Piece of Parchment

by Metemponychosis

Differences

Twilight tried enjoying her coffee, maybe having a peaceful breakfast with her friends. The griffons didn’t want to share the table with them, choosing instead to hide in the lower deck and eat the available fruits. Twilight didn’t oppose it. They probably wanted to eat without ‘the ponies’ smelling of grass next to their food. On the other hoof, Twilight and her friends could enjoy a peaceful morning meal without the predators looming over them. At least, that was the intention when she sat with her friends at the table, inside the airship’s private quarters.

For a downed airship that had been effectively impounded, the Magic of Friendship had a decent selection of breakfast foods and drinks. As they talked about unimportant things, Twilight’s friends enjoyed quality coffee, so good even the less refined manners of the airship’s crew couldn’t spoil it. It smelled marvelously and the food, without exception, tasted wonderfully. Fresh strawberries with the smoothest of creams and lime juice so tasty it was probably made for them from fresh fruit. Rarity even praised the pancakes with blueberry jam. But Twilight preferred the prench toast with butter and the waffles. Both tasted of happiness before ‘it’ dawned on her mind.

Cadance had retired to the back of the private quarters. Miss Calcite had recuperated from, luckily, no more than a bump on the head. They busied themselves with feeding the baby, and given the lack of screeching and begging, they succeeded. Freed of such concerns, Twilight’s mind turned to more immediate, and perhaps picky concerns. Such as the origin of their food.

“I am not going to make accusations, or judge anypony….” Twilight frowned at her waffle with chocolate chunks, then at Spike’s white and foamy coconut frappé. “But I think the airship’s crewponies seem to have had time to sack Princess Celestia’s airship before we escaped.”

“I’m not complaining!” Pinkie happily munched at a mouthful of vanilla cookies dotted with white chocolate drops. “Hum-hum. Not at all.”

“So, what, Twi?” Rainbow stopped gobbling down dollops of mint and chocolate ice cream for a second. “I mean… It’s for us, right?”

“It was all bought with our tax money.” Applejack took a bite of an apple and gave it an appraising stare while she chewed. “This here apple definitively came from Sweet Apple Acres! Probably the north field. But they treated it like a rock in a bucket.”

“A lot of creatures died and suffered injuries…” Twilight groused, and her mouth twisted with a frown.

“Well…” Shining shrugged, holding a cup of yogurt and avocado slices with his telekinetic magic. “It would have gone to waste. Not eating this stuff won’t fix anything, Twilight.”

“I can’t believe you guys…” Twilight groaned.

“Darling. Shining Armor is right. It would all have gone to waste.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “It is not disrespectful in any way. I understand you are feeling guilty… I am too. But there was little we could have done to prevent what happened. Even our griffon friends, had they not acted, our important quest would have ended.”

Twilight sighed with her ears drooping. Harsh, but true.

“Besides, princess…” Her very own Royal Guard spoke, holding a cup of lemon yogurt. “Celestia’s Guards certainly went out of their way to help the others. These airships are made with safety and evacuation procedures in mind. Even in a real combat situation.”

Twilight hummed angrily, matching her expression. But Starlight Glimmer took a second from her fruit salad and rose a calming hoof. “Nobody is saying you are wrong. Just that we can’t do anything about it and there really was no other way. We knew what we were getting into when we embarked on this quest.”

Then the unicorn frowned a biting glance at the princess. “Didn’t I tell you to let go of this whole mess before it even started?! Back in the library, back home?”

Twilight prepared to present a quick, but well-thought argument about how the airship’s crew could’ve been doing something to guarantee the safety of many creatures aboard Celestia’s airship. But a crashing noise and Gallensa’s irksome screeching interrupted her with a scare.

The princess groaned and left the table with an exasperated moan. “What is it now?!”

Storming out of her private quarters, Twilight found the airship’s deck vividly illuminated with sunlight and bathed in dew. Hot vapor rose from the damp wood, though it might still be from the rain. It would be empty if not for a couple of the pegasus crewponies looking out in all directions with spyglasses. The old griffon Loremaster called Gehenna sat at an improvised table in the form of a crate by the airship’s bow. One of the crewponies, cyan and blue, dressed in an open black jacket and red bandana held an umbrella to protect her from the sun in the cloudless sky.

For some reason Twilight honestly didn’t want to know.

Gallensa still screeched and yelled, banging at the crate with her closed fist as Gehenna simply stared at her, unfazed like a mountain before a breeze. A broken cup and unknown liquid on the floor told Twilight the two had some sort of disagreement. A violent one.

As if Gallensa’s insistent yelling and shrieking weren’t clues enough.

“Is there a problem?” Twilight approached with her ears pulled back. Her annoyance didn’t come from the morning yelling, but from the high-pitched screaming in a foreign language hurting her ears.

“Yes!” Gallensa turned to the princess and her intense glare made Twilight’s eyes pop wide as she took a step back. The griffoness, however, amazed Twilight at how easily she could seamlessly switch between two completely different languages. “The traitor is not onboard!”

“What? Who?” Twilight gathered her wits and cocked an eyebrow. “You mean… What was his name? Grinolf? Wasn’t he with you when we boarded?”

“I saw him onboard!” Gallensa yelled and then turned to Gehenna and screeched at her some more in their own language.

“What happened to him?” Cadance came next to Twilight and frowned at the younger griffoness, also drawn by the yelling. “And why are you so angry? I can’t understand Griffonese, much less this dialect of yours.”

“He was supposed to return with us to Griffindell.” Gehenna finally spoke with a calm and controlled voice while one of the pegasus crewponies cleaned the spilled liquid. “But he seems to have escaped sometime during the night. Lady Gallensa is angry because of it. She blames me and the pegasi.”

“And you didn’t know in any way, nor could possibly have stopped him…” Gallensa accused, using the universal language so Twilight and Cadance would understand, but all three of them ignored her.

“Because he knows important things about airship operations and was a good soldier?” Twilight mused. “I wonder if he will try to request asylum again.”

“Good soldiers don’t betray their lieges. Much less refuse to accept their lot in life.” The younger griffoness mumbled angrily like a filly being told she’s wrong.

“No.” Cadance pointed a hoof at the yellow hen. “She’s angry because she can’t torture him over not being perfect like she is.”

Twilight’s ears pulled back again. “I don’t have the patience for this.”

“Such matters are important to us, Princess.” Gehenna spoke with the same serenity as before. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I would! They are important to me too.” Cadance banged a hoof on the floor. “It’s simple! You treated a young and impressionable creature as though he was broken. Gee… I wonder why would he want to distance himself and reject actual help? Could it be because the actually believes he’s broken? And then came to a point where he believed there was no point in trying to improve? Because he was playing a losing game?”

“This is why Lady Gwendolen has sent me to rescue him.” Gehenna retorted with irritating calmness. “It is true we wished to preserve many secrets he holds, but Lady Gwendolen wished to rectify the situation.”

Cadance sat on her hind and joined her hooves with a fake smile and voice. “Oh my! I am so, so sorry I branded you a pariah in our backwards society. May I, perhaps, grant you a consolation prize so you won’t tell the ponies about our fancy airship? Make you forget your schmaltzy emotions? That I broke. Because I think you are inferior?”

Twilight chose to keep her mouth shut. She understood Cadance’s frustration, but given they were trying to work together, she could have afforded to avoid the sarcastic tone.

“On my path to becoming a Loremaster I have learned many things, Princess. More than you can imagine about griffons in the entire span of our history.” Gehenna’s beak showed a contained grin. “And if there is one thing I have learned about griffons, it is that comforts, privilege and luxury are very good at mending a wounded heart.”

“This Lady Gwendolen sure sounds like something…” Cadance’s ears pulled back and she mumbled something probably better not said out loud.

“Lady Gwendolen is the very model of what a griffon noble ought to be.” The yellow griffoness even sat with her back straight and opened her wings, gesturing to herself and showing a little more than Twilight wanted to see. “I too am a model of a griffon noble. And Grinolf managed to make a liability of himself both as a servant to the crown and as a griffon. It’s his ancestors’ fault, and his burden to bear with dignity.”

How to respond? Twilight considered everything she had just said completely out of touch with anything she would consider fair. Or even connected to reality.

“Are you trying to become a villain, or something?” Cadance didn’t seem to have found it funny, despite what she said. Actually, she looked like she wanted to give the young griffoness a good spanking.

“Forgive Lady Gallensa’s behavior, princesses. But she is correct.” Gehenna said after one of Twilight’s crewponies brought her a new tea. “A competent, nation-wide leadership must mind the needs of the nation, of Griffonkind. Not so much those of the individuals. A healthy nation requires sacrifices, but it also provides opportunities for industrious individuals. It is up to griffons to make a life for themselves. And such is what Grinolf achieved. He earned recognition from Lady Gwendolen. He proved it is achievable by all griffons with unfortunate familiam backgrounds.”

“Are you aware that nations don’t suffer?” Cadance ground her teeth and glared at the old griffon lady. “It is individuals who suffer and may need help with their problems. Hopefully, the problems one has naturally… Such as food, health, education, housing… Not the ones created by a griffon lady with a god complex.”

“I think what Cadance is trying to say…” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Is that a good leader must ensure all their subjects have access to what they need. Before they can expect them to serve the greater good… Not that just enough of their subjects are healthy enough so the nation can function. Healthy, educated, and safe citizens make for an efficient workforce. I’m glad it worked for Grinolf, but I am sure there are many others suffering because of certain ideals that are not exactly paramount. If anything, this mentality creates wasted potential.”

At least it was what Celestia had taught Twilight. It seemed to work, as far as she knew.

Gehenna smiled, taking her new cup from the improvised table and showed a haughty smile. “I pity you, princess. Celestia has neglected your education as a future leader. You don’t understand sacrifices are often not yours, but that of your subjects. Whether they like it, or not. For the sake of a better future. To conquer the struggles of the present, parents often must sacrifice much for the sake of their children. Such as with war, famine, and other disasters of a less mundane nature. Roles change, and the ruler’s is to rule, to command, and demand if they must.”

“The struggles you mean,” Twilight thought Cadance let her voice raise a touch too much, but she agreed with the sentiment. “Came out of a crazy griffon lady who puts her ideals above griffons. Causing all sorts of pain and suffering along the way, while protecting your own privileges!”

The old griffon lady didn’t respond immediately and Gallensa simply blinked at Cadance’s words. Twilight herself might have worded it differently, but after Cadance had finished, she couldn’t reproach her. The old griffoness started laughing, though.

“Princess, failing to see the struggles which were necessary for the present luxuries is the quintessential example of what privilege is.” Gehenna’s mocking mirth made Twilight consider punching an old creature for the first time in her life. “Or do you believe Princess Celestia built the world you were born into out of friendship and rainbows?”

“Why, the very thing that the pony goddesses did, entire cycles of creation and destruction ago, was to destroy another’s perfect world.” Gehenna still laughed.

Gallensa chuckled too, while Twilight and Cadance listened and stared, still processing the old loremaster’s argument. “Why, Princesses. Have you never heard ‘a griffon’s trash is another’s treasure?’”

Cadance’s ears pulled back and her glare ceased to amuse. Twilight even worried she would do something she might regret. “Princess Celestia saved the world from your emperor!”

“You are confused, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.” The old griffoness matched Cadance’s stare. “That is not what I am talking about. Do you, perhaps, believe the mighty Battlehorns Celestia used to ‘free the world of the Griffon Scourge’ were found on trees?”

Cadance blinked. Twilight frowned. She should have figured it out sooner.

“That they sprouted out of the land, or perchance, the Princess harvested them off the Tree of Harmony?” Gehenna’s mirth turned to a maleficent smile. “In the present day the proclivities of genetics and of thaumatobiology allow for spontaneously powerful unicorns to raise from pedestrian families. But even their power is rooted in the foundation laid by the Battlehorn matriarchs. Their families were the product of countless strategic marriages and careful ‘pruning’ of misbehaving branches. All so they could produce consistently potent and talented combat spellcasters.”

“So…” Gallensa concluded for her. “If you are going to accuse Lady Gwendolen of protecting griffon bloodlines, you better be prepared to accuse your dear Princess Celestia too.”

Twilight didn’t react and her face showed no outward expression. But her thoughts caught on: context matters. The reason every situation ought to be dealt with the deserved exclusivity, even if all creatures should follow codified law. But she decided not to waste her time arguing about it with the two hens.

“Well, that is exactly what I intend!” Cadance cried and didn’t even surprise Twilight. Emotional, irrational. Plain angry, with her ears pulled back flat against her head and scowling. Even more hurt than angry, the other princess let her wings flare and stomped a hoof at the floor.

“I suppose your highness is also willing to let go of your privileges as part of a reparation effort?” Gehenna returned to a stoic demeanor, holding her cup with both paws, and showing a blank, disinterested expression.

“I am going to make Princess Celestia answer for anything she might have done in the wrong. As much as I am going to make this Lady Gwendolen of yours pay for the damage she has done to griffons!” Cadance cried again.

Twilight sighed. It seemed Cadance forgot a bit of Kirin wisdom which preached that one should not argue when angry. But it hurt that she agreed with Cadance, even if things just weren’t as simple as punishing someone. Especially since Twilight herself and her friends, Cadance included, were part of the whole mess which caused whoever knew how many lives to end last night. Everything they did, as much as Celestia had done in the past, had purpose. And that mattered. But it was not the time to remind Cadance of such.

“Princess! Sorry t’bother. Our scouts!” The pegasus in the crow's nest called from the top of the mast and pointed his hoof eastbound. One of their scouts flew towards them and yet another followed close.

Twilight silently thanked them for ending the conversation before horns and talons started flashing.

***

Discord felt the cold of morning in The Lion’s mansion. It sat at the top of a mountain, in the coldest place of the world outside of the lands the Windigos had claimed for themselves. But the multiple fireplaces and thick stone walls made it comfortable enough.

However, he didn’t go there to study the region’s climate. He meant to endear the griffons to him and help Celestia reach them. To learn about Lady Gwendolen and understand her relationship with the griffons. Preferably, he would like to help Lord Gilad keep his goddess mate from getting herself and Celestia killed. Ideally, saving the world from ending into a magical singularity. And he wanted to see if the southerner griffon Lady Gwendolen had ordered imprisoned in her tower was alright.

Fortunately, all those objectives worked together, and he felt he advanced them as he waited for the right opportunity.

He watched the griffon maids who worked at the mansion. He watched Lady Gwendolen scolding them for doing something wrong, and he saw her rewarding them for jobs well done. She seemed to have gotten comfortable with him being around during his short time there, and he watched her being the matron of the mansion. She left the military matters to Lord Gilad and happily minded the mansion’s workings, concerning herself with matters of the city and griffons who inhabited it.

He wondered if such a dynamic took her to a safe place, something similar to her life during the Empire.

She flirted with Gilad and didn’t seem to notice her mate and Discord had made plans behind her back. Or maybe she didn’t mind. With the way her head seemed to work, it wouldn’t be surprising if she thoroughly understood Gilad and Discord meant to keep her from fighting Celestia. Maybe she found it endearing. Maybe she simply never noticed. Figuring out her thoughts and motivations at any given moment proved difficult.

One thing Discord did learn, though. Going straight at her led to failure. He ought to explore her subordinates, and he had planned exactly for that.

The room shouldn’t be called a classroom, but a fancy meeting room with a classroom complex. Classrooms had simple desks. The room had large desks. Truly spacious and luxurious working tables behind which the young griffonesses sat and stared at him. Each desk had a candelabra, a collection of books, several sheets of quality paper, and ink. Even the thing he had seen Celestia using to fixate the ink in the paper and remove the excess. He wondered if their feather pens came from griffon wings.

Walls of stone and mortar held tall windows showing the mountain range behind The Roost and the perpetually stormy sky. Wind shook them and whistled, but the room held a comfortable temperature thanks to a small fireplace and double glass sheets. An iron candelabra hung from the wooden ceiling and held several candles for a comfortable reading light.

He sat at the rear row and tried to ignore the young griffonesses staring at him with confused frowns as their teacher entered the room. To his frustration, it wasn’t Lady Gwendolen, but one of her Loremasters, the tan and yellow one with the delicate drawings of flowers on her foreleg called Gervina.

“Girls, I’m sorry I’m late, please don’t tell Lady Gwendolen!” She pushed the heavy door closed before she turned to her audience. “She asked me to talk to you about those techniques…”

She stopped talking when her amber eyes found Discord at the deep end of the room. “Uh… You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I want to learn!” Discord opened his arms with a huge grin.

“Seriously, get out.” She pointed a thumb to the door and scowled.

“Lady Gwendolen wants me to learn about griffons so I will side with her and give her the key to creatures’ minds.” He pouted angrily and crossed his arms. “So, I’m staying.”

“I need to talk to these girls about stuff you can’t hear…” The griffoness in front of the class beat her wings with frustration and held her nares in her fingers. “Look, this is awkward… You’re a guy… And we’re ladies… Do you really want to listen to griffon ‘girl stuff’?”

What in the world did Lady Gwendolen want her to teach those griffonesses? Whatever, it didn’t matter. His plan was working.

“If they have to learn,” Discord didn’t relent, instead he spoke with the most resolute of tones. “Then it’s important and I need to know!”

“Listen!” The decorated griffoness ruffled her feathers. “Lady Gwendolen is gonna be pissed at me if I don’t give them this lecture, and I can’t do it with you here! I’m already late! Get out.”

He kept his arms crossed and raised his snout.

“Aw, come on!” Gervina cried. “Please?”

Discord didn’t move and the griffoness sighed, letting her wings sag. “What do I have to do to get rid of you?”

“Well…” Discord pulled at his beard with an innocent stare at the clear planks on the ceiling. “I really want to see what is inside Lady Gwendolen’s tower, to meet the southerner prisoner… But since I can’t, I must stay here.”

She growled and walked to a closet in the corner. Pulled a drawer, fiddled with something Discord couldn’t see and produced a black key from inside. “Here! The key to the tower. Now, get lost!”

Wow. She didn’t even try to bargain. Discord grinned and ran up to her to grab the key. She spoke again. “Just don’t tell her I gave you this thing!”

“Don’t worry, Gervina.” He saluted. “And thanks a lot.”

Finally, he left her rushing out the doors which opened and closed on their own for him. Standing on the corridor outside, he held the key up and grinned triumphantly, but flinched when he heard the clinking of armor approaching. So, he swallowed the key in one dry gulp.

Two griffons walked into the corridor. They wore the black and golden cuirass armor of the city, with the red scarves of the Court of The Harpy. Large griffons in their typical metallic colors and serious stares. On their backs, they carried halberds over the complementing red capes.

“Hey guys, looking strong.” Discord grinned and gave them a thumb up. The two stopped, slightly confused, but the one on the right smiled and thanked him before they went on in their patrol.

With them gone, a short and uneventful walk, took him back to the door into Gwendolen’s mysterious tower. One of the younger loremasters guarded it. A blue and cyan griffon lady, very young but wearing the same blue cape with the iron chain Loremaster Gehenna wore. She kept a stoic and patient expression, waiting for her ‘shift’ to be over, until she saw Discord.

“Hi!” He approached her with a friendly grin and a wave of his griffon paw.

“Hello.” She gave him a pleasant smile. “Can I help you, Lord of Chaos?”

“No, I’m fine.” He showed her the key. Truth be told, she grimaced when he shoved his griffon paw down his throat and pulled out the key, but she dealt well enough with it. “Excuse me.”

“Aaah…” She fluttered her wings nervously. “No… I’m pretty sure Lady Gwendolen doesn’t want anyone in there who isn’t her or the head maid.”

“Come now…” Discord gave her a winning smile. “We both know I am not ‘anyone’.”

“Well… True…” She lifted a paw off the floor, as insecurely as was her sideways glance. “But… Uh…”

“Would I have this,” he waved the saliva-covered key in front of her and grinned even more. “If I couldn’t get in? Do you want to get in trouble with Lady Gervina? She gave me her key, and I will have to talk to her if I can’t get in. I mean… I would hate for this to make its way all the way to Lady Gwendolen…”

“Okay… Hum… Okay. Fine.” She tip-tapped nervously on the floor. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Alrighty then.” He unlocked the door and went in. “Toodles.”

Closing the door, and being careful to lock it, he left the key in the lock. It would be a problem if anyone tried to open the door, but that was the idea. He could simply say he forgot the key in there.

He tapped his head with a talon. Big brain moment.

He found himself in a pleasant resting room. It had a chaise lounge made of black varnished wood and red, velvety upholstery. A beautiful and colorful green and golden rug. Too colorful and definitively not made of animal pelt, but vegetal fibers. Completely disparate from anything Northerner, it may have come from Saddle Arabia, judging by the decorative motifs. The room also had a drawing stand, comfortable sitting pillows, a small bar, and a candelabra hanging from the ceiling with several candles. Finally, some drawings in pencil rested on the stand and several paintings hung from the wall. Mostly desert landscapes, a city among the dunes with a set of black pyramids, snow covered mountains and a giant city, carved out of a mountain under a gray sky.

He picked up the high grammage, top quality paper sheets and the one on top had a very detailed anatomical drawing. The sort Discord was used to see at Canterlot University, showing the muscles underneath the skin of a male griffon, complete with naughty details of the naughty bits. A little too many details, for Discord’s taste.

He put the paper on the back and looked at the next drawing. It was similarly complex. Creepy in how detailed it was. A drawing of the entire block of the organs inside a griffon, with dangling bits of connective tissue. The uncanny level of detail initially upset Discord, but he supposed it was reasonable… If she was The Harpy and she did create the griffons. She could seriously earn some money as an artist, though.

The next sheet had a portrait of a male griffon. He seemed very stern, with a cutting scar next to the right side of his beak. The following had a very pretty hen... Or ‘queen’, he supposed. She had a shorter beak, but the same stern expression, even if her beak seemed smaller and cuter on her fierce visage.

Discord hummed, as there were more drawings in the pile. Interesting, but he ought to find the prisoner. He left the drawings where he found them, putting them back in the right order, and looked around. A small window to the outside, closed with glass remained to be examined, and it showed the peaks behind the city. A staircase by the entrance led upstairs, circling the outer wall of the tower. He took it.

On the floor above Discord found… Oh boy…

A laboratory, or something grimmer. In the center sat a table with thick leather straps. A small table next to it had several neatly organized surgical instruments. For some reason, the clinical cleanliness made it all worse. Large tanks made of glass had organs Discord couldn’t ever identify if he tried. And ‘things’ which looked like dissected equine legs, with green tissues and exposed joints floated in a strong-smelling clear liquid.

Discord’s mouth pursed as he scanned the room and found drawings hanging from the walls. They showed a changeling laying on their back and clear indications of where tools went to hold the cuts open. Written indications of different structures in the striking written form of High Griffonese. He had thought the drawings in the other room freaked him out... The clinical perfection belonged in one of those anatomy atlases and the drawn recreation of damaged tissues was even worse. Down to torn muscle fibers and broken carapaces in external drawings of changelings. Detailed drawings of how their horns connected to the brain and dissections of the organs themselves.

He hurried back to the stairs and ran up before he lost his cool. What he saw there should have shocked him, but instead it just made his expression blank as he let out a sigh. The room had cages, another table with straps. Straps on the walls. Hanging from the ceiling. And racks with all sorts of ‘painful persuasion’ tools. Black wood closets Discord didn’t want to know what was inside and a stand with paper and writing tools. Other than a fireplace and different pokers, there was nothing else in the room. So, he went up the stairs again and the floor above contained a library.

A desk occupied the center of the stony room, next to a table with tools for making books. No books on the table, but countless filled the cases lining the walls. A large candelabra provided good reading illumination, despite the lack of windows. But other than being a nice one, it was only a library. No prisoners, Discord moved on.

Magic radiating from someone nearby alerted Discord he wasn’t alone. It could only be one other than him in there, if not the prisoner. He grimaced and tip-toed slowly his way up the stairs until he looked past the edge of the stone wall. He saw an entirely closed and round room, with the only entrance being the door by the stairs which continued their spiral around the tower. He hid behind the opening.

Lady Gwendolen sat at the edge of a pool with her dark back to him. The pool, on a second glance, looked like a water mirror, considering it must be shallow. Maybe a magical scrying pool, since powerful but almost disorderly magic radiated from it like a breeze. Thin iron stands with once melted white wax sticking to it held thick candles surrounding the room and provided a dim, calming light.

He should’ve been prudent and moved on, to maybe try to reach the prisoner he wanted to see, but curiosity got the better of him. If he could feel her presence, she should feel his, unless whatever she was doing required she focused on it. Being the case, it must be important.

A very subtle magic, other than the one from the pool, hung in the air and in Discord’s magical senses, it was tinged with petrichor. Subtle, yet mighty, almost overbearing. Her open wings, mostly black as seen from behind, spread her feathers out and small, barely perceptible, flashes illuminated them occasionally. Discord might be wrong, but he swore he could hear little cracks of lightning magic.

He watched her for some time, and her head would jerk sporadically, as she saw something in there. Eventually she grabbed something in the water with her talons. A shiny little grain she deposited into a small and bulbous crystal vial. She took it before her eyes and examined it critically, but she looked tired, with her black crest bent forward and squinty gray eyes. As the glow faded, something settled at the bottom of the vial, but Discord couldn’t make out what. She then closed it with a proper, fancy crystal cork and put it with others on a small table by her side.

After repeating the process a dozen times more, as Discord’s frustration and curiosity almost steamed out of his ears, she finally stopped. The magic floating in the air evanesced slowly after she closed her wings and only the ‘breeze’ from the pool remained. Gwendolen took one of the small crystal vials and examined it for a few seconds with a small, warm smile, and then returned it to the table with the others. Finally, she yawned and shook the sleepiness out of her head.

Almost as he could predict, she turned to the entrance. He hid before she had a chance of seeing him and hastened away downstairs in time, covering his muzzle with his paws as much as he tried to hide, lowering himself.

Maybe a silly reaction, he thought so himself. But knowing how Magic worked, the very acts would help him hide from her. And as minutes passed, she never came down. It certainly helped that she was tired. The pool and its magical emissions may have masked his presence. Whatever the explanation, he was happy she didn’t seem to notice him.

He slowly tip-toed back to the vacant room and walked inside, bending his long body to look around corners and be sure she wasn’t in there, somewhere. He couldn’t feel her magical presence anymore, but one never knew.

Satisfied, he approached the pool, craning his neck over it. It was a water mirror. A serene surface of clear water reflecting his curious expression and the flat wood ceiling back to him. Certainly magical too, but its magical emissions had quieted, even if traces of energy remained. She had just used it for some strange form of necromancy he didn’t know.

Technically, he didn’t know any formal studies of magic. They were too boring for him to bother, but he knew the different applications of magic. Only the specifics escaped him.

The glint of candlelight on the small crystal vials drew his eyes and he picked one among the two dozen or so present. It reminded him of a flask for perfume, with a very narrow neck, and a fancy crystal cork made easy to remove. Inside it contained no liquid, but a tiny griffon. A blue and white one, curled around herself and sleeping.

He blinked and thought for a second before he squirmed and almost dropped the little vial. His voice came as a hushed, but squeaky cry. “Sacrebleu! It’s a soul!”

He avoided dropping, or even shaking it, holding the vial in his palms as though it would break if he so much as breathed too much. It took an eternity for him to finally hold the vial by the delicate neck and place it back with the others.

“What in Tartarus? What is she gonna do with them?” He whispered under his voice as though he feared she would listen. Bolder, he took another of the vials as smoothly and softly as his lion’s paw would work and took it to eye level. Another tiny sleeping griffon curled around himself. A delicate green little thing, but different from the other, his paws were covered in a golden glove, like he had dipped his forepaws in golden paint.

“Well, that is something.” Discord changed it for another two and they all seemed to contain sleeping teeny griffons. He still handled them with the utmost care but changed them for two others again. Each had a sleeping griffon, some of them with the ‘golden gloves’.

“Put them down.” He shivered when her voice came from the stairs, and he felt like a foal raiding the cookie jar. Perhaps an analogy not involving food would be better because her tone was closer to the murderous rather than playful. “Your magic might be disruptive to them at this stage.”

Her ruffled plumage, making her crown of black feathers even larger, told him enough as he moved slowly. “Sorry…I didn’t mean…”

“Put them down!” She repeated, louder. A hurricane of magic washed over him, not physical, but only apparent to his magical senses.

Unsettling, as he was used to physical signs of magical mobilization, such as shimmering and chiming horns. But he didn’t have time to analyze it. He just put the vials back and took a couple of steps back.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Or them!” He put up his paws. “I just… Uh…”

What was he going to tell her? That he didn’t want to disturb her weird experiment, or her little griffon souls in jars, while he was intruding on her private tower? He just blinked and his mouth bent downward as he strummed his claws and talons together. “I uh… I mean… Hum…”

She had sat by the entrance, holding a steaming mug, and kept staring at him with a blank expression, despite her tense body language. But she relaxed as he tried to explain himself and kept trying with no success. She didn’t smile, as Celestia would whenever she caught Discord doing something he shouldn’t. She kept a stern glare as she stood and approached.

“These griffons passed away recently.” She told him, putting herself between him and the small table with the vials. “Griffonstone saw a skirmish between My Children and the Chancellor’s supporters. I still do not know all the details. But griffons on both sides perished and I must watch over them.”

“I don’t understand…” He relaxed a bit too. “Dead creatures… Uh, their souls are supposed to return to the source. To the Pool of Souls, in the Sun. Before they can be born again.”

“My Children, all of them, are not ‘creatures’.” The scowl on her eyes and the growl in her throat almost scared him. “They are griffons. And I care not for whatever system Sol-Estia has put in place. They are not animals as she is! They are supposed to rest at the Stormy Eyrie. With their ancestors, and with me!”

“Okay! Okay…” He put forward his paws defensively again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just… I’m used to thinking souls just go there when they leave their bodies behind, and that it’s all part of how things are supposed to work.”

She calmed and returned to her usual haughty posture. He still talked, with a frown. “The Windigos are there now, aren’t they?”

“The Stormy Eyrie exists both in the realm of the living and that of the dead. The boundaries between worlds are thin in the Whitescape. Truthfully, the distinction was not even supposed to be significant.” Gwendolen scowled. “Passage to the Stormy Eyrie used to be instantaneous, and the living could visit it freely. Now the Windigos haunt the region and the sprawling hills and mountains became a dead desert of snow and ice. The husks of great griffon cities still remain, taken by undead abominations and My Children must pass their lands to reach their resting place! All because the accursed ponies couldn’t keep from quarreling!”

She flared her wings and showed her talons as her voice raised more and more. “All it took was one feather-worth of free-will and not only they turned on themselves, but they managed to destroy one fifth of the world! I could not do it if I wanted!”

She took in a breath. “My Children will not even remember me! Much less the customs I have taught them! All because Sol-Estia didn’t understand individuality. Because that accursed creature took over the world for herself and made it into a childish joke of what it was!”

“Well… Uh…” Discord took a step back. “I suppose you’ll have to understand not all of them will be willing to live in this place. It’s dangerous and cold.”

“Grah!” She screeched and threw up her paws. “Griffonstone is dangerous! It has immoral politicians stealing their resources and vile bandits who will rob what remained and kill them for sport!”

She glared at him and trained her talons at his neck, standing on her hindlegs and letting her wings flare. “If you would give me the key to the Throne of Life, I could fix everything! But instead, you are intruding in my private quarters!”

Suddenly, as Discord put out his paws defensively and took another step back, she cried and turned to the little flasks on the table with calming gestures. “Shh… Shh… Little ones. Go back to sleep. Mommy is not angry with you… It is all right.”

Discord let his arms hang and stared at her while she soothed the little flasks which seemed to produce no reaction whatsoever. “Is it gonna be okay?”

She sighed, turning to him. “I apologize. I am tired and perturbed. I need to rest. I… I have hurt a friend. Someone who looks up to me… I didn’t trust her, and I hurt her unfairly.”

“Well…” He crossed his arms. “You should apologize. If she’s your friend, and you had reason to be worried, she’d understand.”

She chuckled. “It sounds so easy.”

“Heh… It is, and at the same time isn’t.” He shrugged and smiled. “But I suppose everyone deserves a second chance when they do something bad. I mean… It took me a while to learn that, but it seems to work.”

“I suppose you are correct.” She stared at the floor for a couple of seconds before she turned back to him. “What did you want?”

“I’m… Worried about the soldier guy.” Discord pointed up to the ceiling. “The prisoner you have in this tower of yours. I’d like to talk to him.”

She shook her head apologetically. “I cannot allow it. He is not ready yet. He is disoriented and confused. It would hurt him. First, he must accept his new situation. Understand he must stay for his own good and of his kind, not to bargain for the lives of his fellow soldiers.”

“I see.” He pulled at his beard. “Did he agree to staying here if you let the other soldiers go? Or something?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I promised I would let his comrades go back to the South if he stayed and cooperated. He was scared, but his sense of loyalty and duty prevailed. Only, misguided.”

“This is not very encouraging.” Discord sighed. “I feel like you’re gonna force-feed him caribou and rich wine while preaching that ponies are evil.”

“He is extremely important.” She hardened her stare. “I will take no chances which may lead him to try to escape or even hurt himself in one such attempt. He is the only living specimen of his purity from the Haderani line. He is his kind’s only hope of remaking the proud lords of the desert. He is immature and his emotional development was stunted in the South’s improper culture, but I can fix it.”

“What exactly do you plan on doing with him?” Discord gave her a distrustful stare and held his hip.

“He will be my courtier.” She ignored his accusative stare. “He will be given all the peace and security to practice his craft of choice. He will thrive and be happy, unlike his unfortunate life in the South. He will share my good food and the comforts of my hearth. He will have his choice of beautiful and suitable queens, yes. And I expect him to produce valuable offspring to whom he may or may not care for.”

“I know it is ‘icky’ to the pony-loving culture you have endeared yourself with,” she made mocking gestures of disgust with her fingers. “But some things are due to some griffons. His circumstances are as valid as any wealth any southerner politician would have to throw at the ignorant masses. Even in the south, queens may choose a sire and not ever meet with them again.”

“I can guarantee… I am much more interested in his welfare than you are, and not necessarily because of his seed.”

“Speaking like that really puts a warm towel on my worries…” He groaned sarcastically.

“I do not remember requiring your acceptance, and last I remember, you are invading my privacy.” She put out her paw. “Give me the key.”

“It’s on the door.” He shrugged with a malcontent frown but was still curious and turned to the table. “What will you do with the tiny griffon souls over there?”

She looked at them, and then back to Discord. “I will send them on their way to the Stormy Eyrie.”

“But… What about the Windigos?” Discord pointed at the vials. “Are you just going to drop them there?”

“They have spent their whole lives preparing for this final journey. It is partially why the northerners became as they are. Griffons are meant to be intelligent, mentally, and physically strong. They are supposed to learn how to survive on their own and in groups. They are supposed to assist each other in times of need. They are supposed to compete and to be graceful both in victory and in defeat.” She raised her paw for him to stop as he prepared to talk back to her. “Blame Sol-Estia. She is the one who forwent the rites of the Alicorn Cult. She is the one who abandoned souls to the flux of magical energies. Without me, the apostate griffons of the south would be abandoned. I will not have My Children scattered to a flux of magical energies as purposeless, irrational creatures.”

“This is a very, very… Very! Outrageously disingenuous way of putting it.” Discord opened his arms. “No creature is ‘abandoned’. That is simply what they are supposed to do when they die. And Celestia dismantled the Cult of the Goddesses because she saw it caused more trouble than it was worth. And I can guarantee, she was right. This whole mess might have been avoided if the Unicorn Kings didn’t believe themselves so high and mighty!”

Gwendolen showed a knowing smile. “Then I suggest you leave and go ask griffons what it is they prefer. That they live their entire lives to end it all with an often untimely death and a deep slumber which destroys all they are. Or to spend an afterlife with their ancestors and friends. Feasting and recalling their great deeds until they are ready to rest and eventually return to the land of the living. A never-ending personal tale of greatness. A tribute to their proud race and my wonderful creation.”

She took one of the vials and held it to stare at the tiny sleeping griffon with his paws covered in gold. “Even the ones who failed miserably to prepare will sooner blame the hoof-licking culture of the south. They will sooner test their meek might against the monstrous spawn of the Windigos. Their northerner brethren will sooner drag them across the Whitescape than allow them to be lost to the whims of the Windigos or Celestia’s neglect.”

“They will despair and complain, but they will still choose to refuse to cease.” She set the vial back on the table and stared at them as she spoke. “This is the difference between My Children and the Children of The Sun. They have true free-will. They understand the power of their individuality, and they will fight to keep it. Even the ones who failed, will sooner become a slave to the Windigos than allow themselves wash away if it gives them another chance.”

“What do you mean?” Discord slumped. “Aren’t the souls the Windigos claim lost?”

“Stop asking me questions, if you cannot trust me.” She pointed at the stairs. “Go ask Gilad. Go ask the hunters who leave the safety of the city and provide it with food. Ask the farmers. Ask the commoners. Ask the monster hunters and the heads of noble families. Ask them what the point of all this is.”

“Now leave. I am busy and you cannot see Geordi.” She scowled at him. “I will tell him to see you when he is ready, but no sooner.”

Comments

[new55]

That was a good chapter goodluck with the next one.

[Metemponychosis]

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Thanks!