Collateral Damage

by Metemponychosis

06 - Fates

Too drained from the experience, Gallus had accepted a quick, warm bath in what was an old mine worker’s quarter. Someone had tied some moldy rags to the exposed piping, and they still leaked, but at least it was possible to bathe. Fortunately, the old furnace still worked, and the ancient pile of coal was dry. It was a comforting warm bath.

After the bath washed away the sweaty unpleasantness of rushing through town under a heavy raincoat, Gallus crashed into one of the bunk beds that the hippogriffs offered him. He blacked out immediately. No more dreams for him, fortunately, although he knew it would be a quick nap.

He woke up to the warmness of another body against his back. It took him a moment before he realized that Miss Greta had snuggled up to him and she breathed softly in his nape. He relaxed from his startled tenseness and blinked in the shadowy room. The sun peeked through the gaps in the windows, but Mister Gary was nowhere to be seen. A hippogriff mother laid on the bed across from him and held her little foal like it was the most precious thing in existence.

Making out their colors in the shade was difficult, but the exuberant feathers made up the mother’s ‘mane’ drew his attention. However, Gallus focused on the peaceful slumber that had claimed her foal. Imagining what they may have gone through was easy, and still there was nothing wrong in the world while that little one was in their mother’s loving embrace.

Gallus tried sleeping again. It was so comfortable, but the black griffoness he had met in their escape walked into the room. Gilmara spoke with all the authority of a griffon used to dealing with bad griffons and rough fighters. “Everyone! It’s time. Get up and get yourselves ready. We’ll be departing in half an hour!”

She also kept banging her gun’s barrel on the door frame for emphasis. Miss Greta stirred next to Gallus and yawned while he stood still as a statue with a blush on his face. She didn’t seem to notice, though, as she pecked the top of his head softly and greeted him, telling him to get ready.

“Gary and I will stay with you until you’re safe and sound in Ponyville. Or wherever you want to go.” She gave him a sleepy smile, and he responded with a sheepish grin.

After the awkwardness washed off, Gallus busied himself with a quick breakfast of bread and salami with orange juice. It was not much; just one paltry sandwich for each, though the younger foals and Gallus received a second helping. They had water too, but moods never improved much. Despite a few happy foals ‘having an adventure’, parents and adults remained quiet and sullen. Gallus was just happy that nobody kicked in the door while they slept.

Just in time, as they finished their hasty breakfast, kitchen utensils hanging from the wall started clanging. A rising, low rumble filtered from the ground. As they left the dilapidated building, Gallus could see under the light of the raising sun. They were in an old mine, indeed. In the workers’ quarters, amid other derelict wooden buildings that held the administration. Among the buildings was a small train station with several sets of rails. In the distance, an old steam locomotive filled the air with fumes, chugging along and pulling their ticket out of Griffonia. Five old passenger cars which once brought the workers to the mine would carry those hippogriffs to safety in Saddle Arabia. And along with them, Gallus.

He did not smile or cheer like the rest of them. Gallus kept staring at the pony driver as he pulled the whistle and the wheels ground against the rails. Watching the black metal monster breaking into the station. Gallus’ beak made a grimace; the screech of metal filled him with dread as he kept telling himself it would be alright. It was only a dream, and nobody would pay him any mind, anyway. They would be alright; Gallus had had nothing more than a bad dream. The she-devil in Griffindell messing with him, trying to intimidate him. Nothing more.

***

Gabby decided that whoever those griffons were, they were not nice, but she supposed that compared to some of the public workers in Griffonstone, they were at least helpful. And if she compared them to creatures like King Sombra, they were not so bad after all. They gave her some nice food, fresh water, and even took her to a nicer room. An actual room with a bed, some reading material that didn’t interest Gabby, and her own bathroom. And she really needed a bath.

The only thing that appeared strange was that the young griffoness with the blue cape—Gabby later found out she was a ‘Loremaster’—told her not to get romantically involved with any griffons she might come across. She was not sure why, but that wasn’t Gabby’s intention, anyway.

Gabby took a quick bath and barely had the energy to dry herself up. It was a spartan room with barely any decoration, no curtain to cover the windows, not a desk, table, or even bedside furniture. It smelled nicer than the other room and looked cleaner. More importantly, it didn’t have soldiers staring at her like she had done something wrong, and she was tired enough to sleep anywhere remotely safe. She locked the door to her room and locked the windows, too. The room quickly became a touch too warm, even with the storm outside, the windows kept clacking, voices kept talking in the corridor, but she slept anyway.

She slept so well that, come morning, she could barely remember anything after they took her to her room. Nothing had changed, but the storm had ceased, as it always did in the morning. It was a tired, dreamless slumber that recharged her energies and even her cheery mood. But she barely had time to wash her face and preen herself when someone knocked.

On the other side was a griffon in the green uniform, with the golden buttons and frilly accessories that they used, as well as the green and black hat with a golden griffon. He was polite and direct, telling her to be ready within ten minutes, as they would take her to better accommodations, and she would have breakfast there.

One of those big, burly griffons that does well in the military. He never asked if she wanted it or needed anything. What was she going to do? Say no? She used her ten minutes allowance to make herself presentable. Coming out of her room, she found the soldier sitting across the corridor, patiently waiting for her. Maybe someone had told them to be nicer to her?

Now that she was not having a nervous breakdown, Gabby could see more of the house they had brought her to, and it was not a nice place. It was decrepit, missed finishing on the walls, and had holes in the ceiling and floor. What should be a living room had its windows replaced, and the door reinforced with planks. Stands holding long firearms were all the furniture. Not a plant, or anything that was not related to hurting griffons. A room to the side of the entry room had a desk and one of those fancy magical communication mirrors that Gabby couldn’t afford. Another was an improvised bunk room. Were they in some sort of military building? Probably someone’s country home they had commandeered.

She didn’t have a long time to examine the place. They were never truly aggressive towards her, but they expected her to leave, so she did, and walking outside, she found a carriage. It was a closed carriage, with glass windows and cute green curtains that went well with the caramel wood frame. A pair of griffon guys just waited there, hitched to the carriage. A griffoness in the same green uniform waited and opened the door, waving Gabby inside. Gabby boarded it immediately. She had a feeling that making those griffons wait was a bad idea.

The soldier griffoness hopped aboard after Gabby and slammed the door shut with her tail before sitting in front of her. She just stared silently as the carriage started moving. The little gray one rubbed her paws together and let escape an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Hum. Hi. I’m Gabby. Nice to meet you.” She said and then wished she could unsay it with another chuckle, looking away.

To Gabby’s surprise, the female soldier smiled candidly at her. “I know. Don’t worry, Miss Gabriella. You’re not in trouble or anything. It’s just… things change. Griffonia is changing, and we need to keep up.”

She didn’t have any particularly distinguishing characteristics. Just a young military griffon lady traveling with Gabby. Maybe she was there to make sure she wouldn’t try to flee? Who could know? Not Gabby. Orange fur and yellow feathers covered her, and she had beautiful honey eyes. Gabby would imagine she was not the king of griffoness who would hurt someone. But she was in the military. So, maybe Gabby just didn’t know. She kept talking to Gabby, smiling softly and speaking frankly.

“You seem like you’re too naïve and too nice for all this. I’m sorry… everyone is scared. For better or worse, Princess Celestia brought a sense of stability to everything. Now that she’s gone missing, the northerners got bold. They are in a hurry because things are in motion, and they have to grab what they can. And to them, griffons are important. We gotta deal with all that together.”

Gabby was not sure of what the other was trying to say but felt as though she was trying to help.

“Just don’t take it all too personally. It is not you… It’s the ponies they don’t like. And your family grew too close to the hippogriffs, but there is nothing you can do. And they know that.”

Gabby didn’t answer, but her sheepish stare down must have been enough to satisfy the soldier. She didn’t feel like talking after that, and laid on her seat, letting her head rest on her paws. The wobbling of the carriage helped relax, even if the trip over rough terrain proved the suspension to be too stiff.

‘Don’t take it personally,’ she said. Gabby had taken a job to deliver supplies to the hospital. It should have been routine; walking into the plaza was commonplace. Suddenly, everything had changed. Along the way, horrible—worse—things could have happened to her. She was lucky the griffons in that horrible place, Needle Row, never became hostile to her. And the only reason she had to cross that place was that the military had closed the other ways. Then she had to deal with the military again to enter King Grover’s Plazza.

Once she managed to reach the hospital, it was a mess, and she had to sit there, exposed to sick, injured, and dying griffons. Blood and pain were everywhere, and it was because of the military and the northerner griffons. When someone finally talked to her, Gabby was told she had to flee because of the creepy old northerner griffoness. She practically sneaked her way out of the plaza. And then, in the next day, they went after her anyway. She was so scared she fled and then they killed a nice griffon who was just trying to help. She still remembered the coppery and sticky smell all over her.

Then they put her in a chilly, gloomy room. An angry, scary griffon in uniform yelled at her, slammed his fist at the desk, and accused her of doing things she didn’t even understand. They asked her personal questions, and they touched and examined her in all the worst ways possible. They said she was something she barely understood and the only thing that came across was that she was a bad griffon. That her family had been bad griffons. And that she made bad friendships. They even made fun of her.

‘Immature.’ Gabby thought. ‘I’m not immature. I’m normal and sane.’

Now the soldier lady was telling her not to take it personally. Gabby was not grumpy. She would not hold grudges, but she clenched her fists. She wanted to tell that soldier lady some things, but her throat ached. It had closed with all the spiky words she wanted to put out. Ane then her eyes filled with prickly tears. Gabby said nothing. She stifled a sob, and just laid on her seat, with her head on her paws, hoping that the worst really was over. Maybe one day they’d let her just go back to delivering letters… everything used to be so simple.

How long did the trip last? Gabby couldn’t put her talon on it, but it somehow seemed to last longer than any of her trips would last, even across the city. Maybe it was because even the military ought to stop at their blockades and gates with angry griffons lacking patience and goodwill. Despite the turmoil, griffons, particularly those fortunate enough to avoid unwanted attention and keep their jobs, continued with their lives. The city’s noises remained constant, but after a while, Gabby found herself too indifferent to distinguish them. Finally, they were all gone, replaced by singing birds and the earthy smells of the countryside after the torrential rain of last night.

“We’re here.” The soldier lady’s voice had softened.

Out of curiosity, Gabby stood to sit again and the view from her window had transformed. They were no longer inside the city limits; they were passing in front of the military-owned club outside of Griffonstone. Gabby had been there once to deliver a letter to a big-name officer, but that was years ago.

The dirt road skimmed a chain-link fence. Several sandbag protections followed the fence along the way, and each harbored a couple of soldier griffons in green uniform and large floodlights aimed at the sky, albeit turned off during the day. Behind them were a few buildings and sports areas like a hoofball field, complete with bleachers and support buildings. In the background was the hill, with Fort King Grover overlooking the city below and using the river as its moat. The very river that flowed from an artificial lake next to the club and where several boats and festive piers dotted the shoreline.

Griffons in green uniform worked placing more sandbags, digging trenches, and setting up huge weapons Gabby didn’t know what to call. There was a lot of movement in the green, open areas with working soldiers. Digging, building… Gabby saw them putting together a wooden tower and one of the large floodlights being fixated onto the ground.

The soldier lady chuckled at Gabby’s gawking beak. “This is the place where the brass used to come and waste our taxpayer money with their families. The northerners commandeered it and turned into a gilded cage where they hold all the griffons they like. Makes me wish I had some of those unfathomable qualities they’re looking for, or pony friends for that matter.”

Gabby frowned. There were outdoor pools and more outdoor sports courts than Gabby knew outdoor sports. A large glass terrarium, a water tower. Another building certainly housed mana batteries because Gabby recognized the connections from the facilities strewn around the city, except those could provide magic to the houses in entire neighborhoods. Although the entire club occupied a similar area, anyway.

Eventually, they made it to the entrance. Walls made of massive cement blocks, reaching as high as a house, replaced the chain-link fence. The griffons in green uniform build it, replacing sections of the fence going in both directions from the entrance. And the entrance… Gabby knew little about civil construction or military installations, but that leaned more towards the latter. Sandbags, barbed wire, wooden towers, and the foundations of something massive surrounded a tiny checkpoint with a manual gate. Two soldiers stood guard before one of those big, heavy-looking metal weapons set on a sandbag protection.

Although griffons they were, not the griffons in green uniform Gabby had been seeing. They wore black and golden plate armor and carried heavy tools for killing, along with their firearms. Axes, spears, halberds, large hammers for war. A strange mixture of old and new. Something about them quickened Gabby’s pulse in a bad way. They seemed wild, fierce, almost feral. Their facial structure was sharper, and their bodies had significantly more bulk than most griffons Gabby had ever seen. Maybe it was the stares she received when looking out her window, but she couldn’t help hiding from them as the carriage passed the gates with no wait.

Her companion was not so intimidated, casting dreamy stares out her window. “I gotta get myself one of these northerner hunks…”

To Gabby, they were more intimidating than beautiful, but she could not judge another’s taste. She instead focused on the obnoxious and large, black on yellow sign.

NO FLYING WHATSOEVER

YOU WILL BE SHOT

Written in big, friendly pony ideograms at the top and another language below. Letters like angry scratches probably said the same in the northerners’ own language.

The griffoness sharing the carriage laughed at the sheepish stare Gabby gave her and made a dismissive gesture with her paw. “Oh, don’t worry about them. They have their own quarters, and they are all so polite. They just look big and scary, being monster hunters that joined the Lion’s army. You know, just in case Chancelor Gail didn’t want to let go of his bone. I mean, even Princess Celestia said that the Lion can be king of the Griffons, right?”

Well, yes. Gabby had seen it in the newspapers. Princess Celestia supported the northerner governor to become the king of the Griffons. If that was what the griffons wanted, but that was before. And was that what had happened to Griffonstone? Were that why streets were closed and there were so many homeless griffons? The smart griffons that talked about politics, saying the Lion was going to fix those problems instead of making them worse. Maybe that was part of the process? Maybe the Lion was going to give Gabby her work back when it was all over? Somehow, Gabby doubted. Living with the ponies seemed a lot more attractive than gambling on that. If Gabby would ever have such a choice, that was.

But Gabby didn’t word any of her thoughts or questions about the situation. She had the distinct feeling that those griffons would not appreciate it if she started saying she was unhappy with the situation. She simply forced a smile, and that satisfied the lady officer.

Once past the gate, the dirt road turned to cobblestone and a quick trip took their carriage to what Gabby supposed was a hotel. It had a central block and two wings with multiple, repeating windows over three floors. Red banners fluttered. Two of them hung from the ceiling of each wing of the building, reaching inches from the ground and showing an insignia of black and white griffon wings. Meanwhile, the entire central wing held a luxurious entrance with white pillars and glass panes. Massive wooden doors with rampant griffons painted with gold greeted Gabby. Another carriage had arrived first, though. She had to wait for a few seconds before disembarking.

“Miss Gabriella. Let me give you one critical piece of advice. If one of the blue-cape-wearing ladies tells you to do something—young, or old—just do it. Don’t fuck with them. It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you are. I’ve seen them humbling some of the richest and most powerful magnates of Griffonstone. From politicians to magnates. Owners of teleportation companies, multimillionaires that do business with other nations and get to talk directly to Celestia herself. Generals, commanding officers… Doesn’t matter. Do what they tell you.”

Gabby answered with a meek ‘okay’ while the officer opened the door. She hopped off the carriage with her eyes to the cobblestone road, and when she looked up, she saw two more griffons in front of the entrance. One of them was a beautiful and very athletic griffon lady covered in two shades of gray. Her dark feathers, with even darker highlights, gave her an exotic and impressive appearance along with her hale physique.

Gabby could not believe her eyes and her beak hung open in silent awe. That was Giselle, the fastest griffon alive, and next to her was none other than Gustav Le Grand! With his similar, but inverted, shades of gray and his unapologetic mustache. He was missing the chef’s hat and scarf he typically wore in the newspapers and photographs. Instead, he wore another red scarf, one with a long leg hanging from his neck and showing a brooch in the shape of the same black and white griffon wings. In fact, the pretty griffoness with him also wore an identical scarf, which was odd in Griffonstone’s damp heat.

But none of that mattered too much. Gabby’s eyes grew wide and shone. What a twist. The last thing she expected to happen, after so much pain, was to meet celebrities of such caliber. She sat on the cobblestone and held her cheeks with a delighted gasp. “Oh, my gosh! Hi! I can’t believe!”

The male griffon greeted her with a gallant chuckle. “Oh, hon hon hon. What a delight, mademoiselle, meeting you, too. Greetings! What would be your name, hm?”

“I’m Gabby!” she hopped in front of him with a wide grin. “It can’t believe it! I love everything from your shop in the Market Square!”

He let her enthusiasm draw a thick laughter from him. “Ah, I am immeasurably pleased to hear so, Miss Gabby! I will let my employees know that their hard work on my recipes is appreciated.”

“Ah… Who are you?” the stunning griffoness next to him seemed unfazed by Gabby’s enthusiasm. “And you?”

Gabby explained, talking too fast, so excited she suddenly had become. “He is Gustave Le Grand! Owner of the most successful brand of pastries in the world! The most delicious, creamy, and wonderful pastries ever baked in the history of ever!”

He chuckled again. “Well, not to brag, but Princess Celestia herself does frequently order from my bakery at Cantelot. Why, I often travel there to make her birthday cakes personally.”

“Ah… I don’t eat that crap.” Giselle barely seemed impressed. “It’d ruin my figure and my performance.”

His glee deflated and almost reminded Gabby she was supposed to be sad and intimidated. Instead, she explained it to Gustav with all her enthusiasm, which resisted against her recent experiences. “Miss Giselle is the fastest griffoness alive!”

“Not as fast as Rainbow Dash, I would wager.” Gustav stung at their athlete acquaintance with a mischievous grin, twisting his mustache between his fingers.

“She is a pegasus pony. It is a different weight class, you know,” Giselle polished her talons at the fluffy feathers in her chest, “I guarantee I can out-fly her any day.”

“What about you, ma chérie?” Gustav turned to Gabby. “Have the griffons from Snow Mountains selected you for any impressive deeds?”

“Oh…” Gabby’s eyes fled from his and her fingers fiddled with each other. “I’m just a mailhen. I have a friendship with Princess Twilight Sparkle’s assistant, and family members of the Mane Six. So, I guess I am worthy of some attention?”

“Don’t say that word,” Gustav candidly admonished her, lowering his tone and gesturing for caution. “The northerners don’t like griffon ladies referring to themselves as hens.”

“Yeah. It’s a pejorative word in their middle.” Giselle rolled her eyes and tossed her head. Gabby frowned at the silly nitpick, but Giselle went on. “Like when you call a pony horse, or a thestral by bat-pony. Go figure. These weirdos… the examiner had her paws all over me. I mean, I get it, but…”

Gustav cleared his throat and interrupts her. “Maybe we should enter and see our lodgings?”

Thank goodness he interrupted her. Gabby barely even had the time to feel bad remembering her experience. Still, she appreciated his intervention and obliged when he chivalrously gestured for her to walk first. Not that it was necessary, as the doorway comfortably allowed the trio to walk into the building after a northerner in armor opened it from inside and greeted them. At least Gabby thought it was a greeting. She didn’t understand what he said.

They entered a lobby transformed into a meeting room. A double line of joined tables offered food and drinks to a dozen griffons milling about, talking, and enjoying breakfast. Some of them showed little restraints in socializing while others preferred to sit in their corners, a few entirely avoided the food. It looked like a party, or a social meeting, but it felt more like when Gabby was once summoned for jury duty.

More interesting than that was the painting directly in her sight as soon as they entered. In the back of the hall, a pair of curving stairs cradled a wall, and it held a giant painting which was probably larger than any wall in Gabby’s home.

It showed a family. A dark brown griffon with a white head and brown eyes, proud like a king, dominated half of the painting. He wore a single diadem with a ruby and a dark metal armor combined with dark gray fur. To his left was a young griffon lad of purple fur and mustard colored head wearing a similar armor, but also not as tough-looking, more like a kid, barely an adult, probably. Next to the younger griffon was a young and beautiful griffoness, a hen with a yellow body and white head. But on the other side of the painting was perhaps the most beautiful creature Gabby had ever seen in her life. A tall and alluring, exquisite griffoness. Her haleness put Giselle’s to shame with her white and black physique. Her most distinctive traits were the black, white, and silver feathers and fur, but also the sharp facial lines and icy-gray eyes, along with a crown of black feathers behind her head, raised like a natural crown. She had a white body with black stripes on her hindlegs and black wings closed on her flanks.

Behind them, the background showed a black mountain covered by a city with a thousand lights and a dark, stormy cloud above.

“Yikes,” Giselle said with a frown. “I like hot griffons as much as the next gal, but these birds need an ego check.”

“I would be careful with a loose beak in this place, mademoiselle.” Gustav said in a low, secretive tone. “These are your new rulers. Lord Gilad Ironfeathers, more commonly known as the Lion around these parts, and his mate, Lady Gwendolen of Griffindell.”

Gabby’s eyes lost themselves in that painting, even as she kept listening to their conversation. Something about ego, important griffons and dangerous opinions. Her beak hung open at the lifelike painting. Something about the black and white hen made her back tingle.

“I don’t like’er.” Giselle twisted her beak. “Looks like some broad that wanted to be a stuck up Canterlot noble.”

“She’s beautiful…” Gabby said, still guzzling the details with her eyes. “All of them are.”

“Well, she still gives me the creeps.” Giselle never relented. “They probably paid a hefty ‘spruce-up fee’ to the painter, anyway.”

“Perhaps it would be better if we sampled the food?” Gustav gestured to the table. The concerned frown convinced Gabby such a line of conversation might not be a good idea.

Not that Miss Giselle ever stopped complaining, but Gabby at least agreed that the breakfast looked strange, to say the least. While it offered a few options in fruit juices, the beverages included water and a hot, spiced wine, Gabby would avoid in the Griffonstonian heat. She frowned at the lack of coffee, milk, and perhaps a nice yogurt. There was no bread to be found, much less any cakes or sweets. The food the northerners had offered was lean meats with a multitude of sauces and a few selections of sausage, eggs, and whole fruits. Instead of eating, she and Gustav stared at the table. Giselle didn’t mind it, though, ready to sample the bacon and sausages.

“Hello, Miss Gabriella.” Someone startled Gabby’s feathers straight. She never saw her approaching or where she had come from, but the old griffon lady from the hospital simply arrived. The same one in that awful room and whose recollection made Gabby bump her hindquarters at the table in retreat.

“Nice seeing you again, Miss Gabriella.” She graciously granted Gabby a smile framed in the raised collar of her blue cape. “Don’t worry, I came here to tell you that my personnel will go through your possessions in your home.”

Gabby said only a meaningless and confused ‘aaah…’

“Prepare for a long journey. You are to rest in this day and prepare to take the teleporter to Thunderpeak with another griffon we are busy locating. You will both travel to Frozenlake, where you will join a caravan on its way to the capital. And do not worry, a trustworthy griffon will escort you along the way. You will be safe.”

Gabby simply remembered what the officer lady had told her and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“If you have no questions, enjoy the meeting. We have granted you an extraordinary boon. Please, be cognizant of the importance we have given your case, expediting your transfer to the capital. Lady Gwendolen expects meeting you greatly.”

Gabby’s words failed her other than acknowledging what the older griffoness had told her. The large northerner hen turned to the others and started talking about how important they were. About how honored she was to house them before her peers could adequately transport them to their new homes in Snow Mountains hold. At least for the time being, until Griffonstone stabilized again, and it was safe for them to return and resume their lives.

It might have had something to do with the armored soldiers that suddenly seemed to guard every window, pillar, nook, and cranny, but no one was ready to complain.

***feather scene transition***

They told Gallus to relax and that the worst was behind. The constant swaying and repetitive noise of the traveling train helped significantly. Griffonland hold was not particularly beautiful, but the hilly terrain made for an interesting scenery scrolling past his window. The benches for passengers were old and unceremoniously meant for menial workers whose boss thought poorly of. They were barely more than planks and irons screwed together for minimal seating convenience and attached to the floor. It really couldn’t hold a candle to the comfortable and charmingly quaint trains in the Equestrian Heartland, or the ones the powerful and rich griffons used, Gallus supposed.

Even though the lovely Miss Greta constantly checked on Gallus, almost to the point of being intrusive, he mostly had time to himself and to think. She, Mister Gary, and Gilmara stayed in the front car, which had a restaurant and a kitchen. Of course, that was not your rich griffon train, so they were both small, but that was not a problem. The hippogriffs managed to make use of its facilities and a few busied with a potential lunch on the rails for everyone.

Gallus did not want to think. Last night’s dream haunted him. Whenever he closed his eyes and let the swaying rhythm of the train take him, he’d startle awake. With nothing to do, benches that were just too uncomfortable, and dreading another nightmare, he decided strolling around the busy passenger cars was a better idea.

Lots of bored hippogriffs in that train, ranging in between all age groups. Enough to fill the five passenger cars, but still not as many as Gallus supposed would live in Griffonstone. Being one of the few griffons also fleeing, Gallus drew their attention. The equine-birds had clumped together in groups of acquaintances, families or friends, and Gallus spent some minutes of small talk with a few of them.

They explained that news of Princess Celestia ordering ponies to leave Griffonstone and that hippogriffs should do the same never reached everycreature. Many of them had made their lives in the griffon capital and, despite griffons not being the friendliest creatures in the world, they had never been in real danger before. In fact, several hippogriffs even joined the Griffonian Standing Army to defend the loyalist government. Almost all of them went north when the military launched a preemptive strike. Unfortunately, nobody knew that the Griffon Chancellor mobilized the army against Celestia’s will.

It came as a surprise. Most creatures didn’t even believe there would ever be a war, and they certainly had not expected whatever happened in Griffonstone. The general feeling was of confusion and disorientation. Nobody really knew what was going on. Only that Celestia had told all ponies and hippogriffs to leave and then vanished shortly after.

Details then became fuzzy. Some said there was a coup d’état, but it mostly failed. Northerner agents tried to assassinate Chancellor Gail, but he was not in his official residence in the city. Something the present griffons confirmed with a hint of dark humor: the Chancellor was never where he was supposed to, doing his job. Other confirmed that an old Second Griffon War general that had retired came out of the blue and started pulling some grim skeletons out of the intelligence agency’s closet. The soldiers at Fort King Grover literally rebelled. There was a mass exodus of northerner supporters, but the military stayed and now the city was controlled by them with the northerners.

The rest of the world, with Princess Celestia’s disappearance, dropped Griffonia like it was a live bomb and watched from a safe distance.

Others told Gallus that before the northerners attacked the hospital in Griffonstone—who does that?—Princess Celestia had showed up and she helped the weather team deal with a magical storm. She had had instructed them to transmit her orders and that may have been part of the problem. There was already a lot of chaos. As the dust settled, the saner griffons were helping hippogriffs leave before the northerners got to them. What were the northerners going to do? Opinions varied: most believed the northerners just wanted everyone who was not a griffon out of Griffonia. Other thought they would arrest the hippogriffs and then return them to Hippogriffia. Gallus kept his beak shut because it had been just a stupid dream.

“Why do the griffons from the north hate us so much?” one of the younger hippogriffs asked.

“I don’t know.” Gallus, barely older, told the hippogriff colt. All he knew was that Lady Gwendolen hated the hippogriffs, and that she filled the northerners with that hatred. Something about mixing pony magic and griffon magic. He just shuddered and reminded himself that it was silly to think that Lady Gwendolen could mess with his dreams or that she knew where he was. Or that he put all those hippogriffs in danger just by being there.

When clocks reached noon, moods improved significantly. The food was nothing outstanding: soda and more salami sandwiches. They might not be amazing for one used to tasty, quality food, but it filled stomachs and made foals giggle. Miss Greta and Mister Gary shared their meal with Gallus, and he was so proud of the injury he suffered in their scuffle. A couple of hippogriffs even complimented him for putting his life in danger to save the life of another. His wife kept the conversation away from the more dangerous topics, and while Gilmara was nowhere to be seen, Greta had charmed the younger hippogriffs, along with Gallus, into thinking about nicer things.

For example, she said the Saddle Arabians already knew of the situation and that their own military was waiting for their arrival, ready to get everyone back to Hippogriffia and to the Equestrian Heartland. It was not ideal, Gallus supposed, but he knew the pony authorities would take care of him until that mess blew over.

After lunch, Miss Greta introduced Gallus to a group of hippogriff teenagers that shared his newly gained love for comics. Turned out he wasn’t the only silly birdbrained moron that thought of taking comics with him when fleeing. He, three hippogriff colts and two fillies spent most of the afternoon enjoying the rhythmic chugging along of the train together. The air was hot and damp, but the open windows let it flow as they snaked their way around the hills. At some point, they had crossed into the swamps of Fernland hold, but that made little difference.

Gallus knew a little about the line they had taken. It was supposed to be an express line for cargo joining iron from the north with the budding industry in Fernland. Then the line would connect to the harbor in Beachhome with a hub in Griffonland. The idea was to bring in iron from the north and coke from the Kirin Islands and make it all into steel. Not only the harbor in Beachhome would import the coke, but it would export the steel. Steel that would be sold all over the world and would finally get Griffonian economy out of the gutter. Griffons would finally have something to be proud of their nation.

Of course, it went nowhere. Those possibilities got yeeted into the pile of broken promises griffons had grown tired of hearing. And that was why they wanted change. That was why so many were ready to stab their democracy in the back for a king. Especially when the northerners would sing high praises of his moral integrity.

But none of the teenagers on that train worried about that. They had comics to discuss. Character arcs, memorable villains, and epic moments that defined the best issues ever! One could talk about it the entire afternoon, and they did. The sun set behind the crawling terrain, outside their windows, and their hearty discussion slipped into the night.

The restaurant car became filled with hippogriffs. Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters helping their young foals and siblings with the hot dogs for dinner. Gilmara sat with Mister Gary and Miss Greta for dinner, along with one of the hippogriff couples. They talked calmly over their food, but that didn’t concern Gallus.

Gallus sat with his new brothers and sisters in comic appreciation. Their table had a selection of those, a plate full of hotdogs, more soda than they could drink, and most of the excitement that could be found on the whole train. All carefully curated as not to ruin the precious pages with tomato sauce or overly sweet beverages of questionable colors, of course. Still, theirs was the noisiest table in the car.

The adults had closed the curtains, as the distant flashes of lightning bothered the little ones and the pelting of the rain on their roof was enough already. But Gallus could barely hear it over the heated discussion. Would Mane-iac’s plan work in the real world?

Metal screeched outside, and the walls groaned like an invisible alicorn tried to rip them apart. Surprised, Gallus flayed and flew at the edge of the table with his stomach. The glasses with soda and the hotdogs flew everywhere along with the comics. Some hippogriffs cried and fell from their seats. The magical lights went out. The screaming of the steel wheels grinding against the rails filled the air and sparks turned the night into day outside the white curtains in front of the windows. They jostled like an invisible force tried to rip them apart.

Thunder ripped outside and before Gallus knew it, Miss Greta had tackled him to hide under the table. Others had done the same and several scared eyes shone in the dark of failing lights, under the tables and benches when harsh floodlights turned on outside with clacks and buzzing. The rain pelted the roof of their car and foals started crying, despite their parents shushing them. Some hippogriffs stared back at Gallus with blood trickling down their foreheads, and one of them was unconscious. Her family kept a quiet vigil over her, though.

“Get out of the train, in an orderly fashion.” A male voice, magically amplified by a megaphone, boomed above the repetitive drumming of the rain.

Gilmara stood from the floor and so did Mister Gary, giving Greta and Gallus a serious, grim stare. “Stay here.”

“They’ll kill you!” Gallus tried to yell, but the fear locked his throat. His words came out in a loud whisper, simultaneously too loud and too soft.

“It will be alright.” Gilmara walked past him and Greta. “Let me try to talk to them.”

“Come out and surrender, and we will not harm you!” the male with a megaphone insisted.

Gallus’ beak opened and closed. No further words came out of him, but he tried telling them they would all be killed. All the hippogriffs. The adults and the foals too. The kids he had spent the day talking about comics, too. Miss Greta and Mister Gary. They were all going to die!

“I will not say it again! We will open fire! Leave the train, immediately.” The angry griffon with the megaphone put a grim tone in his voice that make Gallus’ bones quake.

What about Miss Gilmara? She was Griffonstone’s Lord Protector, the griffon in charge of the law enforcement, and she was trying to help the hippogriffs. Gallus shuddered just thinking about the things her death at the paws of the northerners might instigate. All the issues her absence would cause. All the griffons still in Griffonstone that needed help to get out.

Mister Gary walked out first, followed by Lord Protector Gilmara. They tried reasoning with the griffons outside and distorted shadows moved in the curtains in front of the harsh lights. Someone was making gestures and the guy from before yelled. Without the megaphone, Gallus couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he could hear Gilmara’s distinctively feminine voice arguing among the other voices.

Sobbing and screeching hippogriff cubs surrounded Gallus. Miss Greta’s warm body held him tightly, but she too tensed with barely disguised sniffles. In the middle of all the spilled soda, hot dog buns, and wieners, the red of sauce made his feathers stand. Hippogriffs hugged together, covered in wasted food, shaking, and giving him scared stares that sunk his stomach. What was going on inside their heads? Gallus barely had an idea, but the incessant beating of the heavy raindrops against the metallic roof filled his ears and drowned his thoughts.

His eyes shut as hard as they could. Machine guns firing in the rain, screaming and crying haunted him in between the noises of the arguing adults and thumping rain. His breath escaped control, and Greta whispered to him while her paw softly flattened the feathers on his crest.

She shushed him, like a caring mother, and told him “It will be alright.”

His breathing turned to panting and Luna’s words came back to him. They would catch him anyway, and he would know what to do when the time came. And he did. He let escape a scream and shoved Miss Greta with all the might in his limbs. She cried for him to stop, but his legs, filled with anxious energy, carried him through the restaurant car, among the hiding hippogriffs, and out of the door. The heavy rain immediately drenched him, and the lights almost blinded him. By the gravel of the track bed, a big griffon in green uniform shoved Mister Gray’s face into the wet grass and another held Gilmara’s forelimbs, forcing the quadrupedal griffoness to sit helplessly in front of him.

“Stop!” Gallus cried, coming out of the car. “I am Gallus! The northerners are looking for me!”

A distant thunder growled in the distance. The soldiers stopped. It was difficult to see in the harsh contrast of dark and intense light, but a black and white griffon walked into view. He wore a soaked green jacket and a kepi of the Griffonian Standing Army. Most importantly, he wore a red scarf around his neck. Gallus didn’t even need to see to recognize the symbol it bore.

“I will exchange myself for their safety.” Gallus told the griffon.

“Who did you say you were?” the officer demanded. Gilmara and Gary yelled at Gallus to not tell him anything, but he ignored them.

“Gallus. I’m Lord Gilad’s half-brother and Lady Gwendolen is looking for me. Ask Madam Gehenna.” He told the officer, looking up at him, but full of confidence in his voice.

The griffon’s white feathers perked as he looked down at Gallus, smiling proudly about his catch. “Madam Gehenna is not here. Madam Gaetana is overseeing the Loremasters in Griffonstone, but she is not here either. This is my op.”

“I’ll go with you, if you let them go.” Gallus said, still unwavering.

“Funny.” The other griffon chuckled cynically. “Explain to me why you think you are in a position to bargain with eight machineguns aimed at you and your half-blood friends.”

Gallus frowned. Ignoring the officer’s over the top edginess, something was amiss. He took a long while, staring at the line of floodlights, griffons in uniform, and machineguns. The white-headed griffon, with an arrogant smile, humored him until Gallus groaned and glared at the convoluted clouds in the darkness above.

“No Loremaster would have allowed the southerners to take charge of something so important as capturing me. They didn’t know I would be here, did they? They would have come, or at least ordered him to look for me.” Gallus frowned. The rain hit his face fiercely and lightning danced inside the moving dark. “Because if they did, they’d just take me by force and that would be it.”

“What are you rambling on about?” the officer’s eyebrow raised, as confusion replaced his arrogance.

“Fine. You won. I’ll go willingly if you let the hippogriffs and the griffons inside the train leave.”

“I still fail to see why you think you have any power of bargaining here.” The white-headed griffon scoffed. “This is interesting, but I’m taking you in. And I am also taking in these traitors and the half-bloods. And there is nothing you can do about it.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Gallus told him.

The clouds answered for Gallus. Griffons flinched at the ear-shattering boom that came with the flash and the windows in the train rattled. A floodlight exploded, hit by lightning, and sent a couple of soldiers scrambling away. As the commotion died down, a female officer approached. Her soaked feathers were a light gray while her fur leaned towards the charcoal under her uniform, and she also wore the red scarf.

“His name is on the list, captain. He also matches the description.” She told the officer. “They really are looking for him. And… ah… I would really like not to piss off Madam Gaetana, much less Lady Gwendolen.”

“It’s just rain.” The male officer started, but relented and groaned almost as quickly as the words left his beak. “Fine. Take the kid in.”

He growled before turning to Gilmara and Mister Gary. “And you take your filthy train. I’ll see you two again, and while you’re away, tell the Saddle Arabians they are standing on imperial territory that we’ll be reclaiming soon enough.”

“Open your eyes, dude.” Gallus told him with a grim frown. “Whichever Loremasters are overseeing the situation back in Griffonstone let you come by yourself because they knew you’d do exactly what you were trying to do.”

“She knew I would be here.” Gallus pointed up at the clouds hidden in the dark. “But she never told them. They would have come otherwise because they’d never let a southerner deal with capturing me. But they are not here. It’s only you, and a bunch of hippogriffs they’d let you take the fall for murdering. For the northerners, it would put the blame squarely on you and on the Griffonian military. When news reached the Hall of Friendship back in Canterlot, it would be you name while the northerners could say they had nothing to do with this. Congrats. You’ve just been welcomed into the Court of the Harpy.”

“The northerners will never like you. The Loremasters set you up, and your future queen thought it was amusing. You’re just lucky she used you, too. You are tainted, and they will never see you as an equal. All they need from you is to make some cubs they can educate into proper Children of the Harpy.” Gallus pointed at the scarf around his neck. “Wear that stupid piece of cloth proudly.”

Gallus received no answer but an empty stare as the female officer came over to Gallus and put a wing over him. “Come on. Let’s get your highness out of this rain.”

Gallus walked with her, but he took one last glance at Mister Gary and Gilmara while the soldiers ushered them back into the train.

Comments

[Backlash91]

D-damn Gallus, where were you hiding them huge bawls?!

[Metemponychosis]

11863900
Gallus stepped up when he had to. That is how I see him. The kind of guy that wants nothing with the issue, but that steps up when he must.