Where The Heart Lies

by Broman

Stand Up

It had been an interesting two days for Quicksilver.

He had continued working the same area, tilling the ground and removing heavy stones away so that a foundation could be built. His body ached from the constant moving, and he felt drained from the laborious work. Whenever he tried moving one of the boulders or pulling them with heavy ropes, his body would almost scream to stop from the constant pulling and tugging. His muscles would become paste whenever he finally finished for the day. His sore body, having to adjust to the new work schedule, had come to a new normal when working. The bandages on his body had healed as well, and there were only a few patches left that remained. The small scratches had mended and the few small scars that remained blended into his coat. After the day's work and eating the same meals, he had somewhat adjusted to the new lifestyle for the foreseeable future. Whenever he could, he tried to sleep for the night, hoping to get a small reprieve from the work of the day and constant berating from the gryphons.

However, despite his sleep, he did not get any respite from his awaiting nightmares.

For the past two nights, he had to endure nightmares that woke him up in the middle of the night. The first night, after Sharp Back returned from his hunt, he kept having nightmares surrounding him. The first night, he felt he was running, constantly running, searching for something that he didn’t know about. He was being chased by Sharp Beak and his soldiers, and they were constantly one step ahead of him. No matter how far he ran, no matter how fast he went, they were always on his heels, never letting up their pursuit. When he kept his frantic charge, he looked on ahead, seeing a white light at the end of his field of vision. There, standing in the the light, was his older sister, Silverwing. She kept calling out to him, wondering where he is. He kept yelling, screaming out her name, that he was here. But his voice fell on deaf ears and before he could reach her, he was surrounded and grabbed by the pursuing gryphons.

Though the first dream felt close to a nightmare, his second one felt more real than he could possibly imagine.

During the next night, he dreamed he was back in the city of Prancy. He was among the front lines, holding the deep trenches that stretched for one block to another, recently captured by their forces some time ago. They held the line for so long that it threatened to batter and ruin the garrison, yet they stood firm. Quicksilver would not trade anything to be with his brothers in arms. The very day he sent Hammer and Anvil to scout the perimeter was when the attack fully began. A horn blew long and hard in the midst of the city streets, and the tide of war flowed towards them. He watched as hundreds upon hundreds of gryphons came out of the ruined buildings and streets, attacking them head on into the trenches. It was a large scale assault and one that would not be dealt with easily. The gryphons crashed like water upon rock, crashing into the heavy shields of the Royal Guard and clashing swords with their hated enemy. He fought hard, facing insurmountable odds, fearing that no matter how many gryphons he slew, more and more kept coming. The gryphons kept him on his hooves, swiping with their claws and slashing with their swords and spears, keeping him off guard and making swing wildly with his sword. He felt the claws tear at his armor, he felt the blades cut across his body, he screamed and kept on fighting, trying desperately to push the gryphons back.

But no matter how hard he pushed himself, they just kept coming.

Soon the fight came to an end when he was hit from behind and he watched as Sharp Beak came over to him. He desperately frailed about, trying to escape, but the colonel would not give him any reprieve. The Gryphon pinned him onto the ground, holding him tight like a fish plucked from the stream, and in that moment, he placed his talons upon his left wing and snapped it in two.

That second night, he awoke with sweat pouring down his body, his dream feeling all the more real. When he looked upon Gretchen, fearing he might have awoken her, he found her fast asleep upon the hay pile. His rational thought was that she was a heavy sleeper, but he couldn't tell how bad he was writhing or possibly screaming in his sleep.

Regardless of the work load upon him and the restless nightmares he had, Quicksilver had his upside from these past two days. True to her word, Gretchen had gave him many cultures and customs of the gryphon race, and he learned many new things he never thought existed.

The first thing that Gretchen talked about was the Gryphon society had three tribes, similar to that of Equestria and their people, and this greatly interested him. The first tribe were the nomad gryphons, their feathers distinguished by brown to dull gray feathers. There were a large population of these gryphons, and most were conscripted into the fighting by their marquess and high lords. These soldiers don’t know the meaning of war and don’t know honor, as Gretchen had explained. When it comes to battle, they would use dirty tricks and shameful tactics to get their way. However, despite the conscripts and their way of fighting, the nomad tribe prides itself with their work in the arts and crafts within their empire. These gryphons were the breadbasket of the Gryphon empire; selling commerce and crafting were their specialties. The tribe could make wondrous deals and profitable sales, and sometimes compromise on deals that would seem outrageous to any ponyfolk, but were landmark decisions that both sides would agree on.

The second tribe were the Royal Gryphons, the proud warriors of the gryphon empire and the second largest population for all gryphons, distinguished by their white feathers and distinct colors. Gretchen and her brother Ebon were both of the royal gryphon tribe. From what Gretchen explained, the royal gryphons were more fitting in military roles and the most noble in their society. Honor is highly respected among the the royal gryphons and inner councils, and they also have a voice of reason when it comes to the inner politics. Gretchen elaborated that their own politics are always divisive, yet they are always willing to share opinions in the matter of all gryphons. There are multiple of factions, or clans as Gretchen put it, of the Royal gryphons, and a small number from the first tribe, each vying for a voice in the the Gryphon courts and many having their own agendas when seeking higher power. Gretchen explained that they can be vicious and sometimes deadly when it comes to opposing views, with some would be threatening to kill just get their point across. Quicksilver wondered how they managed to stay together despite these vast differences and views.

The final tribe were called the Arch Gryphons, the smallest of the tribes but the one that is most important. The Arch Gryphons are a tribe that specialize in magic, and are the most religious in the gryphon society. The Arch gryphons clan have a sacred order that many gryphons from all clans would worship. Saint Gregor, as Gretchen told it, was the pinnacle in their faith to the old gods, which Quicksilver didn’t even know they worshiped. The Arch Gryphons keep their faith sacred and were very wise. Some of them were healers and soothsayers, aiding any gryphon or giving advice to the troubled and weary. Others held vast intelligence, but they kept their knowledge to themselves. There were even times they would have a powerful Arch Gryphon known only as the Oracle. The gryphon chosen was the spiritual leader of Saint Gregor that could be lead by either a male or a female at any given time. Whenever the Oracle meditates, he or she receives a vision of current or future events. If he or she believes that there is a threat to their society, then the gryphons would listen and prepare with extreme prejudice. This oracle, from Quicksilver’s standpoint, was similar to a prophet of some sorts to their society. He even wondered what these ‘oracles’ were like and how much influence they had.

Indeed, it had been an interesting two days. He only hoped that this new learning would continue in the coming days.

***

“So you're telling me that you pegasus can manipulate the weather and make the climate suitable to your tastes?” Gretchen asked, a bit bewildered at Quicksilver's explanation.

“Yes. Most pegasus ponies can help push in clouds and allow rain to fall onto the healthy fields, creating the best crops from the farmsteads within the kingdom,” he said back.

This made Gretchen turn her head in deep thought. As she did this, Quicksilver took a look around to see the gryphons continuing about their business. He had recently finished working on the area that needed to be cleared for a new building. The dirt has been loosed, and it was ready for its foundation. He did, however, have some extra help this time. The therestals, which numbered around fifty, worked alongside him and made much headway in getting the dirt removed. During that time, he tried to start a conversation with the bat ponies, trying to see what had become of them. However, despite his efforts in coaxing them to speak, they were very timid around him, and some would look the other way as if ashamed. He even tried to speak to some of the children, which numbered at least five amongst the group, three colts and two fillies. But even when trying to speak to them, they were ushered away by the gryphons or were called by their parents. He even began to wonder if they could even speak the same language. He hoped in time that they would warm up to him, but for now, he guessed it was for the best to let them have their space.

After what seemed like minutes, which lasted only a few seconds, Gretchen stirred with a small smirk.

“That is a rare thing, to have control of nature like that. Although it’s quite fundamentally different for our people, fletching.”

“How so?” Quicksilver asked.

“For my kind, we sometimes pray for better weather. And when there is bad weather, we pray for the good. Manipulating the clouds and the skies around you feels almost too supernatural, like changing the way Mother Nature has presented it to us.

“In other words, many gryphons believe it’s an abomination against Father Sky, something I’m sure you're all too familiar with,” she explained. Quicksilver raised a hoof to his chin, now on the receiving end of the discussion. Between their talks and exchanges, he recalled their interesting facts, beliefs and sayings. Her culture was so vastly different from his that he could not comprehend how they did it all. But there were a few things that was interesting to him. Those small similarities that they had was between the love of the sky and air.

“Well, that would explain why some gryphons take ill will towards me or the other pegasi. However, that is something that we’ve been born with. It’s just second nature that we have this ability. Just as the unicorns have their magic and the earth ponies have their strength, we have our flight and move the weather. It all works for us, and we make it harmonious so that it works for all. If that makes sense to you, that is.”

Gretchen looked to the side, her mind contemplating on what she learned. As she stayed like that, Quicksilver thought for a moment himself then added, “What really surprises me is that your people have survived without surveying the weather. You explained to me about the arch gryphons and their magic, but you say they don’t interfere or control the climate or help with the seasons. You're risking your lives almost on a daily basis.”

“You forget, fletching, that we gryphons are tough, and we handle most everything when the weather comes,” she replied quickly, the confidence in her voice rising. “We mark down the seasons, whether they be good or bad. The records we make help us forecast what the next day or week will be like. Mainly, we have these safeguards to help us for an upcoming storm, or to ready our crops for a better harvest. We take pride in these accomplishments, fletching. It’s just our way of things.”

Quicksilver nodded, almost echoing the sentiment shared between them. It was true that they did have their differences, from just between the two of them, they could at least agree to disagree on certain subjects.

“Lunch is ready!” the head gryphon shouted out over the encampment, and already dozens of gryphons were moving toward the mess tent.

“I guess we’ll talk more later, fletching. Right now, I’m ready to eat a boar,” she said as she lifted herself off the ground and stretched her wings. Quicksilver followed suit, his aching muscles from the work groaning from the slight exertion. He felt an audible pop where his neck meets his back, and he breathed happily that he had blood flowing in him again as he turned to follow the hen.

As he moved, his body felt cold from the air around him, but his body has somewhat adjusted to it. The work for the past few days and the intense labor helped keep his body warmed up, but mostly exhausted afterward. Not a day went by where he felt that the cold wasn’t continually climbing, threatening to freeze the entire cave into a bitter and frozen tundra.

As he followed Gretchen towards the center of camp, he allowed his thoughts to wander. The winter had hit hard and early in the mountains, and a blanket of snow covered them (as he overheard from the gryphons). He heard that it was quite bad for flying, and the blizzard-like conditions made it difficult to see your own front hoofs. He could only imagine being thrown around in the gale winds and likely being smashed against the mountain side.

Quicksilver soon found himself in the center of camp, already with a line of gryphons, both regular and royal, all intermixed and waiting to receive their meals. As if on cue, Quicksilver took his seat next to the roaring fire while Gretchen went ahead. He watched her move to the head of the line as several gryphons parted for her, allowing access to the chef. He noticed some smiling at her and looks of appreciation among the royal gryphons. However, he also saw some of the nomad gryphons having disgruntled looks and seeming to be displeased. Whatever it was, the two groups did not share any fondness for the other. Gretchen was already speaking to the head chef.

Guess being a sister to the captain has it’s perks, he thought to himself as Gretchen was already getting the food she needed. He then thought for a moment, then mentally slapped his head at the thought.

You fool. Your sister is a co-captain in the royal guard. You should have known that, he berated himself as he tried to think of something else. When his mind kept on wandering, he looked up to see the hole in the roof of the cave. It was snowing lightly, slowly descending downward towards the ground around them. He felt the small flakes touch his muzzle, and he welcomed their soft touch.

He closed his eyes for a moment and his imagination took hold. He imagined going upward and out of the hole, his wings opening up to ascend out of the mountains. He felt himself fly over the land, gliding across the frozen, unknown landscape. He felt he could go on forever, flying lazily across the skies like it was his own.

“Here’s your food,” Gretchen said as she gave his food to him. Quicksilver looked down and saw the same meal as the previous days. It was better than nothing, at least. “It’s not much, fletching, but I hope you don’t mind. We’ve been on low supplies of late,” she said as she began eating her food.

“It’s fine,” he said, returning to his meal. As the two ate in silence, a small thought began to crawl into the back of his mind. He soon turned to Gretchen.

“Gretchen, you taught me a few things about the differences between your tribes, but why is there bitterness between the Nomad tribe and the Royal tribe?” His question lingered as the hen continued to eat. She chewed her meat at a slow pace, likely pondering his words or savoring the taste of the meal before her. He was unsure what was on her mind, but he might have struck a bad note with her. For a moment more, she said nothing until she swallowed the morsel of food.

“You know of our past king, fletching?” she asked, her gaze focused on the fire before her. Quicksilver nodded, allowing for her to continue, “Well, he was a nomad gryphon, not a Royal gryphon like you ponies assumed. His son, Bronzeclaw, since taking the throne, has done poorly after his father and has done little to help improve our lives.

“Since his father’s death, he has tried many times to take the fight against Equestria and her allies. However, he has made shady deals over the years, including gaining a failed alliance with the Diamond Dogs, and his persistence in destroying your civilization, until your culture was utterly erased. What he didn’t account for was your resilience, and your will to survive. Although,” she paused, waiting for a pair of nomad gryphons to pass, “he doesn't realize how far we have lost this war.”

Quicksilver took in every word she spoke. What interested him most was the history of their past and current kings, and how they may have influence over their empire. He paid absolute attention as Gretchen continued her lecture.

“Over the years since the Contact War began, he has been struggling from within the empire. He blames his advisors for his father's deaths, and has either thrown them out of office or had them executed without a trail. It upset many among the other factions, but that was common when you had failed advisors. But what he did next made them even more furious. He appointed many nomad gryphons onto his counsels and advisors, almost having little more than a talon full from either Royal and Arch Gryphons. I even believe that he had selected many of his generals to lead most of the grand armies. This is what caused the tensions to rise, and over the years it has further strained the relationships between the tribes.” Gretchen paused another moment, taking another bite into her meat.

As she ate, Quicksilver remained silent, his mind contemplating her words. He had never expected such deep division with the tribes, yet it seemed there was much more hatred, all because of one gryphon. The one reason that seemed to elude him was to why. Why would the current king of the gryphons have such a vendetta to continue on like this? What does he have to prove or to gain in doing such things? As the questions remained in his mind, he heard Gretchen grunt softly and he turned to see her smirking at him.

“You're wondering why I’m telling you all this, fletching. It’s quite simple: Every gryphon here knows how bad things are, and right now, each side holds the other in contempt.” She cast her gaze to the side and Quicksilver followed. He saw a pair of nomad gryphon staring out the Royals, looking at them with suspicion and superstition.Whenever the royal gryphons turned their way, they would quickly turn their gaze, and Quicksilver could clearly see the royal gryphons give leers to the lesser tribe.

“As you can see, each side holds such disdain for the other that nothing would get done. King Bronzeclaw has done nothing to ease this, only inflaming racial tensions amongst the clans, and there is only thing that is to blame for this.”

“And… what is that?” he asked, unsure what this conversations was leading to. Gretchen leaned forward, whispering into his ear and learning the long awaited answer.

“It’s pride,” she said, making Quicksilver turn to her in confusion. Seeing this allowed the hen to continue. “Pride is imbedded deep within my society. If there is a gryphon who wants something so badly, then they will get it however they can, even kill for it. When pride takes over the hearts and minds of any gryphon, then it completely changes them, makes them irrational, sometimes dangerous, and it's difficult to convince one to abandon their goals. When that whole nation is consumed by its pride, when they become so focused on success over all others, then they have created their own downfall. We can be a great nation, with gryphons who stand tall for their beliefs and values, but it is pride that will ultimately take over us. For the only thing we have to fear is pride.”

Quicksilver was utterly speechless, tranquility separating them and the small noise around him. National pride, in some cases, could be a good thing, creating a sense of identity and lift people's spirits. It’s seems to him that pride in the gryphons runs so deeply that it could be the same as greed. Something that can be acted so drastically that it can make them this dangerous.

“C’mon, fletching,” Gretchen said, finishing the rest of her meal in a few quick bites. “I got to take of a few errands, and you're going to have to be by my side. Now finish up and come along.”

As instructed, he finished the rest of his meal and followed the hen. As he walked by her side, his mind was still plagued by her words. If they were having this internal struggle, then what was keeping the gryphons from going at each other’s throats? What could make them have this change? How and why does pride affect them so deeply? The questions remained unanswered as he continued to follow Gretchen.

For a while, the two remained silent, passing by several tents and many other gryphons going about their business. Quicksilver kept his eyes open, seeing the various Nomad and Royal gryphons doing their daily tasks. However, most of them kept to themselves, never intermingling with one another. He looked at this, but he couldn’t imagine his own soldiers. Each tribe from the earth, unicorn, and pegasus tribes, were always enjoying each others company, and everypony had something to say. Walking among the gryphons and seeing them have this… this lack of unity, this disharmony. It unsettled him to no end.

As he followed Gretchen, he soon found himself in a different part of the camp. He could see multiple tents placed in a semi-circle, the center of it where a small fire pit was placed. When he drew closer, he saw the thestrals mingling about the tents. The small families gathered together around the fire while several others gave blank stares; they looked defeated and distraught.

Many of them hardly paid any attention to their approach, but when they did, they bared their fangs at him and the hen. Quicksilver looked over to Gretchen and she remained where she was, and it was here that he noticed something different in her eyes. There was no ill will or contempt inside them.

They were ones of pity.

Throughout the war, he always saw the gryphons having deep hated, leering, or deceitful eyes, and only a few times when they looked defeated. However, when he looked at Gretchen now, she had eyes that pitied these therestals. He never once thought he would see a gryphon with such an emotion, but she was the first to show him pity. He then thought about his wounded wing, and he wondered if she had any pity for him.

As he thought about this, he heard a loud flapping of wings approaching from behind. He turned and saw that it was his silent guard, bearing his same neutral expression.

“Ah good, you're here. Do you have the blankets?” Gretchen asked, not surprised that he was here. The silent gryphon made a noise that sounded like a grunt and he took off several large blankets off of his back. Gretchen walked over and grabbed the fabric, thanking him in the process. He soon left without a word, and Quicksilver followed the hen as she went to the thestrals.

Quicksilver walked alongside Gretchen as she began to give out the blankets to the thestrals around them. He watched in silence as the hen gave one large blanket to each of the families, and each one had either a small smile or gave much gratitude. He didn’t know why they were so receptive to her or to the other royal gryphons, but they didn’t show any resentment. After several minutes passed and the final blankets given out, Gretchen took a few steps back and turned her head toward camp. Quicksilver followed her gaze and noticed a several royal gryphons coming towards them. Some carried an assortment of meats, while at least two carried a large barrel. They each went among the thestrals, distributing the food to each of the families, and they all took it eagerly.

“Well, that’s new,” he said as he watched one of the colts happily munch on one of the pieces of meat. He felt his stomach turn inside out as the young one swallowed the piece and began asking for more in their own language.

“Well, thestrals have been known to be carnivorous and herbivorous. Since winter is settling in early, they resort to meat to sustain themselves. It’s the best we can provide for them,” Gretchen explained as she watched her fellow gryphons passing out the last of the food. The more he watched, the more he began to wonder if there was anything green to eat. His stomach churned, and he wondered what was in the soup he had been eating. He turned away, almost feeling nauseous.

“Oi oi, who’s giving out the food to these rats!” a bellowing voice broke out, making Quicksilver turn to the newcomer. He saw a large nomad gryphon, with a deep brown body and light brown head, marching his way towards the thestrals.

“What does that fat pluck want now?” Gretchen cursed softly at his side, and he could only look on as the fat gryphon came closer. He looked menacing due to his size, but it could also be that because of the extra girth around his waist. The griffon looked around the pack of thestrals, each of them slowly trying eat whatever food they could get, but he instantly swiped a piece of meat away from one of the of the younger thestrals.

“This food was meant for us! They don’t deserve any of this! Nothing but the bones of our kills!”

“We’re under orders by Ebon to feed the prisoners,” one of the royal gryphons said. Quicksilver recognized it as Talon Wing. “You can’t just take away their food, Black Talon. We must treat our prisoners with respect, not drive them into the ground!” His words drew signs of approval by the other royal gryphons, but Black Talon huffed out his chest.

“So we let these rats eat our rations and make us starve out faster? I will not allow it!” he yelled as he pointed at the thestrals.

Quicksilver looked at the gryphon, and recognized his voice. It was his captor from before. He was the one forcing him to march, beating him into submission and the one who had the idea to drop him in the air. He felt his hoof clench in the ground and narrowed his eyes in complete disgust. This gryphon was more of a bully to him and that he could handle, but having the gall to beat upon a child was even more reprehensible.

“So you would stuff your beak full until your fat and happy, which you already are,” another Royal Gryphon, Sky Rider, joined in, drawing a few laughs from his friends. Black Talon seethed in anger and he flared his wings.

“I will not be picked upon by you arrogant gryphons! These thestrals deserve no respect from me… now give me back my food!” Black Talon went to try and seize the food for himself, while the royal gryphons held him back. Both Talon Wing and Sky Rider kept pushing the large gryphon, but the larger gryphons weight was too much and they were shoved back with ease. Several other gryphons rushed him, pushing him back and flaring their wings, feathers flying all over as they pushed their weight into one another. Quicksilver noticed that they were preventing him from getting to the thestrals, and it seems they were not using their full strength. Before he could watch any further, he heard the hen on his side.

“C’mon, fletching, we don’t have to be here to see this,” Gretchen said, turning her head and beginning to move away. Quicksilver went to follow, but heard a loud shriek from one of the thestrals. He whirled his head and his eyes widened as Black Talon held a helpless colt in his claws. The royal gryphons that came his way were shoved into the ground like they were nothing. The colt was holding onto a piece of meat, trying eat it as quickly as possible, but Black Talon held his own talons onto the end, trying to rip it out of the colt.

“Give it back you runt...or I will eat your gizzard for dessert!” Black Talon yelled, continuing to tug the piece of meat away from the colt. The colt cried out as both of his parents begged in their tongue to let him go. The colt then drew his fangs and sunk them deep into his claws. He squawked in surprise, and Black Talon drew his other claw, ready to strike.

It was in that moment something snapped inside Quicksilver, and he began charging towards the gryphon, causing Gretchen to stare in surprise.

“Fletching, what are you doing?!” she called out as he kept on running, his hooves pounding upon the stone floor as he went straight for the corpulent gryphon. He quickly closed the distance and leapt up, his body turning slightly until his shoulder made contact. The gryphon had no warning as he was hit, his body twisting from the impact. As he turned, the small thestral was thrown into the air, crying out as it went. Black Talon hit the ground hard as Quicksilver quickly altered his position and catched the thestrals onto his back. He stared at the little colt’s slitted eyes, noticing that he was quite surprised. He could only give a reassuring smile. The young colt blinked a few times before jumping off and running towards his parents, who swept him up in their open hooves. The area was silent and every gryphon stared at Quicksilver in shock. Quicksilver readied himself to be tackled, ready to be taken down, yet they did not react, nor made a move towards him.

“Who did that?…Who struck me?!” Black Talon yelled as he scrambled back up onto his front claws. He shook his head once, a few feathers falling out as a result, then turning toward the only pony in front of him. His eyes narrowed and anger flashed across his composure, and for a split second, Quicksilver thought he saw teeth behind the gryphon's beak.

“You’ll pay for that, you whelp!” he screamed, lunging directly towards him. Quicksilver gritted his teeth and braced for impact.

But before he could strike back, a powerful gust of wind appeared right in front of them and another gryphon blocked Black Talon’s path. The stout gryphon stopped in his tracks as the royal gryphon flared his wings at him. Quicksilver noticed the scar running down the side of its beak, indicating that the royal gryphon was Deadeye. He held a claw onto his sword, pulling several inches out from its sheath, ready to strike. As this happened, more and more clamour erupted, and more gryphons from the nomad and Royal gryphons began to surround the group, taking their sides behind teach tribe. Quicksilver could see the deep hate they all had, and some were even brandishing their own weapons.

It was then he realized he may have stirred something more than he had intended.

“What is going on here?!” the voice of Ebon rang out as he flew towards them, landing next to Deadeye and ready to draw his own blade. Black Talon gritted his teeth and he pointed a talon directly at Quiksilver.

“This equine attacked me for no reason. I want to take his head as compensation for what he did to me.”

“Liar! You were trying to stuff your face by taking the thestrals food away!” Talon Wing yelled back, drawing much discretion from the nomad side.

“He attacked a child all for his want of food. He would be fine if he weren’t stuffing his beak every single day,” Sky Rider added. Black Talon seethed at him.

“Being heavy means I’m well endowed and that I am a healthy individual, unlike you gryphons! I will no longer tolerate your lot until I have retribution against this incompetent equine!” He flared his wings, many of his comrades squawking out in response.

“What is the meaning of this?! Ebon, why are your gryphons speaking out of line? This is most unbecoming of you.” Another voice entered, and Quicksilver turned to see the one gryphon he didn’t want to see. He watched as Ebon turned and he narrowed his eyes.

“Colonel Sharp Beak… your gryphons are out of control! That’s the problem here!”Ebon said, his words hostile. Sharp Beak only laughed as he stood next to Black Talon.

“It appears that it’s your gryphons that are the ones acting out of place. Besides, it’s your people that don’t know the order of things. They are giving precious resources to the enemy, supplies that we need for the war. Your gryphons are untamed and unpredictable. If I were you, I would court martial and hang the lot of them for giving out our food to these weakless and pitiful equines.” Sharp Beak said, drawing the ire of Ebon and the rest of the royal gryphons to glare back at them.

“What I do with my soldiers is none of your concern. This is my outpost, my command. Tread lightly; you don’t want to cross paths with me,” Ebon said back, as Quicksilver heard the distinct sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath. Another chuckle escaped the colonel and he shook his head at Ebon.

“Bold words. I look forward to ramming them down you throat.” Sharp Beak said back, causing some of the nomad gryphons to ready their weapons, ready to bear down upon them. “Also,” he added, “this outpost would deserve a better leader and learn proper discipline. Something that you have neglected to act.”

Quicksilver could only watch on as the gryphons sized each other up. He then recalled Gretchen’s words and he soon understood her meaning. The gryphons had their honor and pride at stake, and neither side wished to give in.

“Another thing,” Sharp Beak added, “Since I rank higher than you, I would believe I’m in the right that these beasts should be taught a lesson. Punishment for going against us.”

“You are a bloody fool,” Ebon exclaimed.“They may be our enemy, but we do not treat them like filth. You can shout and preen all you like, but all you have is just for show. You can do as your king wills it. But even he knows that punishing young colts and fillies was not something that we tolerate,” Ebon said with conviction, drawing much praise by his soldiers. Quicksilver could see Sharp Beak‘s eyes narrow, anger seeming to pour out of them as he stared at Ebon.

“Then we are at an impasse, my friend,” Sharp Beak retorted. “Either you let me have my way, or each and every gryphon loyal to you will pay the price for disobedience and tried for treason,” he stated, causing many of the nomad gryphons to shout out in agreement. Soon Ebon drew his blade, brandishing his weapon directly at Sharp Beak.

“Over my dead corpse, Sharp Beak!” he hollered, and many of the royal gryphons did the same. Readying their weapons for battle, the gryphons on both sides stood their ground. The two groups readied to fight, to kill, even to die. It was happening so fast that Quicksilver could not keep up. He dared a look to Gretchen, who could only stare out in shock at what was happening.

“Give us one of them to punish, even that colt there, or there will be bloodshed! Otherwise we will fight and paint this whole cave with our blood!” Sharp Beak exclaimed, trying to stare down at his bigger counterpart. Ebon stood his ground, puffing out his chest and appearing larger than him. Feeling the need to say something, Quicksilver cleared his throat and yelled for all to hear.

“If you want somepony to get punishment, punish me!” He called out, making each gryphon turn to him each one showing an astounded expression. Ebon and Deadeye took a step to the side, allowing Sharp Back to see the perpetrator. “I was the one who hit him. Punish me, not the child.”

Every Gryphon in the vicinity remained silent, staring at the pegasus that rose his voice above the clamor. Some stood there as if in a daze, while others held confused expressions. He didn’t care for what they had to say, but he knew that he would get punished. However, he also knew that the thestrals would not be harmed, and that was enough.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, a small laughter escaped from the colonel.

“Perfect. I’ve been meaning to see a proper punishment for the likes of you.” He lowered his claw and the rest of his gryphons began to sheath or lower their weapons. Ebon and many of his Royal gryphons lowered their weapons, yet did not yield their stance. Quicksilver took a step forward, as two approaching gryphons came at his side and brought him closer to Sharp Beak.

“I guess the proper way to deal with this instigator is to have the ones he supports be the ones to punish him.” His eyes turned toward the thestrals, and they all stared back with uncertainty in their eyes. “Each stallion and mare will punch him in the muzzle. Only fair, so that we don’t have to beat him. Otherwise...” He gave a sinister grin. “...he would be unconscious by the first few hits we made,” Sharp Beak said, then awaited the answer.

Quicksilver turned, eyeing Ebon, who was in deep thought. It appeared more likely his actions may have caused the two sides to cease their hostile threats, but he also knew for a certainty that Ebon would most likely have to compensate for Sharp Beak if he intends to keep his word. After a few moments a silence, Ebon responded.

“Do what you must,” he said, sheathing his blade. The rest of the royal gryphons did the same, all except for Deadeye, who kept his blade part way from the sheath, ready to bringing it out at a moment's notice.

It wasn't long until the nomad gryphons gathered all of the thestrals together, forming a single line in front of Quicksilver. He stood there, two nomad gryphons at his side, as he awaited for the first of many blows. Sharp Beak moved forward until he stood next to Quicksilver, his eyes never wavering as he stared at the equine before him.

“You had the gall to strike one of my gryphons,” Sharp Beak began. “And that is the real problem with you ponies: You're too plucking proud.” He snapped a claw outward, forcing the first thestral to move forward. “What's worse, little pony, is that it was bad enough that you were above us. Now...” He stared Quicksilver directly in the eye. “Now, you don’t even see how far you’ve fallen,” he seethed, and Quicksilver looked him in the eye. He saw that look before, the look of a mad gryphon.

“Still high enough to look down at you,” Quicksilver replied without thinking. Sharp Beak snarled at him, then he snapped a claw directly at the first thestral.

“You. Hit him,” he said, cold yet menacing. The nervous thestral nodded slightly and slowly went up to Quicksilver. As he approached, he was able to get a good description of the stallion. He had a deep blue coat and litted red eyes, his wings were thin and leathery. Quicksilver thought for a moment they were see through, but he wasn’t sure. The thestral said nothing, looking as if he was about to do something that he was going to regret. He lifted his right hoof and Quicksilver saw something he thought he would never see.

The thestral was crying.

The moment he saw it, the punch came soon after, striking him directly across his cheek. Quicksilver’s head whipped to the side from the blow; the thestrals were much stronger then they looked. Soon after his head came up, the thestral was forced to move to the side, allowing the next one to take his place, this time a female with a light gray coat and gold eyes. As she lifted up her hoof to strike, he noticed a bit of hesitation from her. Her hoof was shaking and she felt she didn’t want to hit at all. She shook her head and looked away not wanting to hit him.

“You should do it quick. The faster you get this over with, the better,” Quicksilver said, trying to reassure her, not knowing if she could understand him. One of her tufted ears spinned in his direction and she was looking at him from concern. Then, not a moment later, she drew a clenched hoof and brought across his right cheek. The second hit was not as bad as the first, but it still stung. He could only hope the rest would be quick.

He felt he was back in training all over again.

One by one, each thestral came forward, each one bringing a hoof across his face and muzzle. Blood began to pour out of the corner of his mouth, and his face was becoming more bruised with each hit. Each thestral that struck him, he could see the pity in their eyes and their apologetic gazes upon him. He knew that they didn’t want this, but they had no other choice. As this happened, the royal gryphons remained standing, watching the punishment take place. Ebon could only watch as the beatings continued. The gryphons at his side stood silent, watching the the prisoner, their enemy, take every blow, every strike, being beaten for standing up against them.

Several minutes passed and the final thestral laid the last blow, then joined the others. Quicksilver was sitting on his haunches, being held up by two of the nomad gryphons. Forty five direct hits, forty five painful strikes, yet he was able to endure them all. He felt blood going down his lips and forming a small puddle on the ground. Small blood droplets splattered upon the snow on either side of him, created when his head whipped to one side or the other. He breathed heavily, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Very impressive, equine,” Sharp Beak said, standing before him. “You managed to hold your own. However, you will suffer the final ones from my right claw,.” he said. Black Talon then moved forward, cracking the bones in his claws with loud audible cracks. He placed himself in front of him, as he heard much protest from the royal gryphons.

“Do you have no honor?! He’s been given his due!” he heard Ebon call out as Black Talon pulled his claw back. Without a reply, he brought his clenched claw upon him. The force was unlike any other he has faced. He felt as if his bone in his cheeks been ripped apart, then rapidly and painfully came together again. Blood sprayed upon the snow once more, and his head was reeling from the force. He felt his head lift up by his talons and felt a left hook across his other cheek. One after another, Black Talon had his way, striking painful blow after blow against his head, on some occasion ripping a few short strands of his mane in the process. After a minute of continuous blows, Sharp Beak raised a claw, stopping Black Talon from continuing his rampage, his talons wrapped tightly around Quicksilver’s throat, holding him in place with his other claw ready to continue on. Quicksilver kept staring up, still trying to stay conscious, yet he was struggling to maintain himself. He soon felt the talons leave his throat and the two gryphons that held him up moved to the side, allowing Sharp Beak stand before him.

“This is what you all will learn when you disobey,” Sharp Beak said, looking upon the thestrals who remained still and shaken. “You ponies need to know when you're beaten,” Sharp Beak said. He then quickly turned to Quicksilver and punched him directly in the cheek, sending him back several feet from where he sat. He laid still on the ground, coughing up blood from the ferocious blow. His eyes blurred somewhat and he was able to refocus, only to stare at Sharp Beak standing over him.

“You ponies need to be taught some plucking humility, or this will not be the last lesson I teach you,” he said, raising his wings to appear all the larger and all the more arrogantly proud. The nomad gryphons all cheered and relished in his words, taking his words in like honey. The royal gryphons remained silent, only watching the sight of a pegasus being beaten. Quicksilver opened his eyes somewhat and he tried to lift his head up, settling himself so that he could try and stand. He breathed heavily, continuing to cough blood and tried to get his bearings. Sharp Beak noticed this and he lowered himself until he was staring eye to eye with Quicksilver.

“I bet this makes you angry, doesn't it? Makes you want to stand up and hit me?” he asked, mocking him. Quicksilver said nothing but continued to stare at the gryphon, who only chuckled and belittled him so. “You and I both know how that’s going to end.” He then stood back at his full height, staring down at him like predator over prey. “Now, are you going to be a good little pony, learn your lesson, and stay down?” He asked, waiting for his response. Quicksilver said nothing, only lowering his head as if he didn’t hear the gryphon speak. He looked to his right, seeing the thestrals staring back at him. They all had a deep sadness in his eyes, and they all were afraid.

That fear, it was the same as he saw in many ponies has seen before. From his first battle, his first kill and to the city of Prancy itself...he could see the same eyes within them. They were scared, helpless, and they had no pony else to turn to. Turning back to Sharp Beak, he saw the gryphon began to walk away, believing he had his victory over him. Gritting his teeth, Quicksilver forced himself up. His body protested, his muscles from the work day still screaming to keep him down, yet he pushed on, hoping to prove to that gryphon that he would not be silent. As he shakily got to his hoofs, he heard a few audible gasps from the thestrals as he stood tall once more, beaten but still standing. Sharp Beak turned, eyeing him as if it was challenge.

“You’re a bloody snot,” he said, taking a step forward and punching Quicksilver in the face with his right claw. Blood came out his mouth as he was hit, slamming hard onto the snow and his mind reeling from the force. He shook his head, his vision obscured as he tried to refocus. He looked back up, seeing Sharp Beak poised to strike again, then feeling a direct kick into his gut. He coughed as he held his ribcage, struggling to maintain himself. Several gryphons began laughing at his expense as he tried to get up. He looked to the side to see several of the gryphons mocking him, pointing at him, trivializing the pony that he was. He did notice, however, a few young bloods who were silent at this, and they turned their heads away as if ashamed.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sharp Beak said, lowering himself once more to his level. “Those gryphons I had dealt back Prancy didn’t know there place either. I made sure they were taught good, even at their own expense.” He lifted himself back up, backing away from Quicksilver, but still standing over him. He turned his gaze to the thestrals nearby, and small grin appeared on his face.

“These bat pony freaks will meet the same end,” he said slowly and intimidatingly, causing a few audible gasps from the thestrals.

“Unless, you're a good little pony, learn you place, and stay down,” he quickly added. He turned his gaze back at Quicksilver, staring down from on high like some high and mighty king.

Quicksilver could see how mad this gryphon was. His pride was pushing him to make him an example among the others. If he didn’t get up, then he would win and stand out as the better gryphon. Taking another shaky breath, Quicksilver began to lift himself once more, surprising the sadist colonel.

“Don’t… you...dare...” he said between clenched teeth, watching Quicksilver struggle as he lifted himself up, shocking and astonishing the gryphons as he moved back to his hooves. “Stay in the mud… like a filthy timberwolf dog,” he said, his words becoming more threatening, yet somehow not packing the same punch as before. Quicksilver kept moving, despite the protests from his body. With shaking legs, he was he able to stand once again, defying all odds against him. He stared him right in the eye, his gaze never wavering and his determination never leaving him. Sharp Beak noticed this and his eyes widened slightly to this realization. He took a step forward, ready to face him once more.

“You equine fool,” he said, lifting his claws and placing them on either side of Quicksilver’s head. Then, in one swift motion, he brought Quicksilver’s head down and smashed his muzzle onto his knee. Quicksilver stumbled, falling onto his back, his nose bleeding with fresh blood. He began coughing once more, his body feeling limp and his muscles drained of energy. His mind was in a daze and Sharp Beak was not going to give him a chance. The gryphon stood over, his eyes flaring, and revealing his teeth. Anger seemed to come out every pour of the gryphons body, and he was going to release it all on him.

“M… my lord. I think he’s…” a voice broke out among the ranks of the gryphons, causing Sharp Beak to lash out in anger.

“What!?” he said, staring at the voice of the one who broke his silence. Quicksilver looked slightly and out of the corner of his vision, he could see a young blood. He could see it in his eyes. The younger gryphon looked appalled at the sight. It was something that Quicksilver knew all too well. When a youth sees fighting for the first time, they wouldn’t know whether to fight alongside or stay in the back and hide. Sharp Beak seethed at the younger gryphon, then turned his attention back on Quicksilver.

“Bloody cripple. I’ll show you true pain,” he said, his words slow. Lifting his large hind paw, he stomped right onto Quicksilver’s left wing. Pain coursed from his wounded wing, as if several large needles went straight into his wing, sending painful currents throughout his body. He grunted and nearly cried out, stopping himself by clamping his lower lip shut. He bit so hard that he tasted more blood in his mouth. He withered in the ground, feeling the pressure being added as Sharp Beak would not let up his torture

“Sharp Beak, stop it! Have you gone deranged?!” Quicksilver heard Gretchen call out. “If you persist, the fletching will lose it,” she called out. A swift wing went out and stopped her.

“Sister, silence. This is not your fight,” Ebon said as Quiksilver continued to wither in pain. Sharp Beak continued to hold the pressure, the left wing feeling to crack and the wounds reopening, turning the snow around the wing red with blood. After another moment, he lifted his hind paw up and Quicksilver was able to gasp as the pain left him. Quicksilver rolled onto his side, clenching his wounded wing, fearing it might be broken again. After a few shaky breaths, he turned to face the colonel when he saw a sword pointed directly at his chest, ready to be stabbed into him at a moment's notice. He could see Sharp Beak seething in rage, and he started to believe that he was losing it. He also felt his body began to weaken, suffering too many beatings to linger on, yet he was able to keep himself together, just for a moment longer.

“Now… Stay… Down,” he bristled, his wings flaring out on either side, and every gryphon was silent as they waited for the equine’s response.

And responded he did.

He struggled once more, his body fighting him every step of the way. He placed a hoof onto the snow, struggling for every inch upward. He felt his body sway from side to side, attempting to remain upright as he tried to defy the gryphon from his victory.

“No… you can’t!” Sharp Beak said, his eyes widening in surprise. “I… command… you.” His words left him, sinking down like poison onto Quicksilver, yet he swept past them. If he could stand just once more, stand against this mad tyrant, then the bat ponies will have hope. He soon reached his full height, moving from side to side a little as he attempted to keep himself in control. Soon he locked himself into place, took a deep breath, then stared his determined eyes back at the colonel. Every gryphon and thestral surrounding them gasped in awe as they watched him stand up. Sharp Beak stared with a blank face and Quicksilver, taking notice of the gryphon’s weapon, began to shake ever so slightly.

“You… you should fear me!” Sharp Beak said, trying to keep his facade up but to no avail. “I am your superior, your better. Why don’t you break?!” he said, his claws still shaking against him. Quicksilver looked at the blade, then back at the colonel, still feeling the blood dripping from his muzzle and cheek. He turned to the side slightly, spitting out blood before looking back him.

“Because... I don’t fear you,” Quicksilver said, the first words he spoke since going through the beatings inflicted upon him and the chastisement that followed after. He then narrowed his eyes, continuing to stare his piercing gaze at him. “You know what you gryphons did to me back at Prancy?” He said, as Sharp Beak could only look on. “Back at Prancy, your soldiers came at me, with everything they had.

“They clawed and shredded at my face and body. Tried to put their swords through me. Attempted to smash my skull open. But none of them... could kill me,” he said, standing his ground against the mad gryphon. “They’re still back in that square, each one felled by my hooves.” He pointed a shaking hoof at him, giving a small smile along the way.

“And you, griffon are not the one to finish the job. And before this war is over, I’m going to kill you for all that you have done.”

Sharp Beak‘s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and took his short sword and swung straight at him. Quicksilver closed his eyes, seeing the end come on him, until he heard the sounds of two swords clashing. He opened his eyes back up and saw something he did not expect to see.

Deadeye stood in front of him, his blade holding Sharp Beak’s sword in place.

It was so fast, yet he didn’t even hear him move. Deadeye stood their, holding his ground and keeping Sharp Beak at bay. No matter how much Sharp Beak pushed his sword, Deadeye held his ground, the two swords locked in place. Deadeye soon lowered his head, until he was face to face with Sharp Beak.

“Even when broken, he’s twice the gryphon you are,” Deadeye said, shoving his blade forward until he pushed Sharp Beak back. The colonel stood their as if in a daze, his body shaking slightly but not enough for the other’s to notice. The two sides held their position, neither group making a move to stop the other side. Quicksilver then noticed Sharp Back shake his shoulders and a small laughter escaped from him.

“That is fine by me,” he said softly and calmly, sheathing his sword where it belonged. He then appeared to straighten himself out, his lost composure regained. He then turned and began walking away from the others, his retinue of soldiers following close behind him.

“Don't think this is over equine!” he called out. “I’ll be sure to break you in no time. I’ll have other proper punishments for you, and soon we’ll see you begging for mercy! Ha ha ha ha!” Sharp Beak‘s laughter continued on as they entered back into their camp, dispersing among the sea of tents. As soon as they left, Deadeye sheathed his blade then turned to meet Quicksilver in the eye.

“Brave equine, you have my respect.” Deadeye gave a subtle nod, something he thought he never see a gryphon do, especially a warrior of his caliber. Quicksilver then noticed something off and saw that Deadeye’s body began to shift to the side, and he was swiftly meeting the ground.

Quicksilver hit the floor hard and his body felt limp. His eyes closed and his dreams were awaiting for him.

Author's Note:

So Quicksilver stands, defining against the colonels ire. Will this small defiance cost Quicksilver, or will he survive this ordeal? Tune in to the next chapter find out.

I hope you all enjoy this epic chapter. I had a lot of fun making it and it took me quite awhile to make it work. I like to thank my editor for helping whip this story to what it is so far and I hope to continue to work and getting this story out there.

Art Credit goes to Evehly's. She is a very talented artist and I really enjoy her art. Do go check her out. The artwork she made will be up shortly so I'll add a link when it is ready.

Again they have my thanks, leave a comment down below and I'll see you all in the next chapter.

~Broman

Comments

[doctorpie25]

Can't wait for the next chapter :)

[Teraunce]

And Quicksilver just proves to the Royals that Ponies can have pride and strength of character equal to theirs.