The Girokon Incident: A Living the Dream Side Story

by Corah Il Cappo

Kleinkrieg Awaits

On the horizon the peaks assembled;
And as I looked,
The march of the mountains began.
As they marched, they sang,
"Aye! We come! We come!"
-Stephen Crane

For two full days, Lance felt like he was back in school. Blueblood was quizzing all of them on Gryphon culture every second of every day.

While he was eating? He had to remember that the Lord of Kleinskrieg was Egil Hauberk. Brushing his teeth? He was tested on proper Gryphon greetings and their responses. Playing pool with Greg? Blueblood wanted him to review his table manners. He was at the end of his rope with all the questioning, the only thing that kept him going was knowing everypony else on the ship had it as bad as he did. Peter, Greg, and Frederic all looked every bit as exhausted as he felt, grated down like pebbles under a gurgling creek.

On the third day, as they gathered around the table for a light breakfast of fruit and pastries, they all looked drained. Frederic was half asleep at the table as he peeled an orange with an absentminded stare. Peter slumped forward in his chair nibbling a croissant. Even Greg had been bludgeoned with so much information that all he could do was fidget with an unlit joint while he munched on some dry cereal.

As Blueblood emerged from his quarters and slipped into his seat, everypony winced. They were all waiting for him to start asking questions, drop another unsubtle reminder about their posture, or correct their spoon choice. But he didn’t. He levitated a fresh apple across the table and bit into it while double-checking the map.

“Uh, you’re sure you don’t wanna ask us anything?” Frederic said, his ears lying flat against his head. Everypony glared at him for asking, and he returned a shrug as if to say 'Let's get this over with'.

“Hm?” Blueblood looked up from his charts and cocked his head. “Like what?”

“Usually by now you’ve asked me to name like three kings and tell you how to greet a Gryphon who you know, one you don’t know, and one who you have a rocky romantic history with,” Lance muttered as he stuffed his mouth with toast and jam.

“There's not much use in reviewing at this stage.” The prince responded as he drew a hoof across the map. “We’ll be in Kleinkrieg by mid-afternoon today. Either you know it by now, or you don’t. So Celestia and Luna both, you better know it.”

“Wait, we’ll be touching down? Officially?” Greg wiped crumbs from his cheek. “Fucking finally! Dude, I’m so ready to see Klinsreeg.”

“Kleinkrieg.” Blueblood corrected. “Before we land, however, there’s one more matter for us to address.”

A sonorous groan made its way around the table as they mentally prepped themselves for another test.

“You don’t even know what it is yet!” He put his hooves on his hips and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re excited about it, it can’t be anything good.” Frederic moaned.

“Fine.” Blueblood deftly rolled up the map and tucked his pencil behind his ear. “Then I’ll just throw your uniforms overboard I suppose.”

“We get uniforms?” Peter practically vaulted over the table, hovering in place with steady wing beats. “What color?”

“Oh no, everypony said they don’t want them so-”

“New clothes!” Lance leapt from his seat, throwing an arm around the prince. “Can mine be leather? Maybe with some metal spikes on it?”

“Absolutely not.” Blueblood slipped from his grasp like oil on water. “I said we need to project power, and one of the easiest ways to do that is to dress cohesively. Thankfully, the Equestrian Diplomatic Corps had some uniforms they could spare.”

He stepped into his quarters, returning only seconds later with a set of garment bags slung across his back. He laid them flat on the table and gently smoothed them out. Each bag contained a beautifully embroidered silk jacket, braided with silver cord along the wrists. Each had a high collar, braided epaulets, and a frogged belt around the waist. The only difference was their color. “Now, obviously, I can’t be seen working with a set of rank amateurs like yourselves.”

“I take offense to that!” Greg slammed a hoof against the table, making his bowl and spoon clatter.

“I’m only speaking the truth, darling.” The prince rolled his eyes. “None of you have any real diplomatic connections beyond knowing me, and we can’t afford to let anyone in on that. If they knew you were all new to the game, they’d take advantage of your ignorance. So, I’ve taken the liberty of punching up your resumes a bit.

“Normally there’s a lot more ceremony to receiving these uniforms, but we’re a bit pressed for time. I’ll have to keep things somewhat brief.” He cleared his throat and lifted the first uniform from the pile. “We’ll start with you, Frederic.”

The alicorn stepped forward and crossed his legs for a small bow. “Ready when you are!”

“Luckily, yours was easy enough.” Blueblood removed a black jacket from the bag and extended it to Frederic. “You married Luna, which makes you part of the royal family. You’ll have the same uniform as me, just in black rather than white.”

Frederic nodded and slipped the coat over his head. “How do I look?”

“Like a professional.” Next was a dun-colored sleeveless vest that seemed to stick out among the options. “This one is for you, Greg.”

“All right!” The unicorn snatched it from Blueblood’s hooves and whipped it on with a flourish. “You sure I can’t get it in green? I was really hoping for something to match my stash.”

“Unfortunately, no. Beige, sleeveless uniforms indicate that you serve in Saddle Arabia. Too hot and stifling in that country for sleeves after all.” Blueblood reached out with his magic to flatten some of the wrinkles Greg was already putting in his uniform.

Greg folded down the stiff collars and Blueblood winced. “And how come you picked this one for me? Do I look Sarabian or something?”

“I have a feeling you’d enjoy the country. They’re a very relaxed, laid-back people.” Blueblood couldn’t help but manage a small smirk. “Plus, I’m sure you’d enjoy the hashish bars there.”

Greg froze, blinking in shock. “Lance, Lance we made a huge mistake. We need to go to Saddle Arabia ASAP, man!”

“Greg, I can barely trust you in Equestria, much less in another country!”

“Lance, it’s my calling!” He slapped the vest excitedly. “I was born for this!”

“Speaking of, I have your uniform right here, Lance.” Blueblood held out a deep violet coat. “I went with purple for yours, since it’s the color for Yakyakistani diplomats.”

“Cause I’m strong, brave, and loyal?” Lance said as he slipped into the jacket. The silk felt smooth against his coat as he buttoned it up.

“Mostly because you’re simple, but yes, those things too.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m teasing.” He said in a flat monotone. “I’ve studied your file, Lance. You’re more brave than smart, and I don’t mean that as an insult.”

Lance cocked his head. “I have a file?”

“And lastly, Peter.” Ignoring the question, Blueblood tossed an emerald green coat to the pegasus, who caught it excitedly. “Green is the color of Zebrica. If there’s one country I know that appreciates music as much as you do, it’s Zebrica.”

“Peter! I’ll trade you!” Greg was already pulling off his sleeveless vest. “Please, Please Peter! Green is my color, dude!”

“No way! This is gonna go great with my coat!”

“Peter, I’m literally green!”

“Tough luck!”

“If you don’t mind,” Blueblood butted into their argument, which continued unabated. “I’m going to be taking the wheel since we’re getting close to Kleinskrieg. Lance? If you could come with me?”

Lance followed close behind as they climbed the ladder to the control room. Blueblood approached the wheel and unlocked it, gently rocking it to ensure the rudder hadn’t frosted over. “Are you a strong flier, Mr. Greenfield?”

“Hell yes, I am!” Lance spread his wings excitedly. “Wanna see me do a shadowboom?”

Blueblood reached out with his magic, tugged a cord, and the Volonté de Celestia began to dip into the clouds. “I have no idea what that is, but I’m going to assume it’s good.”

“Do it now! Show him! Make him fear your power!” Break screamed through Lance’s brain with a manic laugh. Lance shoved the thought aside brusquely.

“Yeah, it’s like a sonic rainboom, but instead of a rainbow, it’s black and red. Pretty cool, if I can brag a little.” He leaned against the bare metal wall. “First time I did it, I flew straight into the ground and died!”

The prince looked over his shoulder and sighed. “That doesn’t really inspire confidence.”

“Well, I mean, that was when I was first learning to fly! I’m way better now!”

“For both our sakes, let’s hope so. I promised your wife I wouldn’t let you die.”

“Aww, how sweet!” Dawn cooed. “Maybe he’s not so bad deep down!”

“Don’t listen to this idiot, Lance!” Break retorted, his voice a snarl. “That royal prick is evil to his core! He’s just faking so you’ll do his bidding!”

Lance shook his head, trying to block out the bickering of his two consciousnesses. “So, what is it you need me for?”

“I need somepony with good wings to fly ahead and get us cleared for approach.” Blueblood drew an envelope with an ornate wax seal from the pocket of his coat. “They’ve been told we’re coming, but I’d prefer to give them a last warning before we arrive. The last thing we need is some trigger-happy Gryphon to blow us out of the sky and doom this expedition.”

“Uh, they’re not gonna blow me outta the sky, right?” Lance looked down at the letter with hesitation knitting into his brow.

“Not if you fly fast enough!” Blueblood replied as he accelerated their descent.

Lance sucked in a deep breath, tucking the letter into his pocket. “I’m gonna trust you on this one, Vlad.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

Clambering down the ladder, Lance trotted through the craft until he reached the balcony at the rear of the ship. He stretched his wings, twisted his hips to work out the stiffness, and held his breath. He set off at a full gallop and hurled himself over the balustrade, diving through the damp cold of the clouds. Tucking his wings against his body, he fell like a scream through the fog at a blistering speed. Wind shrieked in his ears as he plunged towards the earth in a timeless shroud, half expecting the ground to suddenly fill his vision a second before collision.

Exploding from the cloud cover was like entering a whole new world. Below him stretched a seemingly endless expanse of tidy farmland. Fields of wheat and rye, dense orchards of apples, pears, and plums, and trellised vineyards canvassed the world below him, painting the country with autumnal gold. Villages and small towns bustled at crossroads and thatch-roofed farmhouses snoozed on the outskirts. Lance continued to dive, bringing him close enough that he could see the Gryphons flitting like crows down below. A pair of them were plucking plums from a tree and tossing them down into wicker baskets. A cluster was cutting through a row of wheat with a massive machine of black metal that spewed smoke and chugged so loudly he could hear it from miles above. Twists of sweet-smelling smoke drifted up from local bonfires of dry leaves and pruned branches to tickle Lance’s nostrils.

The whole vista stood in the shadow of a massive snow-capped mountain range at the opposite edge of the valley. The roads seemed to snake along a zigzag track dotted with small villas and outposts as they routed themselves toward the peak. Lance could only barely see the top through the shroud of clouds around its pinnacle. A winding ribbon of river split into two at the base, and Lance could make out congregations of great water wheels churning in the rush.

All of that he expected to some degree. What shocked Lance was the airships he spied hovering just beneath the clouds. The first he saw was so large it could have swallowed Blueblood’s craft whole and still had room for dessert. It moved slowly and with deep purpose along the sky, a great shimmering whale of steel studded with more cannons than he could count. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he considered what those were capable of. It would be bad enough if there was only one, but there were six; each one massive, imposing, and bleak as it stained the horizon.

“Oh, we’re fucked aren’t we?” Break’s voice quivered as Lance set a course for the nearest airship. “We’re so fucked.”

“What happened to all that bravado from earlier?” Dawn replied smugly.

“That was before I saw all the guns. We should go Breaking Dawn mode. Just in case.”

Lance ignored them, dove once, and rose again before giving his wings a solid flap. “I’m not gonna go Breaking Dawn, but maybe we oughta show ‘em what we can do!”

He gained speed rapidly as he approached the craft, feeling the pressure of the air around him grow crushing as a frigid cone of wind shrouded him. Lance squeezed his eyes shut as the wind buffeted him before everything normalized with a sudden pop. Two seconds later, Lance heard the reverberant explosion from the sound barrier he had shattered. He shot forth like a bullet, arcing over the top of the airship with a scarlet and black blur trailing behind him. He spread his wings to brake as he circled back around. He spied an opening on the back of the craft where a few Gryphons were standing guard. He slowed to a glide and approached it, waving a hoof in greeting. They stared at him in confusion with one of them managing a weak little wave in return.

Touching down on the metal with a clatter of hooves, Lance reached into his coat and held out the letter. “Hey. Letter for you!”

A gryphon dressed in a lopsided hat with a scar across his beak took the letter wordlessly, his eyes scanning the page. He barked a few sharp short orders in a rasping, guttural language and the other three responded with a salute before they rushed off into the bulk of the craft. He smiled at Lance and slapped him on the shoulder with a clawed hand. “The captain will be knowing you. Thanks much, skyhorse.”

“Uh, thanks?” Lance replied. He wished that Blueblood had given him more of a course in the Gryphonic language. At least he still remembered the farewell the Prince had shown him. “Oh! Guidestar light your path!”

The Gryphon’s face suddenly lit up with a grin. “Be true, skyhorse!”

Lance felt a swell of pride. His first diplomatic interaction, and he’d passed with flying colors. He dropped over the side of the ship and dove once more, just in time to see the Volonté de Celestia drop through the clouds and glide past. He banked sharply and rose with a flap of his wings, landing back on the airship he had come to know so well. Frederic and Greg were waiting for him in the smoking room.

“You’re not hurt? Nopony shot at you?” Frederic said, looking him over with a trained eye.

“Nah, I was fine. They really like it if you remember those phrases Blueblood taught us.”

“Oh damn, dude,” Greg said, tucking his still burning blunt behind his ear. “I guess those lessons weren’t for nothing, huh?”

Frederic watched as they drew by one of the Gryphon airships, his eyes fixated on the countless gaping mouths of their cannons. “Jesus…”

Greg’s jaw hung slack as he watched the ship pass them by. Through the windows, they could see hundreds of Gryphons milling about, performing repairs, or cleaning weapons. “Holy shit man…”

“Yeah,” Lance said plainly. “We gotta stop this war. A fleet of these things on their way to Canterlot…”

“I don’t even wanna think about it.” Frederic shuddered.

The three of them made their way back to the control room, where Blueblood and Peter were guiding the craft along a downward trajectory. They shifted to the left and Lance noticed they were on due course to strike the mountain in the distance.

“So uh, where do we land?” Lance said, staring out the window.

Blueblood pointed a hoof towards the mountain. “See that peak? That’s where we’re headed. The capital city of Klienkrieg, the Rookery.”

“But where is it?” Peter cocked his head as they passed another titan airship.

“Look closer.”

Lance stepped to the window and squinted. The mountain seemed to jut out in places, sticking out at unnaturally flat angles. The truth dawned on him as they drew closer. He could see yawning maws that studded the mountain like a termite mound. Griffons flew in and out of these caves like wasps buzzing from their hive. “Oh my god. The mountain is their capital. The whole mountain.”

“You got it.” Blueblood gestured towards a smooth outcrop of stone. “There’s our landing strip. Everypony prepare for landing. And for Celestia’s sake, be on your best behavior when we land.”

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[Corah Il Cappo]

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