Misfortune

Chapter 1: Misfortune
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The majestic snowy white mountain tops of the Griffon Kingdom stood tall and strong. Their mighty roots embedded deep into the earth, and their form pierced the dark night sky. A lone white moon hovered over the kingdom, illuminating the land below. An orange glow clung to the side of the mountain, cries could be heard slashing the cold air. Stone buildings burned like wood, the great citadel now ash, a great dark figure flew above the city. Its wings pounded the smoked air, the fire of its mouth consuming all it touched, and its claws ripped the foundations of the city.

A griffon flew to the beast, his beak cracked, scars decorated his body, wings carried the seared and burned feathers. A spear held tight in its grip, blood running down the furrowed griffons face. The great beast cast its eyes to the small figure a puff of smoke exuding from its nostrils. A battle cry ushered from the griffon, his talons gripped the spear tighter as he neared the hellish figure. With a forceful swing, the dragon swatted the warrior; he fell, to the ruins of his home below.

The griffon’s eyes watched on as the beast opened its mouth, releasing the flames upon the soldier; his screams were quickly quieted, and his body turned to ash. The dragon flung its tail to and fro, knocking down the strongholds of the mighty city. Belching one last roar, the mighty beast spewed fire across the stone structures. The last of the screams subsided, leaving the roar of the flames to whisper in the night.

Celestia's sun ascended slowly that next morn, the mountainside hushed. The proud city now lay desolate, alone, and cold; the chilled air galloping throughout the stone cemetery. The grand citadel, a skeleton, its luscious halls now dismantled; its sky piercing spire now lay in defeat on its side. Rows of houses torched and disfigured. The once proud and vibrant city clung to the mountainside, abandoned and decrepit.

A stone fell. Groans and muffled cries soon joined in the wind's chorus, a small griffon cub, perched on a stone, looked onto the new dawn. His eyes wet with sorrow, and body burnt with fear. The cub's beak bent, his right wing torn and wounded, his talons null and rough; he leapt from his seat, and ventured into the ruins of his home. A small amulet hung around the child’s neck, an emerald, encased in gold.

Stones lay silent and broken, the wind now gone, leaving the cub to the comfort of his tears. The cub turned his head, ears catching something, rocks falling, a scream.

“Help!” Cried the voice.

The cub turned and scampered towards to commotion. His left wing flapped, the other unresponsive. Turning a corner, the child spotted a large stone perched on top of a larger griffon. His front legs pushing against the stone, blood soaked the ground beneath the griffon. The large griffon turned his head, spotting the boy.

“Oh thank the gods,” he cheered. “Please, help me.”

The griffon extended and arm out to the cub, his eyes hopeful. The child walked to him, eyeing the large stone.

“Here, just help me push this stone,” he coughed.

Blood landed on the boy's feathers, concern grew on the child’s face. The griffon leaned back over, and began to push the large stone once more, the cub soon joined him. Shortly the older griffon’s arm fell, his breathing now labored, and coughing erratic. The cub turned and looked to the dying griffon.

“Please,” he strained, “Don’t leave me. I don’t want to die alone!”

The cub looked to the stone, then to the ground beneath it. Blood soaked the stones beneath the cub’s claws, a tear gliding down the seared feathers of the child’s face. He returned to the stone and pushed it with the little strength he had. The dense object refused to move.

The griffon coughed more, tears forming beneath his sorrowful eyes. He watched the boy struggling to move the boulder, his vision hazed, eyes grew heavy, and a warmth began to envelope his being. The small cub turned to the griffon, his eyes settling upon the dead body. He stepped backwards, and away from the corpse. Disbelief clouding his thoughts, tears clouding his vision, the little cub walked to the griffon once more, nudging his head. Nothing. The cub turned and ran away from the corpse.

Alone again, thoughts being his only companion; the child walked through the desolate ruins, the wind once again picking up, spreading the debris to envelope the destruction. A chill brushes the childs feathers, his tiny frame shivered some as the cold began to seep in. The cub’s eyes cast skyward as white flakes descended from the gray sky, he watched the snow gently fall; it would soon cover the town, hiding the events of recent.

~~~~~

“Why are we going to Griffith? You know I don’t like going to the capitol!” A young Griffon called out. His talons furled into a ball, frustration drawn upon his face.

An older Pegasi flew ahead of him, his wings large and gray, hints of blue weaving throughout his gray fur. He turned his head, green eyes looking back to the young griffon.

“I told you before, I need to pick up some supplies,” the old pony replied.

The two galloped through the frosted air, the pony wearing a dull red scarf, to warm his neck. The bitter chill affected the older ponies wings, slowing his flight. The burly young griffon stayed by his side, making sure the journey would be successful. The yawning valley stretched for miles, the two flying creatures soared high above the frozen tundra below. Their goal lay before them, a lofty mountain, enriched with snow. The capital city of Griffith came into view, the gray city emitted clouds of smoke into the clear blue.

“Is that... smoke?” The griffon quered.

“Something’s wrong,” The pegasus mumbled. “Keep an eye out Tal. I suspect trouble.”

The griffon nodded. He beat his white wings against the chilled air and wind, to get a better view of the city. His quickened pace brought him before the large city, the feasible site before him disheartening. The pegasus reached the young griffon, releasing a sigh, he patted the young griffon.

“..What could have done this?” The griffon asked.

“I suspect a dragon,” the pony replied.

“All these griffons... why?”

“We should check for survivors.”

The pegasus flew down to the desolate city, the flapping of his wings disturbing the silence. He touched down upon the dead stones, his companion did the same. They meandered through the destruction, searching for signs of life. Torn buildings guided them to the center of the city, revealing the citadel, now a tomb for the dead.

“Hello?” The griffon called out. “Is anyone here?”

Nothing.

“If someone is here, please answer,” the griffon shouted.

Only the wind cried out, whistling its sad song. The pegasus looked past the citadel, a boulder stood higher than others, blood speckled on its side. Treading to the stone, his eyes caught the site of a body, half crushed by the stone. Some blood trailed away from the body, someone was here.

The pegasus glanced right to left, searching for someone, “Hello? Is someone here? We’re here to help.”

A small cough rang from the distance, the old pony set his legs to work, and charged along the stone path. The trail of blood was thinning, then another cough emanated. His ears followed the sound, guiding him to a small crevice along the mountain side. The pony halted, and walked to the hole. A small sniffle reverbed from the opening, the pony peered in, his eyes catching the glimpse of something.

“Hello?”

A small sniffle replied.

“It’s alright, you’re safe now.”

Author's Note:

Yeah, I started another story. This one won't be updated that often, it's more of an occasional fun thing to write, right now I'm focused on The Little Things In Life. I hope you enjoy this! Because there's a lot more story to be revealed! Also, I know this is short, but I'm hoping the other chapters may be a bit longer.

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