Red Dawn, Pt. II
Typical nights in Griffonstone usually meant damp and hot. With barely any breeze at all to help with the sweat that would cling to fur and feathers like a curse. Open windows with screens to keep insects out and bars to keep the bad griffons away. Those would be used in conjunction with fans that ran on expensive mana batteries, if one could afford them.
Other times the nights were cold and snowy, with stupid howling wind and lots of snow that would melt and turn everything to mud. At least the bars and screens became optional because the windows were closed anyway due to the cold and the wind. Fans would be replaced by heating systems or portable heaters. Both were as expensive as the former. Additionally, the windows would clatter all night, usually when one needed to wake up early and rested in the morning for work. But that was only when a griffon had work to wake up early to. Or even when they had a home to begin with.
That night was noticeably worse than most, regardless of the weather. Because not only was it raining a cold and quickly thickening rain, but the wind was picking up speed too and occasional thunder could be heard from the overcast sky. Yet, that was still not enough for that night. There was a war about to explode and they had to flee from their homes because the Chancellor’s supporters would kill them. Or worse.
And then, young griffon hens like Georgia had to pretend they were trained agents like in the books and get their allies to flee.
But as griffons had caught the custom of sarcastically saying, ‘at least the rain cleaned the streets’. The corollary of the bastard sense of humor of griffonstonians.
Why, though? Friends with connections to Snow Mountains said shit had hit the fan and that it was a thick one. Like ‘we gotta go now’ kind of thick. Nobody really knew what was going on, only that they had to leave Griffonstone.
Some said that the Northerners were suddenly ready to move on the southern holds and that they had to leave Griffonstone or the GSA would arrest them. Others said that Princess Celestia had sneaked into the city and was rooting out their supporters.
‘Take only what you can carry and can’t live without.’ They told them. Armed griffons. Sometimes the ones that spoke with the funny accent, but sometimes they were neighbors or community leaders.
The result was adults rushing out with kids and very young fledglings wrapped in blankets to protect them from the cold and carried by their parents. Or their sisters, as was the case with Georgia.
Ironically, she knew it basically boiled down to her dad dreaming with Princess Luna. Or whatever that was, which didn't seem particularly reasonabled. She was definitely not going to share that, though. And she hoped her brother wouldn’t either.
The young, barely an adult if she stretched the definitions of the laws, hen that she was carried her little sister. She waited for her brother while he knocked on another door and urged their ‘brethren’ to wake his family. Drag them out in the cold so that they could flee the city together.
Georgia didn’t mind, as she thought that it was better anyways to be in a group if things went south, but they drew a lot of attention. She just hoped that her mom had gotten Madam Gladys to activate the teleporter because if that went awry… Well, a lot of griffons might be angry at her. After all, her dad and mom were two of those ‘community leaders’ that always knew what to do. The others probably wouldn’t have listened to her and her brother otherwise.
The other griffons in their group hung around her too. She was Madam Glady’s friend, and her mother was one of those ‘never-wrong loremasters’. Her father had connections to the powerful griffons in the northern hold and they even said that it was the elusive and legendary Lady Gwendolen that had mated her parents together. That made Georgia, her baby sister, and her brother special. Georgia was probably going to be trained as a Loremaster too, and her brother was certainly to become one of the ‘northerner lords’ they kept hearing about.
She also had a gun. And not just any gun, but one of the fancy, never-seen before and almost mythical automatic weapons. The same kind that would be given to The Lion’s soldiers to fight when they would finally sweep in from the North and end the corruption in the Griffonian government.
It was nothing like the outdated muskets that the ponies and the ‘hooflickers’ used. Their muskets were designed so that they could be used to fire enchanted crystal balls loaded with stunning or elemental spells. Not the northerner weapons. Theirs operated at a higher chamber pressure that would shatter the crystal balls and necessarily needed the lead bullets.
Not even ‘balls’, but bullets. Shaped ammunition. Or something. She hadn’t paid attention to the explanations.
What she got from it was that it was a symptom of the ponies’ overreliance on magic to solve everything. Griffon weapons were made to be easier to produce, such as the new military grade rifles. And just better at killing, like the old revolver muskets and the new machine guns. Made so that training new warriors would be easier.
Supporters among the southerners, such as her family, often saw the new weapons as a symbol of trust. That they were supposed to win if it came to a fight. The northerners even taught their supporters how to operate such weapons, as Georgia could clearly remember the training in Frozenlake.
Also the creepy way Lady Geena had tried to hook her up with some kid from her realm.
With all that said, it was easy to understand why griffons clung to her. The gun hung on the strap and across Georgia’s chest. It was like a symbol to them. She hated it. Shooting that thing seemed almost as terrifying as being shot with it. It was noisy, difficult to hold without losing balance (with how hard just standing on her hindlegs already was), and it was difficult to aim with.
For feather’s sake, she was holding her little baby sister! She shouldn’t be the one with the scary death machine! Her goals in life were painting and meeting interesting griffons, not shooting them.
While she was caught up in her thoughts and her little sister snuffled softly in her sleep, her brother was done talking to the griffons that lived in that house. They went inside, to prepare and leave too.
Or so it seemed. The house had a large garage on the side, and when the door opened, Georgia saw what was inside. Griffons were preparing a pair of carts with some sort of weapons in them. Northerner griffons that didn’t even speak the Common Equestrian or the Modern Griffonese, and among them was a big and scary hen that came out. She was blue and white, big as one of the northerner guys, and she spoke to her brother with a thick accent.
“Don’t worry…” The Amazonian northerner waved a dismissive paw at Georgia’s brother and gave him a bored glare. Georgia grimaced at her mocking, leering tone. Maybe she was just not a native speaker? “Geez, you sound like your father. You’re gonna end up with his stick up your butt.”
Her brother was as polite as could be and didn’t even raise his voice. So much so that Georgia couldn’t hear what he said in response. But then again, being so young and next to such a big and powerful griffoness, Georgia would’ve been very polite too.
“We shouldn’t be here like this. In the middle of the street.” An actual adult said next to Georgia. Her colors were hard to see in the dark and under the heavy cape she wore, but her head was white, and she had golden eyes. Her voice carried all the fear that Georgia would expect in that situation, but she seemed fine otherwise. Other than bug-eyed scared and swiveling her head around as though death might be upon her in seconds.
Come to think of it, maybe she was right.
“We have to wait, ma’am.” Georgia did her best to conceal her own insecurity. “We need to get all our griffons out of the city. And that is my brother. We’re not going anywhere without him.”
The older hen huffed and rolled her eyes before fixing Georgia a reproaching stare. “Where is Guella, anyways? Why did she and Gast leave their kids in charge of getting us out?”
“Mamma is with Madam Gladys, making sure the teleporter will be ready for us.” Georgia told her patiently, despite the other griffoness’ jittery anxiety getting to her nerves. Suddenly every shadow was out to get her too. “We had to leave before Pappa was ready. I’m sorry.”
“Leave the girl alone.” One of the griffons in the group, closer to them, chastised the older hen with a sarcastic chuckle. He was a tan and white adult with just a backpack between his wings and a calm smile on his beak. “Gast probably has more important things to do than dragging a bunch of useless griffons out of the city. We should be happy Gladys is gonna ‘port us away for free.”
“Lady Gwendolen owns Wild North TP.” Another guy shrugged, all brown and tan, while the teenage cyan and light green griffon girl next to him rolled her eyes.
“She expects us to pull our weight once this is done.” She pouted. “Northerners don’t do ‘free’.
The older female rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. Georgia silently thanked the guy that talked to her, just as her brother returned to them with a sigh of relief.
“Just one more to go.” He spoke more softly than he normally would. “Straight to the teleporter after that. We’ll be alright and we’ll be in Thunderpeak before we know it.”
“What will you do if we come across the local militia patrolling the streets?” That annoying hen sounded like a teacher trying to catch a student in a wrong answer.
To be fair, Georgia was nervous too, but that wasn’t helping anyone! And she meant to tell her just that, but her brother was much calmer than any of them were.
“We’ll do our best not to, Miss Gahra.” Georgia’s brother even smiled talking to her.
“But how are you going to do that?” She insisted with a glare. “Do you even know what you’re doing with our lives?”
“Please, don’t worry, Miss Gahra.” Georgia’s brother, Godwin, was either braver than she was, or had actually paid attention to the training camp in Frozenlake. Because Georgia had no idea how he dealt with that nonsense under pressure. “We will be safe soon. My Ma and Madam Gladys probably already have the teleporter operational, and we’ll be in Thunderpeak sooner than we expect.”
“She’s actually right, you know?” Yet another young male with very blue and green coverings whined next to the griffoness Georgia had decided to call the ‘heckler’. “Authorities are gonna notice if there’s even any activity near the teleporter. There are always local militias watching the plaza.”
“We’ll make do.” Godwin kept his calm voice and his poise. “But we need to move. We can’t just stay in one place like this.”
His sister agreed. Some fifty-odd griffons sneaking around in the middle of the night were bound to draw attention from other griffons inside their homes. They might get the town militia involved.
“Guys…” The male from before intervened again, before the group got too antsy and Georgia was thankful. “How about we let the griffons with the guns do their thing while we do our best to help. Or not get in their way.”
Fortunately, agreement was unanimous, and Georgia’s brother got the group moving again by leading the way. She did her best to stay close and make sure her baby sister was awake and holding on to her.
***
The southerners left. Gund had expected that they would at least help them, but he supposed that the southerners had to get the supporters out of town. Master Gabriel was not one of theirs and he was only one, after all.
It was true Gund was not really a northerner either, as he was born and lived his whole life in Thunderpeak, but it was the further north the South would reach.
He was Master Gabriel’s apprentice and a student of Griffon History. The ‘real’ history. Typically a peaceful griffon, Gund wouldn’t be afraid of using violence if that was what it took to free Master Gabriel. There was no way he might be wrong, as his friend and crush was there too, ready to do the same thing. And she was usually much more rational than he was. But not only that! The entirety of the griffons that worked with Master Gabriel at the museum back in their hometown were there too!
Princess Luna had messed up badly by having Master Gabriel arrested! She kicked a hornet’s nest and he almost wished she’d show up because she would get her butt stung.
Almost. She was quite scary sometimes.
Such a weird situation though. Gund had grown up thinking of the Princess of the Night as everybody’s friend. The protector of dreams. It was bizarre to have her as the enemy. Maybe that was what the Northerners meant with ‘pony propaganda’.
Bottom line, since Gund wasn’t able to stop Princess Luna from injuring and capturing his mentor, he would assist the Swordmaiden in rescuing him.
Only one problem, though. As he was helping the others load up the carts with ammunition for the weapons, he noticed his heart was not so strong, after all. While he managed to carry stuff, even with his less impressive size, his paws wouldn’t stop shaking. And the realization that the southerners wouldn’t be helping brought to his mind the fact that numbers wouldn’t be on his side.
He didn’t stop, though. Especially since his friend, Geanna, was helping.
“Are you okay, Shorty?” The large Northerner, a real one, that was Lady Gwineth approached him with a springy stride and a worried expression. “I don’t want any of my guys having second thoughts just before we go to a fight. And those rattling knuckles have me worried.”
Yeah… Being called ‘shorty’ by his hero that sprung him out of prison wasn’t exactly a booster of morale. Still, he sucked up the air and stuffed his chest. “No! Not at all! I’m as ready as I’ll ever be! Yep! Ready to kick some butt! Wooo!”
She made a perplexed frown that morphed into a weird and uncomfortable grin. “I don’t really do this… Uh, friendly stuff. But I kinda like you… I’m not sure why. So, I’ll tell ya something that will either make you go insane or it’s gonna free you.”
“You don’t have to go.” She said plainly.
He just blinked dumbly at her.
“Guilt-free, walk away. None of this matters. See that griffon over there?” His eyes followed her steel-blue talon to one of their friends preparing the carts for the fight. “He doesn’t matter.”
He gasped at her words. “Lady Gwineth… Uh… I know we’re not as ‘elite’ as you are…”
“No. No, silly.” She shook her head. “I mean. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-one.” He said had a confused frown.
“Yeah. Princess Celestia is said to be about six thousand years old.” Gwineth shrugged. “The Harpy, the one we’re not supposed to talk about… She’s ‘older than the mountains’, as Lady Gwendolen will tell you.”
“How is that supposed to help?” He tilted his head, still with his confused frown.
“Do you think that any of this is about you?” Her stare changed to become a sarcastic deadpan. “Or about any of us? We’re all a secondary character in a story that isn’t ours. Most won’t even be a footnote. These griffons that will die tonight will have no mention. Only their families will remember them. For a while.”
“Oh…” He shifted nervously on his feet and stared at the floor for a second. “I uh. Don’t know how to feel about this.”
“The whole honor bullshit they tell you exists precisely to keep you from noticing this.” She sat and opened her forelegs. “Noooone of this will matter in the least. It’s all so that The harpy and Celestia do their little dance of fucking each other up.”
“That sounds a little cynical.” Gund fidgeted with his fingers before he gave her an angry frown. “Or a lot.”
Gwineth pointed at Gund’s friend Geanna, in the back. She was talking over a map with one of the grunts. “Do you think you’re gonna score with her because you’re here putting your life at risk over this loyalty to Master Gabriel?”
Well, he would be lying if he said the thought never crossed his mind. Geanna did respect a griffon that could get things done. Brave griffons. He didn’t say it aloud, but the griffoness knew. Somehow.
Gwineth laughed. “It’s written all over your face, like a kid on his first date! The kind that doesn’t realize they’re there just because the girl wants a loser to pay for dinner.”
“You won’t, you tool.” She had her sarcastic smile again. “All she cares about is being ‘made’. She’s gonna earn her place taking part in this and then she’s gonna reap a reward. She wants in on the exclusive club. Same as that guy over there and that one too. Maybe it’s her education. Maybe it’s just money. But it’s certainly not you, or anything related to you.”
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Gund pouted at the larger griffoness. How should he even respond to that? That wasn’t how you were supposed to talk to a brother in arms before a mission. That was almost traitorous!
“Yeah, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about this Gabriel guy.” She shrugged again. “I’m here because I work for Lady Gwendolen and she lets me sleep and eat in the best places, griffons treat me like royalty, and she puts me to do my two favorite things: killing and fucking.”
“Is there a point to this whole drivel?” Gund realized he had suddenly lost all respect for his hero. What an unpleasant and vulgar creature.
“Yes, you dumbfuck.” She slapped him upside the head. “You’re not a fighter. You’re here risking death at something you don’t know how to do for a chick that doesn’t care about you. Not even a real Northerner queen. For a master that has more important matters to mind than you, and for a nonexistent sense of honor all the adults understand is a façade. All in a world that doesn’t care about you.”
Then she shoved him in his chest. “If you want to feel like a hero, go pay a hooker to pretend you saved her from a street gang, or something.”
“Get this. It is the difference between gods and mortals.” Her frown turned serious. “They make their schemes and play their games. They have their way with us and when they’re done, they forget about us. We just get screwed because of them. And in the end, we get nothing. We just die and fade away. This is why I do what I do. Our time in this shitty life is limited. Go take care of your own problems. Live for yourself.”
She stared at Geanna, then back at Gund with a spiteful grin. “Or at least go get what you want before you buy it for the sake of a super powerful being that’s not gonna remember you a week after you’re gone.”
She grinned like she hadn’t just said the vilest things to him. “I’ll even help if you want. I can teach you some nifty stuff.”
“Yeah, well… I disagree.” He told her with a raised beak and a serious glare. He had to stare up as she was taller than he was, after all. “I’m loyal to Master Gabriel. And it’s about more than a fancy house and a comfortable life. He’s an honorable leader for us. And Geanna does like me. And so does The Harpy!”
“Fine.” The larger female showed him a mocking grin and wiggled her hind at him. “I don’t think you want some of this, then. Fine. Keep loading this ammo. It’s gonna make aaaall the difference when some stray local militia stumbles into you in the fight. When you end with a bullet in your head. I hope she’ll at least remember your name at the funeral.”
***
Gast landed from his short flight right before he entered King Grover’s Plaza. The path from his home put him in the street with the government office buildings that spilled from the plaza. The rest of the buildings were commercial ones, and were also closed. That was good because they were all closed, dark in the drizzly night and no griffon would be bothering him on his way.
He had split with Gustav and with some luck the other griffon would be in his position without too much of a delay. The quicker they were able to deal with their mission the better it would be for all involved. And smaller the chance that something would go wrong.
For the time being, he stashed his pistol under his wing and walked in the most casual way his fast-beating heart allowed into the plaza.
Fortunately, the budget cuts had turned it dark and vacant in the night. No griffons were there to stop him. The hospital was open, but the griffons in there were busy and without the food stands they were unlikely to bother him either.
He quickly crossed the street into the fancy cobblestone that made the floor of the plaza and his silent griffon feet splish-splashed quietly on the pooled rainwater. It was cold, but at least the air smelled clean. The water drained from the mighty stone griffon’s wings and made a noise that made him more comfortable nobody would hear him. As silly as that was. He tried to focus and walked across the plaza as quickly as he was comfortable with, with a non-suspicious gait.
The lit windows on the Chancellor’s Palace bothered him, but instead of thinking of all the soldiers that might be guarding the place, or over-zealous officials that might be in there, he focused on his destination. The gates were plain in sight and within seconds he was before the gates to the Chancellor’s Palace. Unimpeded.
It was more a glorified office building and decadent mansion for the Chancellor-in-office than a palace like Canterlot’s or Griffindell’s. It was mostly dark, except for the floodlights that ensured the guards could see the gates and fences that separated it from the plaza.
Where the bars were usually polished, and the tips adorned with golden flower-shaped caps, weeks of angry protests had taken their toll on them. Several of the former were bent and marred by dents while most of the caps were gone. In reality, they were made of brass and painted with a cheap golden paint, but desperate griffons couldn’t tell the difference, apparently.
Behind the bars stood a watchtower to each side, some hooves to the right and left. Gast knew that in each was a good shooter with a decent musket. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be a problem and he walked to the gate. Confident that his rank would be recognized.
The lock in the arching gate was busted too. The guards then secured it with a chain and a padlock. Speaking of them, the two that kept watch had retreated to the top of the stairs, under the façade, to avoid the rain. But as Gast stopped by the gates and gave them a serious stare, one of the two came down to the gate.
He was a young and tired, tan, and sandy griffon. His brown eyes were barely open under his green, GSA issued raincoat. He also spoke with the most frustrated and contemptuous tone Gast had ever heard. “Sir, it’s the middle of the night. And it’s raining. The palace is closed. Even during the day.”
The other guard rushed down the stairs and almost tripped on his raincoat, then almost slipped on the wet stone stairs. None of that kept him from quietly chastising the other guard. “It’s Colonel Gast, you birdbrain!”
Then, the orange and white griffon that he was turned to stare at Gast on the other side of the gate. After a few seconds, he turned back to the first guard. “Well?”
“I don’t have the key.” The younger, brown-eyed griffon responded. “Don’t you?”
“No, I don’t, you dumbass!” The white-faced griffon ragged the other. “You were supposed to get it before our shift!”
In any other situation Gast would be amused by the exchange between the two grunts. “I need access. Quickly.”
“Ah… Ah…” The younger’s eyes shifted from one side to the other. “I know! We can open the side gate. The guards there may not have missed their key!”
“No!” Gast cried before he got a hold of his nerves and startled the two. “No. That is not. Necessary. I will just fly over the gate. Do you have the keys to the door?”
“Eh…” The younger one took a step back. “No… But it’s not locked either.”
“What?” The older guard turned to the younger again.
It was supposed to be ungainly, but Gast flew over the gate, discreetly holding his weapon to his chest in the dark. The two soldiers argued like a comedy skit one might see with an artist troupe when they used to gather in the Plaza.
Thank The Mother for the GSA’s incompetence. It also saved their lives, and that of the griffon that sat in the small lookout further to the left. He just kept watching the whole exchange with mild interest and saluted Gast when he looked in his direction.
Regardless, the two kept throwing asinine accusations and blame at each other as Gast tried the handle on the large brown wood doors and they gave way into the hall. A sizable hall with the floor made of marble with six columns that served no other purpose than making the building more expensive. The ceiling had no features other than the golden finish at the top of the walls.
Deep brown doors led to meeting rooms and open ways to corridors that made the wings of the building. The deep wall was shared by a door to the ballroom and the double flight of stairs that led to the floor above on each side. Other than that, it was an empty hall with no function other than being an atrium.
Under the dim light of the off-hour illumination, Gast courteously nodded to a guard wearing the gala uniform. Green and full of golden wastes of money. Like the halberd the guard held while sitting close to the door to the ballroom.
“Do you need anything, Colonel?” The solicitous soldier asked, more professional than the others.
“No.” Gast waved the wing not holding his gun at the soldier. “I’m just here for something quick. Ah… I need it for a meeting in the morning.”
The soldier just nodded politely and Gast cringed inside. He was too nervous, talking too much. And just walked away with contained quick steps before he messed it all up too bad.
The corridor was better lit than the hall and all the doors to the offices and meeting rooms were closed. It was better that way because the less griffons saw him, the less he interacted with anyone, the better.
His feet tapped as silent as griffon feet would in the marble, but in the silence of the night even that made him on edge. He was walking too fast. His heart raced and he needed to take control of his emotions. He wasn’t some kid on his first mission.
Out of sight, he closed his eyes and stopped for an instant. Took a deep breath and walked as casually as he could. He had permission to be in that place. At any hour. Everything was fine, even though his gun weighed under his wing.
He made his way to the end of the corridor without interruption or witnesses. After a bend, the corridor retained its luxurious atmosphere, but the kitchen also retained the smells of the day. The meals for the government workers and for the Chancellor himself were made in there.
But, as expected, the aromas of the lush food were the only things that remained from the day. Gast quickly closed the door after entering the restaurant and crossed the open hall. The tables and sitting pillows were put to the side against the solid wall. Light from the inner yard came in from the windows and he avoided them, making his way to the swinging doors that connected to the kitchen. This time he walked as fast as he could. Almost ran but kept from it to avoid even more noise.
Stopping abruptly past the doors, he scanned the kitchen. Metal countertops, hanging pans, cookers, and pots, as well as all sorts of utensils. The place smelled of bleach, but contained not a living soul, fortunately. The lights were all off too, and he didn’t dare turn them on. Instead, he made his way between the long countertops and ovens with careful steps and watchful eyes. He kept his wings to himself and his tail too, not to disturb any of the utensils likely to make too much noise and attract attention he didn’t want.
At the back he found the reddish-orange door to the outside. Next to it, hanging from the keyholder in the wall was the key to that door. Identified by the obnoxiously large wooden tag on it with ‘supply’ carved and scorched on it. Gast grabbed it and tried it on the door. The key spun, and the lock opened. The handle turned, and the door was ajar.
On the other side, on the walkway was Gustav and the small blue and cyan hen Gast was expecting to see with him. Letting them pass, he let out a sigh of relief. “Was there any problem?”
“Yes!” The griffoness glared at him. “This psychopath shot a kid!”
Gustav shook his head and frowned. “He wasn’t a ‘kid’. He was a soldier with a musket, and he was in the way of the mission. That is why we carry weapons.”
“Did you dispose of his body?” Gustav wouldn’t make such a basic mistake but asking wouldn’t hurt. Gast couldn’t contain his own frown, though and was lucky he wasn’t the one put in that situation. His son’s face floated before him. “We can’t have them dead in the gutter.”
“I’m not an idiot, Gast.” The black griffon deadpanned.
“Yeah.” The female spoke a little too loud for Gast’s taste. “Dropped him inside a cart and covered him with a dirty cloth.”
“For crying out loud!” Gustav turned to her, his impressive size and voice intimidated the small griffoness. Even despite the soft volume he used. “Denounce me as soon as the war is over. Right now, you have a job to do. Move.”
“This way.” Gast led the pair through the kitchen after closing the door.
Back to the restaurant, they rushed as silently as possible their way through it. Fortunately, their third companion didn’t complain anymore and was as conscious of being silent as she should.
In the lead, Gast first pushed the door back to the corridor until a narrow opening allowed him to see the soldier in the gala uniform walking away from it. Fortunately, none of the others asked what was wrong. He would rather not risk being heard, nor getting into an altercation just yet.
Once the way was clear, he opened the door and led the others through. Fortunately, the restaurant staff were tasked with taking food and snacks to the griffons that worked on the floor above. There were stairs in that wing that took them towards their destination without need for the main stairs.
A fleeting thought occurred to Gast. That the Northerners would show their servants with pride, while the Southerners would hide their subordinates and employees. Even though the propaganda cried foul at The Lion’s vassals for their thralls and their system of lieges and sponsored tenants.
A pair of flights above they found a lit corridor. Much of the same, and with a sleepy griffon that sat before the main stairs, holding his weight against his musket. Gast held the group at the bend the corridor formed, watching him. And the soldier didn’t move. He wasn’t asleep though. Just bored and unfocused.
He could be a problem and Gast wanted to avoid any. Much more so when the guard in the gala uniform walked up the stairs and talked to him. “Hey.”
“Nothing to report.” The bored soldier drawled, still hanging on to his musket and with a bored sigh. “Do we really need to keep doing this?”
“Yeah, we do.” The one wearing the gala uniform walked around and glared at the other. Gast hid behind the corner before was seen. They heard them talk, though. “Shouldn’t have screwed up.”
With that, the older soldier’s steps went down the stairs to the ground floor and Gast turned to his two companions, speaking in hushed tones. “Do you have the key?”
Gustav nodded silently and the griffoness simply watched as Gast went on. “I’m going to distract him.”
He focused on the female. “Get in, take the photos as quickly as you can, leave. Go straight to the teleporter.”
“You know I wasn’t born yesterday, right?” She glared at him. “I know what I’m doing too.”
“Fine.” He whispered back to her and turned to Gustav, who simply nodded in understanding at him.
Finally, Gast didn’t waste any more time and turned the corner. He walked as casually as he could until the soldier noticed him. The kid stiffened and straightened his back, to which Gast responded with a salutation of his free wing.
“At ease, soldier.” The youth didn’t exactly relax, but he let his expression show his boredom. Gast walked around him, taking the sentry’s attention along. “I take it you don’t appreciate night guard duty?”
It was a nice sitting room with no other purpose than connecting the floors with the stairs. But the large windows showed the flash of lightning outside, and the rainfall crept on it.
“Ah… I’m not a fan. Sir. Colonel. Sir.” The griffon grimaced but tried not to show it. He was young, though. Transparent in his inexperience. More importantly, Gast could see Gustav and their companion entering one of the doors after she quickly fumbled with the lock. “But I guess I got myself stuck here.”
“Really?” Gast feigned interest with a friendly smile he also feigned. “It’s not uncommon. You shouldn’t beat yourself over it.”
“Yes sir, I know. It’s just that…” He gave a hopeless sigh. “There is so much about this ‘military life’ that I just can’t get used to. Like… Getting up so soon. And these night shifts. And the food. Sweet Celestia, the food in the mess hall is awful! And don’t even get me started on the Sarge. Because the Sarge…”
Gast kept his smile and listened while he hoped to His Mother that Gustav and the spy wouldn’t take too long.
***
The rain was getting heavier and colder. The wind picked up and brought a chill with it, smelling of thunder and charged with magic. Georgia could swear that the streets had gotten darker too, but every once in a while, lightning would flash. It would lit the buildings with a fleeting and ghostly light. Only to be followed by thunder.
She knew she was supposed to like lightning and thunder, since they were symbols of her Mother. The real one, not her mortal mother. Freaky stuff. Especially when your own mother tells you that, but Georgia knew that her Northerner mother meant the best for her.
They had made it to the last home that they needed to visit. It was one of the not-so-rich mansions, much like her family’s own. She waited in the street with the rest of the group while her brother knocked insistently on the door. They were a lot of griffons, and suspiciously so. The last family had added six to the group. Two of them kids barely old enough to talk and that small detail put Georgia on edge. Even more than she already was.
They just stood in the middle of the walkway on a clumped-up line, quietly waiting while the door in the mansion opened. Of course, a butler opened and was appalled at the time of the visit.
‘Just get them up, you old fart!’, she wanted to yell, but that would’ve been a bad idea. Worse than being rude, it would draw even more attention than their weird group already did. It would be likely to cause further delay when they had no time. Whose idea was it? They should just have told griffons to make it to the teleporter on their own.
Nonetheless, Georgia’s brother had to insist and convince the servant griffon to call his employers. Then he had to talk to them and convince them that they were the real deal. The whole thing was excruciatingly time-consuming when time was the last thing they had that night.
She simply remained quiet and waited, despite that same griffoness from before glaring and huffing anxiously. Her mother had taught her that calm and collectedness were paramount in that sort of situation. That there was a time to be calm, and a time for rage. And despite the way she felt about that annoying hen, that was a time for calm. But if it wasn’t, she’d probably unload all her frustration on her.
Georgia’s eyes shifted nervously. At the door where her brother waited, sitting under the small awning that protected it. And then both corners of the street. From where a Local Militia squad could burst out at any moment. Or even worse, the Griffonian Standing Army in the form of a Blackfeather operative hunting for dissidents.
She liked to believe those were just a myth among the Lion’s supporters, but she knew how awful griffons could be.
Fortunately, many moments passed and no militiagriffon or spy came from the corners of the street.
“Please. I know this is unexpected,” her brother told the old griffoness fussing with something just inside the mansion. “But we need to keep moving.”
“I! I can’t leave this behind!” Georgia, and half of their group cringed at how loud she yelled at her brother. Especially the members of her family. An adult couple. Two kids and an older sibling male carrying some load on his backs as were his parents.
“Mom!” The female shushed her, but it only made the elderly griffoness even more nervous.
“This is not helping!” The older one threw a drawer to the floor and kept fussing over something.
“Oh, for feather’s sake!” The ‘heckler’ growled. “Just drag her along!”
“This isn’t helping either!” Georgia came short of yelling at her and she gasped like an offended infant.
“Don’t you shush me, kid!” The angry female stomped her feet like a tantrum. “I’ve been working with your parents since before you were born!”
And that was the moment a griffon guy in leather armor, and under the heavy raincoat used by the local militia came out of the nearest corner. “Hey, what is all this yelling?!”
They all froze. He stopped for an instant and frowned at the grouped-up griffons. They just stood there, like scared deer, on the sidewalk as he stared at them with a surprised gaping beak. “What the heck is this?”
Another one came after him with an inquisitive stare.
“Seriously!” The first asked. “What are you all doing out here in the middle of the night and under the rain?”
“Sir.” The one griffon that had earlier talked to the ‘heckler’ stepped forward. Georgia didn’t even know their names. “There is no crime in being outside during the night. Much less under the rain. Personally, I find it quite refreshing.”
The first of the two militias didn’t like it at all. “Okay, smart guy. How about you start explaining…”
The second militiagriffon interrupted him. He sat, reaching for his pistol in his chest. “Is that a weapon?!”
Georgia gasped and took a scared step back before she looked down at the weapon hanging from her neck. “I, ah…”
“Put it down, miss!” The former griffon reacted as did the former. “Put it on the ground now!”
Georgia just froze. She heard what they said clearly. She understood the words that they spoke and what they meant. She understood what they wanted her to do. She knew what she had to do. But the actions didn’t come to mind. The ideas didn’t transform into actions. She just stood there, staring at the guards wide-eyed and bewildered.
A repetitive drumming sound echoed in the dark street, and she screamed as the two griffons dropped to the gray stone bricks of the sidewalk. Reddened rainwater flowed to the gutter, bright and terrible as the lightning that flashed. And then whistles started sounding in every direction.
“Move!” Her brother shouted from the door of the mansion, holding his weapon on his paws. “We have to go! Now!”
***
“And then there is the mattress in my bed.” The soldier went on as Gast resisted the temptation of smashing his skull with the gun under his wing. “Which is not that bad, mind you, but they could make a better effort choosing proper ones. Especially during training missions. Just because we’re pretending to be in a war, there is no reason to actually sleep like we’re in a war.”
“And that is not just because I used to sell those.” The soldier added with a raised finger.
Just as he decided he had had enough, his young griffoness accomplice came out of the office as the door opened slowly. She grimaced, looking in their direction, but soon ran off toward the stairs on the other end of the corridor, past the bend it made.
Gustav came out right after and slowly crept towards Gast and the complaining soldier, after locking the door again. Without the kid noticing anything, the black griffon hit him behind the head with his pistol. With him down cold, Gustav glared at Gast and whispered. “What were you doing?”
Gast sighed and shrugged, speaking with the same volume. “I didn’t want to alert the other guard below. He should be coming up soon, by the way.”
“That could be a problem.” Gustav frowned thoughtfully.
Gast shook his head and pointed at the first door on the corridor opposite to the one they had come. “There is a meeting room the soldiers use to sleep during the night shift.”
“That sounds counterproductive.” Gustav’s eyebrow raised.
“They are not supposed to.” Gast shrugged. “Everyone knows, but nobody does anything about it.”
“Typical GSA…” The black griffon made a blank expression. “I’ll help you drag this useless sod, then. Let’s go. Before the other guard shows up. He’ll assume this one is resting.”
Gast nodded and grabbed one of the unconscious griffon’s paws, with his collaborator doing the same. They dragged the soldier, with his musket resting on his body, across the hall and into the corridor. Gast opened the door, and they dragged the soldier inside.
It was a nice meeting room that served as a hub for four others, two on each side. It had a window covered up behind curtains, a small table between the couches and even a table for meetings and games near the window. A nice tan carpet and a chandelier that was off.
Snoring came from all of the doors and the pair plopped the unconscious griffon on a couch with his musket on the floor before him.
“How in the Scorch is the GSA even able to function?” Gustav asked with an angry frown and low voice.
“In the backs of the few competent officers and soldiers.” Gast shrugged again. “We’ve perfected incompetence and corruption while actually getting stuff minimally done so that we could keep exploring this cursed feather bedding.”
They left, and once back in the corridor, they closed the door. Gustav had a serious and grim expression at Gast. “Well, let’s start fixing the problem one corrupt bastard at a time.”
He went first and Gast followed him up the stairs to the third floor. The double doors to the Chancellor’s office were closed and there was not a guard in sight.
“This way.” Gast said. He hurried up on his silent steps and was followed by the other. They went to the bend in the corridor that made the wing opposite to the one where the kitchen was. He stopped there. Two guards stood before the doors that guarded their target.
As he stopped and spied around the bend in the wall, Gustav did the same.
A pair of griffons indeed stood guard, but they didn’t wear the GSA green uniform. They wore instead, heavily customized leather armor with metallic plates added to them. They were also armed with poleaxes, swords, and multiple pistols. Although none of them had the advanced griffon armament from the North. Gast noted that with some happiness, as it seemed as though the northerners were at least competent at keeping their armories secure.
He didn’t consider the northern griffons better than the ones living in the South. It was the environment. The politicians that were allowed to do as they wanted who caused the problems. Griffonia needed The Lion, but not because he had some irreproachable moral ground to stand on. It was because something needed to change in Griffonia. Anything. Before it imploded and the Hall of friendship decided that an intervention was needed.
If anyone was going to ‘intervene’ it would be griffons. All that mess was an internal griffon affair and they didn’t need the ponies meddling in. Of course, Luna had caused him to fire off the events of that night, but that was still griffons dealing with griffon issues.
For their sovereignty, for the dignity of Griffons as a race.
“Mercenaries.” Gustav grimly interrupted Gast’s thoughts.
“It should say a lot that Gail’s quarters are guarded by private mercenaries rather than his own military.” Gast matched his tone.
“As soon as there is any fighting, Gail is going to flee.” Gustav kept the grim in his voice, adding a little anger. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard just clambered off the window and flew like an ostrich. He would probably make such a ruckus he would alert the entire town.”
Gast simply agreed in silence before he spoke a few seconds later. “How do you want to do this?”
Gustav responded without missing a beat, reaching for his weapon. “There is a griffon that needs killing for the sake of Griffonia. If there was ever a moment to lay one’s life, this is it.”
Gast didn’t respond, but same as Gustav, he drew his pistol and pulled the slide and the hammer back.
“I’ll shoot the one farthest.” Gustav added. “You shoot the other.”
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Hmmm... This begs a question:
So how is it that Gast's daughter knows that Luna triggered this exodus that her father ordered when HE wasn't supposed to be able to remember it?
11208504
He told Georgia's mother before they left. And the way he remembers is the same mechanism through which Gilda's interaction with Northerners is supposed to help her guide The Harpy towards a more savory version of her ambitions. Soul memories. Vague soul memories.
Georgia is summing things up in a very simplistic way. Although, it may be better for me to rephrase that, if it got you that impression. I'll see about that.
11208701
But Luna wiped her involvement from his mind, leaving him only the imperative to act on her orders. He shouldn't be able to tell either his wife or his children about the princess.
Or did Luna's ability fail to wipe his memory of the dream? When he woke up, the narration said he had forgotten Luna was in his head.
11208711
This is Gast's dialogue with his mate that made Georgia think that. If it still sounds weird, I'll change the narration of Georgia's thoughts to better represent that.
11208718
That's just it, from Gast's dialogue, the premonition could have just as easily come from the Harpy, for all both he and his wife should be able to tell.
Add to that, if they really suspect Luna's involvement, then his family wouldn't/shouldn't be willing to go along with the exodus.
11208729
Yeah, I understand what you're saying. But The Harpy doesn't talk to everybody like she does to Gilda (and Grigory plus Gwineth, to be fair). Gast's mate is suggesting it might've been Luna simply because Luna is the one that 'deals' with dreams.
I didn't mean to imply they would conclude the Harpy 'pinged' him to do that, because she doesn't do that. The dreams that griffons have are of a monster trying to enter a place which is a reflex of The Harpy trying to enter their Palace of the Self. Or some personal variation of that.
Georgia's thoughts were meant more as a way to show how disgruntled and frustrated with the situation she is. Not to mention scared. Because it was weird and because of how much of a shot in the dark that all seemed to her. She's literally summing up the situation incorrectly.
About them following him, they would either way. Because he's the head of the family.
Well, with all that said, I'll add a mention of the Harpy in their conversation.