Chapter 5
Minutes passed after the train came to a stop. Twilight had been holding her breath since that moment, praying that Pinkie and Rainbow would too. She could hear and feel the thunderous steps of the griffons that moved around the crates, though they seemed unaware that there were stowaways aboard. She didn’t know if they’d physically inspect all the crates; she hoped and prayed they wouldn’t.
Greta had provided buckwheat to mask their scent—something that she learned from studying was a delightful smell to griffons. Under normal circumstances, she’d figure the griffons would ignore them. But she had also learned that griffons were greedy creatures. What was stopping them from taking a peek, expecting to nab some grain, and, to their surprise, find the escapees? The word must have been out by now!
Her crate started to move, anxiety welling up in her again. She’d expect Pinkie to make a noise, but, to her surprise, hadn’t heard anything yet.
All she heard was what was definitely laughter. Laughter. Maybe they had already figured out where they were and were stringing them along!
Almost as soon as Twilight’s crate had been lifted up, she was set down. Suddenly, the top of the crate seemed to jerk open—just enough—and her heart filled with dread.
They were caught. It was over.
Through it peeked what she supposed was a young griffon. His feathers were much more fresh than most of those she had seen, his features a lot less jagged at the edge. He looked at her, kept silent, and winked.
Winked?
Twilight was left dumbfounded. She tried to find words adequate enough to explain how lost that simple gesture left her, but, before she could, the lid of her crate was sealed again. This time without the nails that had boxed her inside.
Relief washed over her like the rushing waters of a great river. This was the griffon that Greta had mentioned. That meant that they were headed straight to Griffonstone.
There were a few moments of still silence. Then, she lurched forward on a much more bumpy trail. All she could hear was the spinning of old wheels on stone and dirt.
Twilight commanded herself to relax and breathe normally. It’d take a bit more travel, but they were on the right way home. This entire nightmare was almost over.
‘It’s safe to talk,’ the griffon said. ‘This is a long track of road with no listening ears!’
Twilight hadn’t noticed she had dozed off. For how long, she couldn’t tell. Still, she needed to stay awake despite how tired she was. She silently chastised herself, despite what she would have otherwise considered a rude awakening.
Surely this griffon wasn’t serious? Anycreature could be listening. Even if they weren’t, she was certainly in no mood to chat. Considering that neither Pinkie or Rainbow had spoken to him, it was a safe assumption that they weren’t either.
‘The name is Grisha,’ the griffon added after a moment. ‘I must apologize for my brothers’ actions… This is all truly terrible.’
Silence.
‘Do you ponies not speak Ponish?’ Grisha asked.
‘We do. We just don’t talk to griffons—’ Rainbow growled.
‘Rainbow! Don’t say that!’ Twilight chided.
‘Well, she’s got a right to be upset. What little good we’ve done in the midst of so much terrible… ness?’ Grisha paused. ‘This is a word?’
‘Y-yeah, it is,’ Twilight responded, still skeptical as to why this strange griffon wanted to talk.
‘Excellent! It has been far too long since I’ve spoken Ponish. The Politburo generally does not allow for this to be spoken. They prefer—oh, what is the term?— griffonification!’
‘Griffonification?’ Twilight blinked. ‘Like, enforcing Griffish as a language?’
‘The Politburo is worried that our fellow griffons are being corrupted by the influences of Equestria. They seek to correct this by forcing all creatures that inhabit our lands to speak only Griffish. Truly a terrible thing! You see, Ponish is one of the most beautiful languages! A vast wealth of songs and writing! Should we all forsake this just to maintain a dead national identity?’
‘Songs? Books? Why would you care for that?’ Rainbow snorted. ’You’re a griffon!’
‘Aha, so you would say! But we do have a librarian back in Griffonstone, and we do keep records, though not as complete as they used to be… At least not since our royal dynasty failed.’
‘Die nasty?’ Pinkie scratched her chin. ‘That sounds terrible!’
‘So it was,’ Grisha agreed. ‘After the armisapi stole the Boreas, our nation had been doomed to cycle in violence. All until—’ he gestured around the scene— ‘this happened.’
‘Well, we know that the griffons lost the Boreas! Gruff told us how that led to the Empire’s collapse,’ Rainbow responded.
‘Ha! If only it were as simple as that old story! Power and legitimacy were certainly tied to the Boreas, but does rule depend on the existence of an object of supposed power?’
‘We live in a world of magic,’ Twilight stated.
‘Yes, yes! But does magic make the creature? Or does the creature make the magic?’
‘Silly griffon! It’s—well…’ Pinkie paused. ‘Hey, that’s not a fair question!’
‘The creature makes the magic—if we’re not talking about supernatural phenomena, that is. But the magic enables the creature. If it weren’t for unicorn magic, we’d be at the mercy of… of creatures like you.’ After a moment, Twilight realized fully the implications of what she had said.
There was a long history between the griffons and the ponies that was rarely discussed. For Equestria, it was an ugly mark on their history. Long before the unicorns met the pegasi and the Earth ponies, the latter two tribes were controlled by the Griffon Empire. They were said to have been “serfs in the fields, servants in the courts,” of Gryphoniya. It wasn’t until the unicorns arrived and helped their pony brothers and sisters break the iron chains of slavery that they became fully independent.
Since then, tensions between Equestria and the former Griffon Empire were always high… Even now, years after the collapse of the Griffon Empire, Equestrian-Griffon relations were sour.
‘Now, let us take this and put it in another way,’ Grisha broke the silence again ‘Let us replace the word “magic” with the word “identity.” You see how murky the water becomes? For what is a creature if it has no identity—much less a nation? So, tell me, is it the identity that makes the creature, or the creature the identity?’
‘I don’t get it…’ Pinkie admitted.
‘Griffons are griffons. Ponies are ponies.’ Rainbow grunted. ‘I don’t see how that is relevant!’
‘And what are griffons? What are ponies?’ Grisha asked.
‘Ponies come from a place of unity and friendship. We’re a peaceful and charitable race. Our nation was founded on dependent co-existence. Griffons had a mighty empire that failed because of their own greed—’ Twilight paused. ‘No offence.’
‘None taken! But this is identity, is it not? You know griffons as ruthless and cruel creatures— and we are not doing ourselves any favours with this whole debacle—but I see ponies as careless.’
‘Careless? Careless! We trusted one of your kind, and this is how we are repaid?’ Rainbow nearly shouted.
‘Ah, but why did you trust “one of our kind?”’
‘He…’ Rainbow paused. ‘Well, he approached us smiling! Bought us a drink! Everything looked friendly!’
‘You trusted a smile,’ Grisha said smugly. ‘Careless!’
‘I didn’t!’ Pinkie objected.
‘But what did you do? Had you done anything, you might’ve avoided this whole nightmare! But I guess you took no initiative. Careless!’
‘What does this have to do with anything?’ Twilight asked.
‘It is a history that perhaps isn’t spoken of much, but it’s a history that proves these points of a griffon’s greed and a pony’s carelessness.’
‘We don’t need a lecture, pal! Besides, what do you know? You’re younger than us!’ Rainbow exclaimed.
‘Youth isn’t foolishness, just as age isn’t wisdom. Experience—this is the only way to know ’ Grisha said.
‘Yeah? And what do you know, eaglet?’
‘I know that I know nothing.’
‘Exactly! So just shut up!’
That statement just then. Those words? Twilight had heard them before. ‘Grisha, where did you hear that?’
‘I read it from… Starswirl, I believe?’
‘Conversations of Starswirl the Bearded? That’s an incredibly rare book! We only have a few in the Royal Canterlot Libraries, and we can’t even take them home. Where did you read that book?’
‘In Griffonstone, in our library.’
‘You’re joking!’ Twilight couldn’t believe it. It had to have been impossible for some griffon to have happened upon one of the influential books written by one of the greatest pony philosophers of ancient times! Grisha must have heard it quoted by somecreature else.
‘No, no! I did. It was something my father had taken, which I decided to read. Many of the books in our library are dusty things in foreign languages: Ponish, Hippogriffian, Yakish. Sure, I was not one to read much when I was young, but there came a time where it… Well, where it helped me to stop thinking about this. So no, I know nothing —save that I know nothing— and all I have to live by is what I have lived through before.’
‘Has it really been that bad?’
‘The War of Feathers ended messily, but the Civil War that followed has yet to end. It has been terrible… This is what we are left with.’
‘Two wars?’
‘The first was our last Emperor’s quest to restore glory. He claimed that, though we may have been a hundred years removed from the object of power, the power the griffons had was through conquest. We saw the ponies and the hippogriffs. Saw the vast territories they controlled and the wealth they possessed. And, so, we set to war…’
‘Yeah, I remember hearing about this! You got your butts kicked!’ Rainbow finished curtly.
‘Rainbow—’ Twilight began.
‘No, she is right! We could never get beyond the border cities. Our occupation was horrible. We figured the fear we’d strike would be enough! Ah, but partisans have nothing to fear and everything to lose, so we experienced defeat after defeat. Griffon soldiers committed treason, mutinies became commonplace, but this was not all.
‘Back home, food was in short supply. We starved, left to battle for the scraps that fell from the Emperor’s table. Eventually, we looked up with eyes as greedy as ever, and demanded for the first time in our history—change. We petitioned for the war to end. We wanted to see change. We wanted to have a life free from serfdom…’
Grisha paused. The Griffon that seemed to have no end of words was brought to a sudden, unexpected silence. Twilight waited impatiently for him to continue, to tell her about a history she hadn’t learned in the books back in Equestria. But when he failed to speak, she could feel an odd sense of despair.
‘Oh, come on! Don’t get soft now! You’re a griffon!’ Rainbow tried to tease.
‘Rainbow!’ Twilight chastised.
‘Do you...’ Twilight heard the crack in Grisha’s voice. ‘Do you, uh, are you thirsty? There is a river up here.’
‘Please! I’m dying of thirst!’ Rainbow seconded.
Twilight understood why the young griffon suggested they drink water. It had been a long time since any of them had anything to drink. She nodded, though she knew that Grisha didn’t see it. She said softly, ‘I’d like that, Grisha.’
Twilight and her friends had been let out of their crates under the trees that Grisha thought would provide ample coverage from prying eyes above. He expected them to stay behind the cart, so that any passerby from the trail wouldn’t incidentally spot them. Twilight was grateful for the opportunity to stretch by the stream, since she hadn’t had much opportunity to stand on her own.
Pinkie was splashing around in the water, sending little ripples that travelled downstream. Rainbow stretched all but her wings, lounging under a particularly shady tree. Off in the distance sat Grisha, who kept his arms folded and his eyes on the trail.
Twilight had only taken a precursory glance of the griffon when he first picked them up; she hadn’t realized how big he was. Even though he was considerably younger than any of the ponies he was supposed to rescue, Grisha was still at least a head taller than them. Still, his face was young. There were no scars or scratches that she’d come to associate with the characteristics of a griffon.
Nor was his expression as hard as she’d imagine it would be. Grisha looked troubled, to say the least.
Finally, after a few minutes by the stream, Twilight felt the need to approach Grisha. Pinkie turned and looked at Twilight, before she glanced at Grisha. Pinkie was the first to trot toward the griffon, followed by Twilight.
‘Grisha,’ Twilight said, then paused. She didn’t know what to ask. But now that his eyes were on her, she couldn’t just back out.
‘Yeah?’ he asked, waiting for her to continue.
‘Can we stay here for the night?’ Pinkie asked excitedly. ‘This is a really nice place! We can build a fire, and roast marshmallows, and—’
‘Marsh… Mellows?’ Grisha blinked a few times, confused.
Pinkie gasped. ‘You don’t know what marshmallows are?’
Twilight facehoofed.
‘No.’ Grisha sighed. ‘No, I don’t. But we can’t stay the night. We should get moving.’
‘Aw.’ Pinkie looked down.
‘Grisha’s right. We should get moving.’ Twilight nodded. ‘I guess that means back in the crates?’
‘Unless you want to be seen,’ Grisha replied. ‘Back into the crates.’
‘Can’t we stay here a little while longer?’ Rainbow complained. ‘I just got in the perfect place to nap!’
‘We need to move, Rainbow. You can nap on the way there,’ Twilight responded.
‘But it’s so uncomfortable!’ Rainbow cried as she lifted up from her spot and dragged her hooves back to the cart.
Twilight hopped back onto the cart with Pinkie, followed by Rainbow as she crawled back into the crate that Greta had hidden her in. She laid down on the hard wood as Grisha placed the lid of the crate over her, covering her from sight once more. A few moments passed before the cart started to roll forward again, that same awkward silence punctuated by the noise of the cart bumping occasionally down the path.
Twilight finally considered her question, waiting for a moment, before she asked, ‘What happened then?’
‘What?’ Grisha asked.
‘You earned freedom, right?’
Grisha fell silent once more. That silence lasted longer than the last time, leading Twilight to believe that she may never hear the rest of the story.
At last, Grisha did speak, his tone more solemn than ever before.
‘The King ordered they open fire on his subjects. Hundreds were killed in the first strike. That’s when the Civil War started. The soldiers who committed the atrocity were sick to their stomach, and turned against their King. The Interim was established. It was a short coup, and it should’ve stopped there.’
‘But it didn’t?’
‘The Interims didn’t want the war to end. They saw an opportunity. Though we couldn’t fight, they were hoping to strike some legitimacy with you ponies and the hippogriffs. A peace deal.’
‘And that was it.’
‘If it were that simple, we wouldn’t be here today. No, Equestria’s response was this—’ Grisha paused. ‘As a poet of ours said best, “Like a culture of typhoid, the Equestrians sent the poison of Gedeon.”’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’re going to accuse us of this mess?’ Rainbow demanded.
‘I don’t accuse your Empress of doing this, but I will say what it was—careless.’
‘You should probably consider your sources, Grisha. Maybe—just maybe—what you’ve heard is some anti-Equestrian sentiment,’ Twilight warned. Her suspicion returned with what the young griffon suggested.
‘I wish I could say this, Your Highness, but… Gedeon—the Politburo—had been exiled to Equestria long before the start of the War of Feathers. He was a dangerous revolutionary, a traitor, and well… You’ve seen all that he’s done. So, how was he able to return?’
‘He could’ve just taken the train there,’ Twilight suggested.
‘But coming here with Equestrian tools and magic?’ Grisha countered.
‘He could’ve stolen that!’ Rainbow dismissed.
‘When the Interims failed to provide their promises, griffons were naturally lured away by the false hopes of Gedeon's Party.’
‘Party? What party? Everygriffon looks really sad or angry—that’s not a party!’ Pinkie pointed out.
‘Party as in politics, Pinkie,’ Twilight said.
‘Oooh… So party poopers.’
‘Yes, this is what could be said. “Party poopers.”’ Grisha agreed. ‘I wish it were different. If only the party made sense.’
‘A party?’ Twilight could practically see Pinkie bounce up and down. ‘I know a lot about parties! Well, not anything about griffon parties, but I know griffons have really delicious scones! What about a scone party?’
‘A party?’ Grisha paused. ‘I… I don’t think I’ve ever actually been at a party.’
‘What?’ Pinkie gasped. ‘This has to change! When we get back to Griffonstone, I’ll get everything in order!’
‘Ah, you would celebrate a party so early?’
‘We celebrate being alive all the time, right?’ Pinkie giggled. ‘I’d think that escaping some meanie griffons and getting home safe is a good reason to celebrate!’
‘Pinkie, we’re going straight to Equestria after this,’ Twilight responded. ‘That’s the plan, right?’
‘I don’t know.’ Grisha sighed. ‘As far as I’m concerned, I’m just getting you to Griffonstone.’
‘Well…’ Pinkie paused. ‘We can always invite Grish-Grish to Ponyville! We can throw a party there!’
‘Grish-Grish?’ Grisha muttered under his breath, amused. ‘Well, I wouldn’t object!’
‘Pinkie—’ Twilight tried to interrupt.
‘Twi! We have to! Greta could be there too! And Gilda! Ooh! There’s also this very nice grey mailgriffon! We can invite all of our griffon friends!’
Twilight was left without an answer. It was a sweet suggestion from her party-loving friend, and one that definitely seemed deserving of the griffons that were trying to overcome the evils they were accustomed to. However, after everything that Grisha had suggested, it didn’t seem as if he had a high opinion of ponies. On the other hoof… the young griffon seemed friendly enough—misinformed maybe—but friendly.
‘Woah! Hold on!’ Rainbow protested. ‘He just said that Princess Celestia would just ruin a peace settlement to get back at the griffons? And you want him to come to Equestria? What he just said sounds like a load of horsedung to me.’
Grisha sighed. ‘Perhaps it was pressure from the Hippogriffs. Perhaps it was a favour required of Gedeon. One will never be able to tell. I should not question the wisdom of your Monarch, for their reasons and designs are well above the simple matters that concern a commoner like me.’
‘Well, maybe you should look more into it, Grisha. I don’t think—’
‘Your Highness—’
‘Grisha, please, I’d like to say—’ Twilight retorted, determined to get a word in now.
‘Your Highness, now is not the time!’
Twilight couldn’t see anything beyond the small crack her crate offered her. There was something ahead—as was a flicker of light that came from a lamp or a torch. Considering the grave seriousness in Grisha’s voice, it was definitely a patrol.
That fear she hoped she had expunged at the start of this cart ride returned.
‘They aren’t supposed to be here! There wasn’t a checkpoint before!’ Grisha exclaimed.
‘Wh-what?’ Twilight said, failing to keep herself from stuttering.
‘Shoot! Now what?’ Rainbow asked.
‘If everything goes smoothly, nothing.’ Grisha’s voice became hollower with every step he took. ‘If it doesn’t, I will make a distraction. A big distraction. When that happens, you run as fast as you can westward. Don’t stop until you find Interims. The Politburo will be hunting you.’
‘B-but...’ Twilight tried to suppress her fear, doing everything to take command and respond rationally. ‘How do we know where to go? Who are we looking for?’ She paused. ‘You’ll be okay, right?’
Although she couldn’t see him, she imagined the griffon’s expression was stone serious. He knew he wasn’t going to make it out alive—and that they had little chance of surviving themselves. She was waiting for some reassurance— a promise—that everything would turn out okay.
But she knew those griffons at the checkpoint had slug-throwers. As soon as they were tired of playing cat and mouse, they would—
«Akh, tovarisch Grisha? Vy prishli v straniy chas!» one of the soldiers asked.
This language! This damn language! Twilight cursed to herself. Dread took hold. She wasn’t breathing. She couldn’t breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe! Her friends were here now. They needed to get out together—or, at the very least, get out alive.
How could she know if they were hidden enough? What if the buckwheat didn’t hide their scent enough? She was nearly caught with Greta!
Trust! She needed to trust… But a stranger? Some young griffon that accused her ponies of starting this whole debacle? What if he worked with the Politburo? He would just give them over!
«Dostavka bila pozdnyaa, drug! Nu seychas u nas est’ mnogo grechki!» Grisha laughed. Twilight sensed a nervousness in his tone.
«Pochemu vy govorili na ponishkom?» a third griffon snapped. «My v strane grifonov!»
«Kakoy?» Grisha didn’t try to feign a laugh this time. «Vremya ot vremeni ya bormochu sebe pod nos! Eto ne problema!»
Twilight sensed the direction this conversation was going. The deathly silence that followed whatever he said told her that this was about to get really ugly. She held still and tried to regain control of her frenzied mind. Her eyes fell to the gap that revealed her two friends held still like—
Well, she was about to think of “corpses,” but…
Okay, Twilight told herself, we’re running. We’re running! Against creatures that fly! When I don’t have working magic or wings!
West. They were going to run west until they reached the Interims. There, they would be rescued and returned home. They would be safe. She would see her friends again, her family, her mentor, her…
She needed to see them all again. She wasn’t going to die. Her friends weren’t going to die. They were going to run. They were going to run fast.
She didn’t know how long she took to process this, how long the griffons had chattered with Grisha, but it became clear they weren’t going to let them through.
West. Run west.
«Nyet, eto problema!» The first griffon growled, «Zapreshcheno govorit' na chem-libo krome yazika grifonov!»
Twilight didn’t see what was happening. She couldn’t see the griffon’s claws extend, their claws tapping the trigger of the slug-throwers. Nor could she tell if they even saw her. Her heart beat fast. She couldn’t hold her breath anymore, her breathing rapidly accelerating. She was lightheaded and shivery, things she hadn’t felt in unison since the days of her fillyhood when Shining Armor told her scary stories—
Even in the times she had stood up to tyrants, she had a cool confidence. Right now, she had no control, no method of overcoming the odds—
She fell.
The motion caught her off guard as she screamed in shock. Her crate was knocked off the cart and burst open. She rolled out onto the dirt alongside Pinkie and Rainbow. The pegasus was the first to get on to her hooves. Twilight didn’t have time to think, rushing to stand up as her eyes lingered on Grisha. The young griffon pushed back the soldiers from the Politburo. He threw fists and left scratch marks. It was suicide!
‘Twilight!’ Rainbow cried. ‘Come on! Run!”
«Poni?» a griffon growled. «Chyortov predatel’! Ostanovi ikh! Ubey evo!»
Twilight’s heart pounded. It was the only thing she could hear as she ran with all the strength she had. West! They were running west!
Her hooves slid down a gravelly hill. The dust choked and blinded her as she ran towards the river she could barely make out through the stinging tears in her eyes. River? They couldn’t cross that! The griffons undoubtedly chasing them would be able to snatch them out of the water. This was suicide!
‘Girls!’ Twilight called out. ‘There’s a river—’
‘We’re going swimming?’ Pinkie asked, already out of breath.
Twilight didn’t have time to tell her friend that they wouldn’t be. Pinkie slammed into her at full velocity and sent Twilight into the river with a splash.
Twilight struggled to get her head back above the waters, gasping and choking. Pinkie held onto her. Within a moment, Rainbow joined them. The rapid waters tore them away from the shore and spun them around as the griffons scurried to the river.
«Blyat!» one of them roared. «Vyzvonite komendanta! Podnyat’ trevovu!»
‘What did he say?’ Twilight gagged and looked desperately for Rainbow. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said—’
There was a sound of thunder. A loud, unnatural thunder. Twilight immediately looked overhead, but did not see a single cloud in the star-ridden sky. She couldn’t tell what that sound was and looked back toward—wait.
She had heard a similar sound before during Equestria’s war reenactments. It sounded eerily like the cannons they had used during the show. But they didn’t have cannons, not that she saw—
A pit of emptiness filled her heart as it dawned on her what it was.
Grisha wasn’t going to attend any party now.
Stats
Page generated in 0.016 seconds
Total duration
1,054 users online
316,385 hits today, 1,872,792 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Worldbuilding!
Rude!
Ah, I love both the analogy to real-life nationalist policies while also building in the use of linguistic production by a second language speaker. Very efficient, this sentence.
Of course! The average Equestrian would not have experience with this concept, having been ruled by the Goddess for an entire millennium at this point. Great Pinkie Pie-ism as well.
If this is based on a real-life phrases, you have chosen a beautiful one. If you made it up yourself, you are very good at thinking up cool historical phrases.
Applying the idea that ethnogenesis is arbitrary to question species being arbitrary as well, as far as it is treated as an ethnolinguistic and cultural identity by the characters of the show? Very cool!
Ah, the arrogance of the metropole! That the periphery may have preserved some of the old knowledge better due to preserving it differently would never have come across her mind.
This quote strikes me as autobiographical, because if it is true, I can see where your writing is coming from and I think the results of it are at the very least very good.
Sounds very familiar…
Ah, priorities. Good use of Pinkie Pie for contrast here.
The subtle use of a different title than the ponies normally use for Her, very nice.
Top notch historical reference, aces.
Hey, the first word I recognize!
For some reason, this especially underlined the poetry of the fact that the situation that Twilight finds herself so helpless against isn’t world-ending ancient evils, but a sliver of a taste of what so many humans have suffered through without their names being recorded anywhere.
Ah, the second word I recognize, sadly.
I just loved this. It really feels as if I am looking out into the world from Twilight’s eyes.
What a powerful way to end this chapter, bringing back that moment of innocence in the middle only to grind it into the dirt.
I feel like I’d need some time to gather my thoughts on this, but I have a feeling that the themes brought up here will make a return in future chapters, so I want to get through them before commenting on them further. For now, all I can say is that I think you have done an amazing job incorporating a more “realistic” geopolitical and historical setting that works well with the canon depiction of Equestria and the worldview of its inhabitants. This has been a joy to read so far.