Part 13 - Vigiliance
Some readers may ask why, in a biography about me, so many other ponies and gryphons are contributing their side of the story. And the answer is very simple: that my story is not complete without theirs.
That my story would not have happened without theirs; that I would not have become the pony I did without them. Our lives and destinies were deeply intertwined, and to tell my story alone would be to do not just them, but all who fought and died on both sides of the war a grave injustice.
Then-Centurion Layan Kaval is both friend and former foe. He is revered and reviled by ponies and gryphons alike for his actions during the war, but I bear him no ill will. ’Tis certain he was the mightiest and most honorable warrior I ever met, and perchance it was fate that brought us together on the field of battle; that eventually turned the bitterest of foes into the best of friends.
I thank you for your kindness, Captain. You honor me with your words and willingness to pass me your pen. Though ’tis certain that at this point in my story, I was not the honorable tiercel you wouldst one day know me as. For one of the worst things you can ever ask a gryphon warrior to do is retreat.
Second only to surrender without a fight.
—Layan Kaval
Two weeks after the devastating storm struck Raptor Base, the dead had been burned and the wounded evacuated. There were few soldiers left at the once-formidable facility but a bare cohort, whose only task was to remove or destroy anything left of value.
By the Consul’s order, all our forces were being pulled back from the Equestrian frontier, leaving the border unguarded except for magical sensors to detect intrusions. The forward bases had been intended to allow us the ability to launch the initial phase of invasion instantly and with overwhelming force, but had proven far too vulnerable to pony weather control; they could spin up a storm too quickly for us to evacuate them or our forces to take cover in time.
Far worse than the storm, however, was the parley that followed. Word of Celestia’s appearance and power had spread like wildfire through the ranks, to the point that some Auxiliary Guard soldiers were deserting, refusing to fight the ponies.
Even when threatened with death, they did not waver, saying there was no honor in suicide—that they would not risk their homes, farms and families against such overwhelming might, fearful of bringing the wrath of the heavens or Celestia herself down upon them. Fear was contagious, and I’m sure the Sun Princess knew it; I even heard rumblings within the Red Talon ranks themselves that ’twas folly to fight her, and we should simply quit the continent entirely.
I had done what I could to silence such talk with sharp orders, and when necessary, the sharp point of my blade, but the damage to morale was done. Everyone could see we were retreating and knew why. The Consul himself was livid at Celestia’s condescension, and I cannot say I was any less so, wanting desperately to strike back but having no means to do so—at least, none that would not result in far worse being visited on us.
“What will we do, my lord?” I asked, still keen on visiting some retaliation on the ponies who had done this to us. There had to be a way to defeat Celestia, and if any gryphon could find it, ‘twas the brilliant mind before me.
“For now, what we are told,” he bit out as he finished writing his final order, affixing his seal and leaving his desk as neat as possible for the summons he knew was coming. “They will be watching, and they have us at a disadvantage right now.”
“One might say we are being held by the throat,” I muttered in response, painful though the admission was.
Gaius shook his head at that. “They only truly have us by the throat when you can feel them squeeze. No, this is not the end, Centurion. Far from it,” he told me, his mind clearly turning. But before anything more could be said, the flap of the tent we were meeting in was opened, and in strode a group of gryphons.
There were seven of them, all unusually large warriors, split equally between sky and earth gryphons, eaglesses and tiercels. They wore deep green armor with black helms and weapons, still sheathed, though I noticed some appraising and wary eyes on me with their owners’ talons moving towards sword hilts, in case I decided to initiate hostilities.
Their arrival had been expected, but still unwelcome. They were simply known as The Paladins, guardians of the Imperial Order and protectors of the Empress herself. If they were here, it could only be to take the Consul into custody and bring him before the Empress—unless, of course, they had been directed to slay him on the spot and only return his body. Sometimes such orders were given for particularly egregious failures in judgement, such as what the Consul himself had done to the young magus trainee that had succumbed to the temptations of Hildyra’s raider group.
Their presence meant that whatever orders they had came from the Empress herself. Nevertheless, Salvio Gaius was still my superior, and I had sworn an oath to protect him. So I did so here, planting myself in front of him. “State your intentions, Paladins.”
Their leader was a tiercel that dwarfed me in size; his strength and stature artificially enhanced by potions, and he pinned me with a stare. “Stand aside, Talaeus,” he ordered in no uncertain terms, but made no move to pass me, perhaps knowing my reputation. “We are not here for you; we are here for your master.”
“And my master he remains until I hear valid orders to the contrary,” I responded, making clear I would still defend him if needs be.
“As you wish.” He sat in front of me and unfurled a scroll, the other Paladins flanking him three to a side. “Consul Salvio Gaius, I am Exarch Rhitatyn of the Imperial Paladin Order,” he announced, reminding me that the Paladins still used archaic rank structures dating back to feudal times.
“By order of Empress Palamecia, you are hereby relieved of command. You are directed to return to Aresia and stand trial before the Imperial High Council for gross incompetence and dishonoring the name of the Empire. I will supervise the continued withdrawal of our troops from Equis,” he spat out the distasteful phrase, showing me the signed order bearing the seal of the Empress herself. “You will be escorted back to Mosclaw, where you will answer to the Empress for the humiliation you have visited upon her.”
I relaxed, but only fractionally. So they weren’t going to kill him on the spot, at least, though being called before the Empress under such circumstances was normally tantamount to a death sentence. “Then I demand the right to return with him and speak for him.” I stepped forward menacingly.
The Exarch’s eyes narrowed. “You do not make demands here, Talaeus,” he told me as his fellow Paladins drew their weapons. I did not immediately do the same, but instead ignored them completely and kept my gaze fixed on the leader. It could be construed as an insult to their abilities, implying that they were not worth my time.
Which, as far as I was concerned, they were not. The Paladins, for all their size and reputation, were mostly ceremonial in function, never leaving the capital of Mosclaw except in special circumstances like these. As such, their combat experience was practically nonexistent, and after a week of having my fighting blood up with no way to relieve it, I would have been more than happy to demonstrate the difference between them and I.
“Stand down, Centurion,” the Consul spoke for the first time since the Paladins had entered the tent. His voice was suddenly weary, resigned to his fate. “You honor me with your loyalty, but ’tis simply not the time.” He drew himself up and stepped past me to present himself to the leader, baring his throat in signal that he was willingly submitting himself to their custody.
“I will face the Empress as instructed, Exarch. I have left everything in order and laid out for you. You will find the withdrawal timetable already set, and if you like, my personal supply of rum is in the lower-right cabinet of the desk.”
Exarch Rhitatyn sneered. “That you wouldst keep drink in your desk does not speak well to your commitment or discipline, Consul.”
The Consul smiled wanly. “Nevertheless, I’m sure before long in this post, you will find it as necessary as I did,” he replied, and then turned to me. “Your accompaniment on my journey would be appreciated, my friend. But before you join me… I do ask that you obtain some items for the trip.” He passed me a scroll.
It was snatched from his grasp before it reached me. “And what is this? Instructions to enable your escape?” the Exarch asked suspiciously before scanning it. He then looked up at his new prisoner, visibly surprised at what he saw.
“As you can see, it is just some… reading material,” the Consul said with a slightly coy grin. “I simply wish to further my intellectual pursuits on the long journey home.”
Exarch Rhitatyn’s sneer deepened. “So this is how you wouldst spend your final weeks of life? So be it.” He tossed the scroll at me contemptuously, and I was scarcely less surprised than he to see what was on it. “Arrest him,” he ordered, and the remaining Paladins did so, none too gently.
The Consul took it far better than I would, allowing himself to be handled roughly as I could raise nary a talon in his defense.
Still, he never lost his smile, turning his gaze on me before he was removed. “I trust you to do whatever is necessary to obtain me these items, my friend,” he told me as shackles were placed upon his legs and wings. “And whatever happens, I wish you to know it has been an honor to serve with you.”
“The honor is mine,” I said and meant it, baring my throat and saluting him for what I feared would be the final time, ignoring the looks of contempt the Paladins gave me. When he had left, I studied the list again. I did not yet understand why he wanted these things, the obtaining of which ’twould certainly entail some risk. But I was not without resources of my own. There were some favors owed me by the Owls, and perchance ’twas time for them to be repaid.
’Twas hard to believe it had already been a month since the parley. ’Twas harder still to believe all the changes that had happened in the interim, from the large and newly-rebuilt Outpost Epsilon to the improvement in attitude and ability of my soldiers.
Celestia had left several parting gifts, both for me and for Gavian. Seeing his drawing talents, she had dispatched her aides to obtain him some real art equipment from a nearby town, plying him with pens and inks, papers and paints, all of which he was delighted to receive and soon experimenting with. ’Twasn’t long before a corner of my stateroom was turned into a studio, and I willingly ceded the space to him, even standing for him as he sketched me for my first portrait.
’Twas fascinating to watch him suddenly bloom and flourish; the longer he stayed with us the healthier in body and happier in spirit he seemed. His initially dull coat was beginning to all but glow, becoming more vivid, even his previously pale green eyes were becoming more pronounced in their hue. The barely-seen leopard spots he possessed on his gold-furred hindquarters were becoming quite prominent as he began to fill out and get stronger; he was even starting to chance flying our obstacle courses, trying to build up his flying ability and wing strength. For as malnourished as he’d been, he still had a long way to go, and I suspected he was always going to be a bit small for a gryphon. But he was finally coming to see that his size wasn’t a handicap or something to be ashamed of, as coming to Equestria finally let him develop his talents and abilities in ways the Empire would never have allowed.
It also helped that he felt quite safe, though the Princess’s other gift went a long way towards his feeling of security. She had left several of her own personal guard at the base; three Celestial Guardsponies had volunteered to stay and protect Gavian as a very visible sign of her favor and acceptance of him. I’d been very surprised when they’d presented themselves to me at sundown the day of the parley, just before Celestia left to return to Canterlot—Spear Sergeant Steelheart, Master Sergeant Stormrunner and First Sergeant Still Way—an earth pony, pegasus and unicorn stallion, respectively.
I was glad to have them. Unlike some of the more belligerent Guardsponies I’d met, these three were accomplished veterans—they’d have to be in order to wear the gold armor of Celestia’s personal guard—who were loyal to the princess first and had no apparent issues with me, particularly after they tested me themselves and found I was their equal or better. It might have been problematic that two of them outranked me, but Captain Typhoon ended any potential issues quickly by seconding them to the Aerial Corps as I was, meaning they were subject to the Corps chain of command and thus subservient to the base commander regardless of rank. With at least one Celestial Guardspony watching over Gavian along with me and Swift Strike, giving him at least two reliable bodyguards at all times, I started allowing him more freedom of movement inside and even outside the base.
Attitudes towards Gavian were improving as well. We repurposed a Raven vest, and after sending it into a nearby town for repairs and some tailoring to fit him, dyed it the same sky-blue color as Aerial Corps uniforms, and he wore it quite happily, even cutting his headfeathers short like a pony military mane. Most of the grumbling over him was gone, and some Corps soldiers were even starting to treat him as a base mascot of sorts. I wasn’t altogether happy about that—’twas still a form of looking down on him—but ’twas certainly a vast improvement from just a few weeks earlier. At least I wasn’t so much worried about his safety from my own soldiers as before.
Nor did we worry much about the gryphons any longer. The Lances were reporting that they were evacuating their forward bases, and full troop transports were leaving the continent daily. On the other hoof, it did appear that they were reducing their ranks somewhat by simply releasing soldiers from service, meaning they could swell their numbers again quickly if needed… but that could not in itself be considered a breach of Celestia’s terms, and recalled soldiers would not be effective right away. Training, both individual and as a unit, had to be constant, or soldiers would lose their edge.
To little surprise, there’d been no further incursions into Equestrian territory after Celestia’s demonstration of power. The Lances further reported that Consul Gaius had been relieved of command, taken back to the Gryphon homeland to face probable execution for the insult to the Empire’s honor that had happened on his watch.
I would shed him no tears; in the end he’d proven no ‘master strategist’ at all in my view. From what I could glean of his overly-complicated plans, he’d forgotten two cardinal rules of military operations—simplicity and secrecy. He’d been trying to be too clever by half and the end result was that it took just one mistake to unravel his entire strategy; the end result was the complete collapse of his plans and having his head handed to him by someone far more schooled in the military arts than he. Even if he was spared, I doubted he’d ever live down the lecture Celestia had given him or being told to his face by a pony princess that he was a poor general.
After seeing her in action, it gave me great comfort to know that Celestia was no novice in the science of warfare herself and had our backs if need be. ’Tis worth saying that I did not begrudge her for not intervening sooner as some ponies did. She could not be everywhere, and we needed to be able to take care of ourselves without her; not be dependent on her.
In accordance with the Princess’s orders, we were also taking deliveries of storm clouds, stockpiling them in a vault the earth ponies were digging out of the canyon rock around us. The Princess had not been exaggerating—our instructions, which I was happy to receive, were to automatically and overwhelmingly retaliate against any gryphon attack no matter its size or nature, raze their base of operations with a tempest and then follow up with an immediate raid to capture or kill the surviving planners.
’Twould seem sanity had finally prevailed in high command, for ’twas now clear that we were to treat any attack or border incursion as an act of war, and hit back hard in the same manner as we had against Raptor Base. Alone amongst the border outposts, Epsilon did not have a gryphon base opposite it, so our soldiers and cloud supply would serve as a tactical reserve if needed. Of course, with the forward gryphon bases now shut down or greatly reduced, using a storm would be overkill, but I still couldn’t help but hope we’d get the opportunity to make one someday.
Still, ’twas certain to me the Gryphons would not be so easily cowed, and I vowed to redouble my garrison’s training, bringing them up closer to Guardspony levels of ability. “They will come again. And we must be ready.” Captain Sirocco’s warnings from the first memorial service echoed in my mind once more. From the kidnappings and crystal implants to the attempt on Gavian’s life, they had shown themselves to be nothing if not determined and dangerously clever. I had no doubt Gaius or his successor was already searching for ways around Celestia’s threats, ways to neutralize the sun princess herself. In my heart, I knew we would never truly be safe… and neither would Gavian. Thus… I reached a decision which I knew might not be popular with my soldiers again, but one I nonetheless felt was right.
My duties complete one evening in late January, I entered my stateroom carrying a very special item and called Gavian over, Fell Flight at my side. He obeyed instantly as I stood before him, sat back and unsheathed a captured Raven scimitar, studying it. Its hilt was not meant to be held by pony hooves, but I managed, giving it an experimental swing. ’Twas quite sharp and had a nice weight and feel to it; I found it surprisingly well-balanced and even elegant. Properly wielded, ’twas certainly a match for pegasus wingblades, as I myself could now attest. Nodding in satisfaction, I re-sheathed the blade and turned back towards Gavian, who was watching somewhat warily, uncertain of my intentions.
“This sword is now yours, Gavian,” I told him, holding it out for him to take. “If you’re going to start leaving the base, I want you to have the ability to defend yourself. If you are attacked again, whether by pony or by gryphon, use it to defend your life,” I instructed, waiting for Fell Flight’s translation to catch up.
He gave me a shocked look, but finally reached out to take it and the scabbard harness that would strap it to his back, clutching it all to him, staring at me in awe. I didn’t realize it then, but giving a gryphon a weapon in such a manner was considered high honor and a mark of greatest respect.
“Thank… you...” he told me in Equish again, tears in his eyes as he stepped back and gave me a salute—in the pony manner, not the gryphon one. “But…” he said one more Equish word I hadn’t heard from him before before turning to Fell Flight, addressing her in Aeric before going downcast. She blinked, then turned to me.
“He says he has no training in how to use it. The raiders never taught him.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head in disbelief, wondering again how the Empire could be so callous as to let one of their own cubs wander the streets and remain so wretched. “Then we shall teach him,” I promised. “And his lessons begin now…”
The Guardsmare Commander, my first-ever friend, was as good as her word.
The next few weeks passed swiftly for me, a blur of various kinds of schooling as I was attended to by many different teachers—it turned out she hadn’t just been referring to sword training when she said my lessons would begin immediately. I was taught reading and math by the commander herself, and given language lessons by Fell Flight.
I excelled at some and struggled with others, but with my mind as hungry for knowledge as much as my body had previously been for food, I absorbed them almost as well as the sponges I bathed with soaked up the water from the tub, delighting in the unfamiliar yet delicious feel of being clean.
Self-defense training was surprisingly prominent amongst my other studies, however. The stallion named Swift Strike taught me the basics of gryphon sword art out of view of other pegasi, giving me lessons in the commander’s stateroom as Firefly herself or one of the three Guardsponies looked on.
Thankfully, it turned out he spoke Aeric too—’twas hardly a surprise to learn it was required knowledge for being a Black Lance, though he asked me not to spread that fact around. I more or less understood that he was trying to hide his identity, though I’m sure a few passing ponies wondered why there were always sharp sounds of clashing blades as we practiced.
I was very slow and clumsy at first, and the Raven scimitar itself was a bit heavy to my grasp, making it difficult to wield. He was very patient with me, however, as he showed me gryphon fighting forms and gave me basic drills in them, even wielding a second sword beside me in his hooves so I could follow his movements.
His body didn’t work quite the same as a gryphon’s, but it was enough for me to get the idea; what he couldn’t show me by example he could simply explain, like how my little talon should be pressed into the bottom of the hilt, not wrapped around it.
When I asked how he knew all this, he gave me a slightly coy smile and said only that studying sword arts “was something of a hobby” of his, and that “methinks immersion is the best teacher.”
Nonetheless, ’twas very hard for me at first. I felt embarrassed by how small and weak I was, but he just smiled and pointed out how small he was, saying that “methinks size and strength are overrated… no offense, Spear Sergeant Steelheart,” he added to the earth pony Guardspony at the door, who smirked, confirming he spoke Aeric too.
“Judge me by my size, do you?” he later asked me somewhat jovially, and I immediately shook my head. “Then don’t worry about your own. With time and practice, methinks you can be as good as me, Gavian—so fast and quick nopony can touch you,” he promised, showing me some genuine affection by giving my head feathers a ruffle with his hoof.
Though gratified, I didn’t quite believe him—me, the equal of a Black Lance who could take down experienced assassins and block crossbow bolts with his wingblades?—but finally finding myself properly trained and encouraged, I did get steadily better and before long I was practicing with my new sword as much as with my new paints.
When my lessons were over, he trained the commander herself as she came off duty. ’Twas only then I understood how good he really was as he bested her in blade fights repeatedly at first, even without using his full speed. The commander was certainly no slouch in speed or strength, and the action between them was so fast I could barely follow it; sparks flying from their blades as they met. But even she couldn’t keep up with him at first, finding his blades at her throat repeatedly as they sparred.
But whereas a gryphon might have taken a defeat as an insult to personal honor and demand a duel for it, she set the example for me by taking her defeats with a smile and determination to learn from them, committing her mistakes and the advice she received to memory. She got better quickly under his tutelage and within a few weeks was holding her own quite well, even if she still couldn’t seem to best him.
The other ponies at the base were slowly coming around to me, though ’twas my sense I was still being looked down upon. Attitudes towards me generally ranged from indifference to barely concealed hostility, but there were a few who seemed to genuinely like me, cheering me on as I tried to navigate the obstacle courses. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that even for them, it was the kind of affection you wouldst reserve for a favored pet, and ’twould be a lie to say it did not bother me a bit.
Still, ’twas certainly a great improvement over what it had been before. Even when I left the stateroom to walk or fly around, I always had a protector with me, either the commander or Swift Strike or one of the Celestial Guardsponies watching over me. For the latter, ’twas certain I found them very intimidating at first; massive stallions who looked upon me none-too-favorably, though I quickly found that regardless of their personal feelings I could trust them to protect me. Over time, methinks even they started to warm up to me a bit, as the earth pony gave me some language lessons and the unicorn stallion in particular seemed to take an interest in me, even promising to teach me some meditative techniques when I was bit more fluent in Equish.
It seemed ’twouldn’t be long before I was. I was starting to pick up the pony language more readily after two months of being immersed in it, getting at least the bare meaning of most spoken sentences as I was now understanding about every second or third word said to me. I now knew many phrases and could even count in Equish, trained by Fell Flight over meals and on rare occasion when I visited her in the watchtower, coming out to explore the rebuilt base at night.
Mealtimes were slightly problematic in that unlike the ponies, I needed the protein that only meat could provide, but the commander’s second surprised me by sitting down with me one evening to share a fish she’d caught, explaining that her thestral blood made her more amenable to meat-eating than most ponies.
“’Tis a rare treat for me, as my mother would sometimes prepare one,” she noted, going on to explain that she, too, had been an outcast wherever she went, her mixed blood making her a pariah amongst both thestrals and other pony races. She went to share some of her story with me, explaining she had finally found a home in the Aerial Corps after a foalhood full of insults and ostracization.
But even there, acceptance of her mixed-race heritage was quite grudging at first, forcing her to prove herself many times over and drive herself to be the best flyer and fighter she could be. “So methinks I know what it is to stand out, Gavian. Even more so than Commander Firefly,” she told me, her normally severe expression softening for just a moment. “Perchance I misjudged you at first. She told me you were worth saving, and I have come to see she was right. You have done us all a great service, so do not fear to come to me for advice or help when you need it. I would even go hunting with you, if you wish to try it.”
That startled me most of all—a pony that hunted? “But why wouldst you do this for me?” I had to ask her. “You didn’t like me at all before, and it would cause you trouble if other ponies learnt you ate meat. You have worked hard to get where you are. So why wouldst you wish to risk it all for my sake?” I had to ask.
She stared at me for a moment, then suddenly looked down in something akin to disbelief, shaking her head and chuckling to herself in an odd manner. Then she smiled at me and said a phrase I thought I’d never hear from her or anypony else; a phrase I would in fact hear—and speak!—many times in the years to come:
“Is that not what friends do?”
The beginning of March found me settling into my command quite nicely. Even Sirocco and Sundiver were impressed at what they saw when they visited, finding the readiness of my soldiers now well above average, a product of some unusual training protocols I’d instituted.
To begin with, I had ordered my unicorn healers to undergo combat training, taught by First Sergeant Still Way. This caused much protest on their parts, several initially refusing to participate, one even breaking protocol to tell me that “for Celestia’s sake, ma’am, I’m a healer, not a spellslinger!”
My unamused response was blunt: that he’d be a corpse if he couldn’t defend himself, reminding him that gryphon raiders did not respect the medical profession and we’d lost nearly our entire healer team in the earlier raid. When they still resisted, I showed them the gravestone where the names of four dead unicorns, including two stallions, were recorded, asking them if they thought their good intentions would protect them from talons, scimitars and crossbow bolts.
When they insisted somewhat more weakly that after Celestia’s intervention the gryphons would never come again, I asked simply if they would be willing to bet their lives and that of their patients on it, and if they relished the idea of watching the wounded in their care cut down while they stood by helplessly, unable to protect them.
That finally shut them up, and Still Way proved to be an excellent instructor, teaching them the meditative arts they’d need to fully focus their power. Within a few weeks, they had learned to cast shields and other defensive spells, though I didn’t think they’d be much good for offensive magic—’twas in their nature to save lives, not take them, after all. One or two showed some promise with borrowed longbows, at least.
As Still Way taught the unicorns and Swift Strike taught Gavian and myself, I availed myself of the services of Spear Sergeant Steelheart and Master Sergeant Stormrunner to improve the abilities of my rank-and-file. The latter, by chance, had done a stint as a trainer at Fort Spur, and he used that experience here, running morning drills not far removed from what I’d experienced as a trainee.
He couldn’t give my troops the full Guardspony basic training treatment of course—the majority of mares were combat veterans and would not take kindly to being treated as raw recruits—but he made clear that our skill level was no fluke, a product of our intense training as he proved nearly my equal in the air, as befit a member of the Celestial Guard.
Our matches came to be a regular attraction, even occasionally bet on as he was very nearly as good as Windshear. To my great surprise he even bested me a couple times once he’d gotten a feel for my fighting styles, reminding me again that no matter how good you got, there was always room to get better.
But as I’d learned in basic, defeat was but another opportunity to learn, and we both improved our combat skills further for it. Likewise with Swift Strike’s training, which was in some ways even more frustrating. Part of me simply would not accept that this slight stallion could defeat me, but he did so repeatedly, as his speed and reaction times were simply blinding and my strength seemed to count for nothing against him.
A month after beginning lessons with him, I still hadn’t beaten him, though I’d certainly gotten markedly better with my blades under his tutelage and swore I would before all was said and done.
For his part, Spear Sergeant Steelheart ran strength and conditioning drills at my request, having the Aerial Corps soldiers practice flying and fighting in weighted uniforms. For Guardsponies, that was in order to learn how to carry and fight in their armor effectively, but for the Corps soldiers it would simply be to improve their speed and strength above the already-stringent Aerial Corps norms. There was much grumbling at first, but as I made a point to take part in the drills myself wearing full armor, they couldn’t complain too much.
Especially not after they saw their results. Within mere weeks overall fitness scores were dramatically improved under my programme, and a few soldiers in particular like Fell Flight were rapidly approaching Guardspony levels of ability—a fact confirmed when I sparred with her one day and she lasted nearly a full minute against me; I could see the delight in her eyes as she realized she was finally catching up to me. I began training her one-on-one myself and before long she was an excellent sparring partner, one I had no trouble seeing as Guardspony material herself.
For all that, I would still not say that I was popular with my forces outside of those who had fought with me before the holidays, but ’twas certain I was respected. I had learned from Lieutenant Sundiver that the carrot-and-stick approach to leadership worked well, and applied his lessons over the course of those first few months of the year, trying to be firm but fair, rewarding and punishing in equal measures. I kept my promise to grant leave to all new combat veterans on a rotating basis, meeting with each mare and stallion individually before departure to ask them to consider what was worth fighting for whilst they visited their loved ones.
’Twas not always successful, as a half-dozen soldiers did decide to quit or request transfer, unable to cope with what had happened or the difficult training regimes we were imposing. But for many others it worked, as Blindside returned from her weeklong leave a new mare, having visited her mother and an old mentor of hers—a former Aerial Corps Lieutenant who had shared some wisdom with her; a stallion I would come to know quite well myself in due time.
Her combat abilities already excellent and having missed her report writing and organizational skills, I officially named her my adjutant and requested her promotion to Sergeant, which Captain Sirocco granted quite quickly, having noted the difference in my daily reports between when my new friend was here and when she wasn’t. She also took to the new training regime quite well, and before long nopony short of me or Stormrunner—or Fell Flight on a very good day—could touch her.
Still, as successful as my Guardspony-inspired training programs proved, not all my wishes were fulfilled. I was told in late February that despite repeated requests there would be no Equestrian Army contingent stationed at the base as there was at Gamma.
I had asked for a platoon of earth ponies and unicorns to be assigned to Epsilon as a counter for earth gryphons and mages, but was told the Army would not consent to their presence on an Aerial Corps outpost—service rivalries still reigned supreme, I noted with some disgust.
When I asked why Gamma rated them and not other Aerial Corps bases, I was told by Sirocco it was mostly because their presence was needed for parleys, and there was in fact very little coordination or cross-training between the two services.
Even then I couldn’t help but wonder that if it came to war, the gryphons would prove less the enemy than our own outdated traditions born of foalish pride.
Nevertheless, things were going quite well at the outpost as spring approached, and I made ready to depart the base for a trip of my own, leaving Fell Flight in charge. I told a slightly-nervous Gavian to keep to his studies and training in the meantime, giving him a parting hug and promising him he would be safe in my absence.
’Twas not leave that pulled me away, but a personal request to Captain Typhoon to let me visit Fort Spur.
For Wind Whistler would be entering basic training within a week.
The start of spring on the gryphon continent of Aresia was scarcely less harsh than winter.
That much I was reminded of as the ship we rode in docked in the harbor of Catlais, not long after the vernal equinox. The ride in had been quite rough as we’d had to endure the passage of two storm fronts followed by a coastal tempest, but they would not let us fly the last two hundred leagues as we were capable of. The air remained quite chilly as we disembarked; dirty piles of snow remained on the ground in places, pushed out of the way so supplies could be offloaded after blizzards.
Though the Consul was confined to quarters and I was forbidden to visit him once the journey began, I was allowed to at least give him his requested items before embarking, once the Paladins confirmed there was no contraband. To their credit, the Owls had come through for me on short notice, smuggling most of the commander’s wish list out of pony territory and delivering them to me.
I still wasn’t entirely certain what he wanted with them, but I also knew that once he decided he needed to understand something, he would not rest until he’d learned everything there was to know.
He had plenty of time to do so on the monthlong journey across what the ponies called the Antlertic Ocean. I insisted on accompanying him despite being warned I would be allowed no contact with him and accorded no honor.
With my master having fallen into disfavor, my black feathers and red stripes now counted for nothing; my berthing consisted of a pile of straw deep in the ship’s hold, full of fish and other supplies. But I cared not; I was a longtime soldier who had endured far worse deprivations over the course of my fifteen-year career.
Unable to talk to the Consul, I kept to my personal training regimen as best I could, working the rigging, taking long flights from the decks and occasionally sparring with lower-ranked soldiers. For one of my fighting abilities, the blue-uniformed naval guards were absolutely no challenge, and I finally had to resort to five-on-one duels to work up any sort of sweat.
I can at least say that I had the pleasure of putting down one of the Paladins; after hitting the bottle rather hard one evening she claimed to my face that her order were the true Imperial elite, not the Talaeus. I could hardly let such an insult to my group or prowess stand, and thus challenged her to a duel on the spot.
It was held the following morning after her comrades stopped her from accepting immediately due to her inebriation, but it made no difference. In the end she lasted less than fifteen seconds against me, and it would have been but five if I’d been anything approaching serious. As it was, I took her out in a single blow, leaving her face down with her head smashed through a supply crate and buried in the pile of fish within, her sword broken in two by my own.
I was then offered her quarters and seat in the officer’s mess by the ship’s master, who had no more love for the arrogant and overbearing Paladins than I did, but I declined. I did not reach my skill or post by being coddled, after all. I did, however, accept his offer of a rum flask, on the condition that he find a way to smuggle one to the Consul as well.
I finally saw the Consul for the first time in a month as we docked and he was escorted off the ship. He looked a bit gaunt to my eyes—to little surprise, they hadn’t been feeding him much—but he still stood straight and proud; he caught my eye and smiled with something approaching serenity as he was quickly taken to an air carriage to which Auxiliary Guard sky gryphons were already harnessed.
Gratified to see that his formidable fighting spirit was unbroken, I flew alongside as we traveled the remaining two hundred leagues in a matter of hours, landing at the outskirts of the Imperial Capital of Mosclaw…
At the center of which sat an ornate, towering and very well-defended castle; the seat of Imperial Power and home of the Empress herself known only as The Citadel.
No action here (sorry, Linky and Twinkleshine! 
) but a transition chapter and time jump with plenty of scene-setting and some character development. You can see the direction things are moving; the main mystery, of course, is what were the items obtained for Gaius and what was he doing on the way over? You’ll find out next chapter. Let’s just say for now that he was taking some of Celestia’s words to heart. He’s a rare gryphon who can swallow his pride and admit his mistakes, which just makes him all the more dangerous as a foe. Assuming he can convince the Empress to spare him, that is...
Thanks as always to co-writer Leo Archon and my entire prereading crew of AJ_Aficionado, Denim_Blue, SilentWoodFire, Phoenix Wright voice actor TheGoldGrow, and music man James CyberLink.
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but I also knew that once he decided to needed to understand something,
Once he decided "he" needed.
Awesome. The stage is set.
7146832
Dammit. Fixed. And thanks.
We will never forgive the Grand Cucking of 1092! Carpe diem avem vult.
Hell yeah! Final Fantasy 2. Great story, amazing music, nostalgia bomb, and actually a very terrible game to play in 2016. No really, the first 3 Final Fantasies using the Japanese scale were horrible, horrible grinds with badly balanced boss fights and RNG that would ruin the best of intentions. Hell, even Final Fantasy 4 wasn't great, but the addition of the active battle meter, or whatever it was called, did make for some interesting encounters.
Anyway, here's some music:
I imagine them hanging out, eating the best food and just sparring all day when they aren't kissing the leaders' asses. I'm not impressed either.
mlpforums.com/uploads/post_images/img-3553379-1-178216%20-%20animated%20laughing%20laughingmares.jpg%20rainbow_dash%20rarity.gif
It's all my fault.
Nice! We can expect at least a partial crossover of the Still Way fighting technique from Xenophilia to make its way here. That sounds like a lot of fun.
I'd go hunting with you any day Fell Flight.
Alright Bones, calm down!
vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/memorydelta/images/c/cb/Mirror_McCoy.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20141025031613
This kind of nonsense is why Canada isn't a part of the United States right now. Can you imagine if the U.S. had combined arms in 1813 when they pushed into Ontario?
And so despite everything, the border is as porous as ever. Fantastic...
watchingthewheelsdad.files.wordpress.com/2015/09/150810-trump-the-wall.png
Build it!
Ah'm not votin' fer 'im, Twinkle! Ah give 'im credit for being a lovely shade of orange, but that's it!
You know, Linky, you should really try a different color sometime. I don't think blue sits you very well. I know a spell that will turn you green!
Pah! Ahm blue. If I were green I would die!
7146990
I have the feeling that this will spark a new chain of events... And Firefly will be sorely tested by it...
Tracking Beacon activated!
Appreciate all the comments! And good to see you're all caught up...
7146788
Indeed there is. Though it's actually best for the gryphon side here that the ponies discovered it before they could try it, else they'd've had their heads handed to them by Celestia.
7146807
Yes and no. The ponies have three distinct races (more if you count the zebras and thestrals) while the gryphons have just two, plus one rare talent that can apply to either race.
7146865
Feels are what I was going for with a release on Xmas eve.
That remains one of my favorite chapters for it.
7146920
A short but sharp fight. Despite all the action and how long it took to detail in text, it actually only lasted maybe twelve or fifteen seconds.
7146941
And well-deserved!
7147050
But did he provoke her deliberately for some reason?
Food for thought.
7147065
Hardly a spoiler to say that it indeed will. Welcome to the story's readership, sit back and enjoy the ride!
7146917 I find the sheer premise of a Canada/US border to be funny. They have a hard enough time keeping the treeline cut back.
7146917
Somehow, I doubt that'll be a popular rallying cry...
I only ever played 4 through 6. Sad.
That and taking potions to artificially enhance the strength and speed without training. Don't worry, I have something special planned for them. I haven't shown Layan Kaval in action yet, after all...
No matter how many times I warn you not to give me ideas, you still do!
I'll bet you would!
Think it's about time we tell her story...
images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/24600000/Bones-Quotes-leonard-bones-mccoy-24600880-500-480.jpg
That'd be terrible! Then we wouldn't have Tim Horton's, Labatt Blue beer, or Poutine! To say nothing of ketchup-flavored potato chips, vinegar for our fries, caffeine-less Mountain Dews, or Pepsi made with real sugar!!!!
Because our political betters want cheap labor and to import a new electorate. That in a nutshell explains Trump's support.
Good one with the hidden link!!!!
But what if you were green with envy, Linky? 
Nice to see that Gavian is coming out of his shell a bit. I wonder what kind of quirks his fighting will have compared to the normal gryphon given when his instructors are.
All in all a great chapter that isn't diminished in the least for the lack of (open) conflict.
Only the post tasteful pony pinups that side of the border.
7146835 You're welcome.
Personally Gavian should be more than that griffin is. He's doing well.
8847337
Palamecia is indeed a Final Fantasy reference. I’m sure you’ve noticed more than a few in the story, along with a few Pokemon and other references. You can think co-writer Leo Archon for this one. He’s far more familiar with the FF game series then me.
Star Wars reference.
media.giphy.com/media/3ornjZLITGcFQVRbxK/giphy.gif
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Finally, someone spotted it! Be on the lookout for a second Star Wars reference later in the story.
Video links for "Unfriendly Allies", "Developments", ,"Spring Training", and "Friendly Allies" are broken, the site doesn't even exist anymore.
Damn fine chapter. I wonder what the Griffons plan is following their lost of Territory.
Young Griffon shapes to be quite something to be behold.
11134033
As always, you will learn in the coming chapters! But needless to say, they’re not giving up so easily.
I like my version of gryphons where they’re not uniformly all eagle/lion combos. In my view, they can be any combination of hunting cat and bird of prey you can imagine.
10959826
Hey. Sorry to be coming back so late on this.
Thanks for cataloging all these. I know I need to go through the entire story and fix them, but I’ve been procrastinating because I know that’s a a chore and a half to do. But I’ll try to get to it in the next few weeks.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3