> The Ties That Bind
>  by Scyphi
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Innocently Enough
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had all started innocently enough.

Spearheaded in a tag team sort of manner by professors Applejack and Pinkie Pie, the School of Friendship began a new unit of study focusing on family. The idea between the two mares, as they explained to their students, was to teach that the principles of friendship absolutely extended into families as well. As such both felt it important the students learn this so to strengthen their relations with their preexisting families, or someday apply it in the future when they begin having new families of their own.

This made enough sense to their students and many liked the idea of using class time to talk about their families, so the unit was accepted fairly well school-wide. It helped that Applejack and Pinkie Pie, both mares that felt very strongly about the importance of families, were able to teach the subject with such passion and enthusiasm that even those select few who weren’t as eager about the subject, such as Gallus, couldn’t help but get a bit caught up in it too.

These lessons proceeded fairly routinely until they started discussing genealogy. Specifically, how it was important to keep good genealogic records whenever possible with Applejack and Pinkie Pie both citing as an example how there was evidence suggesting they themselves might be distant cousins…but due to incomplete or damaged family records, they couldn’t be certain. This news actually disappointed a couple of students, thinking there must still be a way to confirm one way or another. Silverstream, in fact, went to Headmare Starlight Glimmer to inquire if there was some way they could help find a solution for the sake of their professors.

“I mean, the headmare’s a pretty smart mare,” the hippogriff later related to her friends, “and she knows all that awesome magic-y stuff, so I figured there must be something she could do.”

However Starlight, already quite familiar with Applejack and Pinkie Pie’s genealogy problem, did not have a solution nor knew of any means around the problem, and she didn’t think it was something magic could provide the definitive solution Silverstream sought. But, conceding that genealogy and genetics weren’t her typical area of expertise and in the spirit of the school’s ongoing family-based studies, she agreed to do some investigating—see if something new was available that they could try. She did so stressing that she could make no guarantees of success and openly stated she did not think the chances of a solution were very high, much less quick.

Instead, one letter to Equestria’s new ruling princess inquiring for resources to study proved all that was needed, for it just so happened that Twilight Sparkle now knew of a pony that likely could help.

As would be later explained to the student body in an assembly, he was a unicorn named Gene Type who primarily worked for the Royal Guard as a forensics specialist and geneticist, but also did a wide range of freelance scientific projects in his spare time. Much of his Royal Guard work typically dealt with matters of security and thus wasn’t free to be discussed, hence why he wasn’t too publically known outside of the upper levels of the Equestrian government. But after being crowned ruler not quite a year earlier, Twilight had come to know him and claimed him as “one of the best, if not the best, in his field.” Even better, he’d already had past success accurately tracing back some generations the family lines of not just ponies but several differing creatures via a number of cold cases he’d worked on, including a recent one Twilight had overseen. Thusly impressed with his work, Twilight figured that if any pony could assist with this genealogic issue, it was him. And as luck would have it, he was currently on leave focusing on a personal project, meaning he not only had the free time, but was also quite interested in the challenge and happy to try.

And so a couple of days later, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were ecstatic to report that Gene Type had made good on his word and successfully confirmed they were indeed fourth cousins twice removed as suspected. With the two mares pleased by these results, the students of the School of Friendship excited by the news, and Gene Type having enjoyed the project and still having the time to spare, a new idea was had. Since the school was already studying genealogy, why not let the student body have their chance for Gene Type to test their heredities and see if he could uncover any new information about their own family lines?

And so began a new school project.

“Apparently it’s pretty simple,” Sandbar explained once back in the dorm room after the assembly. He laid out a small kit on the table before him and Gallus and reviewed the included instructions. “All Dr. Gene Type needs is a couple of genetic samples to test with.”

“What sort of samples?” Gallus asked as he half-heartedly watched, leaning his head on one arm and appearing skeptical. “Nothing invasive or private, I hope.”

“No, no, not according to this,” Sandbar said, tapping the instructions. “There’s really just the two.” He picked up a small vial and opened it, pulling out a cotton swab contained within. “The first is a saliva sample.” He opened his mouth and rubbed the swab around inside while Gallus rolled his eyes, not keen to see the inside of the earth pony’s mouth. Sandbar then stuck the swab back into the vial and closed it up before glancing at the instructions once more. “And then a…‘follicle growth sample’…like hair, feathers, scales—whatever is relevant to the creature, I guess. For me, it’d be hair.” Taking a compact pair of clippers included with the kit, he pulled taunt a couple green hairs from his mane, neatly trimmed them off, and put them in a small resealable bag. He then held out his hooves happily. “And that’s it!”

“Really,” Gallus deadpanned cynically, watching as Sandbar packed up the kit. “That’s all the guy needs to find out everything about your family history.”

“Well, it’s all just genetics when you get right down to it,” Sandbar reasoned with a simple shrug, proceeding to fill out an attached tag with his information. “And genes are passed on from creature to creature in a family, so with the right samples, I’d imagine you can trace it back pretty far.” When his griffon roommate just snorted, he tilted his head. “You don’t think so?”

“It just seems too simple and easy, you know?” Gallus said and waved his talons over the now neatly repacked kit, ready for mailing to Gene Type for analysis. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for the guy doing it practically for free, I’d say he’s scamming the whole lot of you.”

“Well I trust him,” Sandbar assured nonetheless. “And I’m actually pretty curious to see what he might discover and if there’s anything new to learn about my family history.”

Gallus snorted and sprawled out on his bed, rolling over so his back faced the pony. “Betcha there isn’t,” he groused as he did so.

Sandbar studied his friend’s blue back for a long moment. “Is there something wrong?” he asked. “I would’ve thought you’d be clamping at the bit to do this yourself because…” he trailed off, knowing it was a touchy subject.

“Nuh-uh,” Gallus immediately replied. “I don’t need to know whatever that stallion thinks he can tell me.” He curled up a little tighter. “I already know everything I need to know about my family anyway.”

A poignant silence briefly fell. “Gallus, you don’t know anything about your family,” Sandbar pointed out knowingly.

“I know they’re gone,” Gallus retorted firmly. “And apparently didn’t care enough to ever come back, so…” he trailed off, the fight leaving him with a sigh. “It’s just…not something I feel I need to know. Besides…what use could anything this Gene guy found be?”

Sandbar shrugged. “It could still be more than you know now,” he reasoned, but reading the room, he didn’t press the subject further and instead gathered up the kit, turning to go. “It’s your choice either way, I guess. But…you’ve got another two weeks to think it over.”

“I don’t need it,” Gallus assured as Sandbar left the room. “This whole thing’s probably overrated anyway.” He told himself that surely the results for Sandbar’s samples would be very underwhelming and only prove his point.

This didn’t come to pass, though. “So it turns out I’m a little bit crystal pony!” Sandbar happily announced during their lunch break a few days later.

“You’re what?” Smolder blurted out as she and the other four friends of their group all looked up from eating. “Seriously?”

“Apparently!” Sandbar said, holding up the test results he had just gotten earlier. “One of my distant relatives on my mom’s side was a crystal pony, and according to this, a little bit of their genetics still lives on through me. Not enough for me to appear as anything but an earth pony of course, but it’s still noteworthy.” He reviewed the paper of results briefly. “I’m also part unicorn and part pegasi, but I already knew that—my maternal grandma is a pegasus, and my dad’s grandfather was a unicorn. Pretty cool to think there’s this much diversity in my family though.”

“So wait,” Gallus said, surprised by these results and pointed a talon at the sheet in Sandbar’s hoof. “That Gene Type guy really got all that from a hair and bit of spit?”

“Yup!” Sandbar confirmed with a nod, folding up the paper and setting it to one side so to eat his lunch. “Pretty neat, right?” He looked at his friends. “Has anybody else done the testing too?”

“Nah,” Smolder replied, thumping a fist to her scaly chest. “Dragons are actually pretty good at keeping tabs on our family lines, so I don’t feel the need to.” Nevertheless, she gave Sandbar a fistbump. “Still, that’s pretty cool, dude. Almost makes me wish I had anyway.”

“I did,” Ocellus piped in, the changeling raising a chitinous hoof into the air as if volunteering to be picked on in class. “I haven’t gotten the results back yet, but I’m hoping it will prove once and for all that I am definitely NOT related to Queen Chrysalis.” Noting her sudden intensity drew questioning looks from her friends, she turned bashful. “See, a rumor has started going around that I’m somehow Chrysalis’s long lost secret daughter or something, which is patently ludicrous, because not only was Chrysalis not exactly the mothering type, I already have all the definite confirmations I need back home from my actual family that I am of no relation to her. But I’m hoping the addition of Dr. Gene Type’s test results will be enough to finally put to rest that silly rumor once and for all.” She looked skyward, turning wistful. “It should be any day now.”

“Well, Yona has her results!” Yona said, the yak fishing out the wrinkled paper from within her thick fur, smoothing it out on the table. “Yona not understand all big words, but results tell what Yona related to!”

“Ooh, like what?” Silverstream asked from the far end of the table, having been eagerly taking in the whole conversation.

“Yaks!” Yona proudly declared.

“Shocker,” Gallus deadpanned, unimpressed.

Yona shot him a look. “Griffon not understand! Yona means yak-yaks!”

Smolder shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

“Yak-yaks are ancient yaks from ancient yak tribe that built Yakyakistan and brought all other yaks to live there!” Yona explained. “Not many yaks still related to ancient yaks, but now Yona knows Yona is!” She grinned proudly. “Big honor for Yona!”

“Oh, Yona, that’s wonderful!” Ocellus praised happily.

“Yeah!” Silverstream said, likewise gleeful for their yak friend before turning thoughtful. “Ooh, I wasn’t going to do this testing thing myself, but after hearing everybody else’s results, I’m thinking I will now while there’s still time!”

“Wait, aren’t you like royalty and all that?” Gallus asked. When the hippogriff nodded, he added, “Aren’t most royal families real big on keeping track of their bloodlines already?”

“Well yeah!” Silverstream said. “But maybe someone missed something and the test can tell me something new that I didn’t know, like some long lost relative nobody knew about! Ooh, maybe I’m part-some-other-creature too, like Sandbar!” She gazed skyward excitedly as she considered the possibilities. “I wonder what creature that could be! Ooh, maybe I’m related to something cool, like…like an octopus!”

Sandbar pulled back, his brow furrowed. “Sil, is that even possible?”

“Yeah, one kinda has to wonder how exactly an octopus would get it on with a hippogriff,” Smolder added flatly.

“Gah, I don’t I even want to know,” Gallus declared, squeezing his eyes shut in a full body cringe.

“Mm, too kinky then?” Smolder asked thoughtfully.

“Very,” Gallus confirmed with a nod.

“Okay, so maybe not an octopus,” Silverstream conceded. “But still, I won’t know until I try, right?”

“Well, there’s still plenty of time for you to send in samples for testing if you want to, Silverstream,” Ocellus reasoned. She then glanced at Gallus. “What about you, Gallus? Have you gotten the testing done too?”

“No,” Gallus flatly replied. “And I don’t plan to.”

“Aw c’mon, why not?” Smolder asked teasingly. “What are you afraid of? That you’ll learn you’re part chicken or something?”

“No,” Gallus replied again. “There’s just…not anything there I need established for me.”

“Really?” Ocellus asked, surprised. “I would’ve thought you’d be very interested in having the tests done.”

“That’s what I told him!” Sandbar agreed.

“Yeah, Gallus!” Silverstream said before adding without thinking, “Maybe you’ll find out who your family is!”

An awkward silence followed after that, the subject the rest of them hadn’t wanted to directly say now in the open and leaving them unsure how to proceed. Eyes gradually turned to Gallus, awaiting his reaction first.

Gallus frowned, feeling increasingly annoyed. “What if I don’t want to know?” he challenged after a moment.

“Gallus, not to put too fine a point on it, but…it could be your chance to find out just who they were at all,” Ocellus offered. “Wouldn’t you want to at least…settle the questions there?”

Gallus snorted and didn’t reply, hoping his silence would cause the topic to be dropped.

It didn’t. “Dude, look,” Smolder began, “If you’re afraid of what you’d find out…”

Gallus gave her a glare. “I’m not.”

“You totally are,” Smolder stressed with absolute certainty. “We might as well just call you out on that much, because you are NOT being subtle about it, like, at all.”

Gallus scowled. “So…what if I am, then?”

“Gallus, everybody has those in their families they aren’t proud of,” Smolder said and motioned to herself. “I have a great uncle that everybody in my family hates. He’s a real jerk even for a dragon, in fact. But I’d still want to know about him because he’s still part of my family. I know it’s probably weird hearing it from a dragon like me, since dragons aren’t big on bragging about it, but…even dragons know family’s important.”

“And at least then you’d know,” Ocellus reasoned. “No more guessing, no more mystery…”

“And learn what?” Gallus challenged. “Obviously, my parents, whoever they were, weren’t exactly the pinnacles of parenting if I just ended up on the streets.”

“But it’s not just your parents,” Sandbar reasoned. “Maybe you could find out that you have…an uncle or something you didn’t know about.”

Gallus snorted. “Some uncle if I’ve never even heard of him then!”

“Well, maybe he was never told you were born,” Silverstream reasoned with a shrug.

“Besides…do you really know what actually happened with your family, why they’re…gone?” Sandbar asked gently. “Maybe it wasn’t for the reasons you think it was, and if so…this could be your chance to find out, or at least get some clue as to what really happened…if just to set the story straight once and for all.”

Gallus opened his beak to retort, but then realizing to his shock that Sandbar did have a point, he closed it again and said nothing so to avoid acknowledging it.

Fortunately Yona came to his rescue. “Whatever is done, it Gallus’s choice, not friends,” she reminded patiently.

“Yes, thank you, Yona,” Gallus replied.

Yona gave him an understanding grin. “Griffon is welcomed.”

“Then we’ll not bother you about it,” Ocellus concluded with a sigh. She gave Gallus a concerned look. “But…for the record…”

“Yeah, I get it, Ocellus,” he said, then sighed himself. “And I know you’re all just…trying to help. But this is something I gotta figure out, okay?”

The rest all murmured their acknowledgements and the conversation finally moved on to other, more welcomed, topics. True to their words, his friends did not raise the subject again for the rest of the day. Frustratingly though, Gallus found the metaphorical seed planted in his mind anyway, and as the day wore on, he was unable to resist pushing it away anymore.

What if Sandbar’s right? He couldn’t help but think to himself. What if there really IS more to whatever happened than I think? Could these dumb tests even tell me?

Because the fact of the matter was that he didn’t know. He scarcely recalled anything useful of his mother, nothing at all of his father, and what scant little he could recall was from so long ago, from such a young age…it was entirely possible the memories were inaccurate anyway. In any case, he certainly didn’t know what had become of his parents—no one did. By all accounts they just…vanished one day. As far as any griffon could ever tell Gallus, assuming they knew anything at all (or even cared), one day he’d just wandered into Griffonstone as a youngling, entirely on his own, and no griffon ever came for him or claimed him as their own. Since he pretty much kept to himself, most everyone else chose to ignore him. And…that was that. Given the circumstances, assuming he’d just been abandoned by unloving parents wasn’t that unreasonable.

But, Gallus had to admit, it also wasn’t the only possible explanation for it.

So finally, against his better judgment and only because his brain wouldn’t stop nagging him about it, he relented and discreetly collected one of the test kits and filled it with the needed samples that same evening. When filling out the attached slip of paper with his information, he paused upon reaching the final box, which asked: “What sort of information are you hoping to learn from this analysis?” After some hesitation he decided to just admit the truth and wrote: “who my family is.” He then took the kit and put it in the box for mailing to Gene Type that the school had set out. That finally off his chest, he then resolved to not think further on the subject until the results came in, still telling himself that they probably wouldn’t tell him anything useful. Not that this stopped him from being uneasy about their eventual delivery, almost dreading the day they finally arrived into his talons.

But the days passed, soon turning into weeks, and before he knew it, it was nearing the end of the time arranged for the testings to take place. And yet, even though everyone else he knew who’d sent in samples had their results back in only a couple of days, no response of any sort had been returned to Gallus.

“Don’t know what to tell you, honestly,” the residential and uneven-eyed mail carrier covering the school—Ditzy Doo according to the nametag pinned to her brown uniform—told him after he finally asked about the delay. “I haven’t seen or heard anything about it one way or another, but I just deliver what comes into the post office. I don’t know what happens to them in-between.” The friendly grey pegasus then gave Gallus a playful nudge. “But you just wait, I’m sure it’ll get here okay in the end.”

“There’s no rush,” Gallus flatly assured her before they parted ways, “I was just wondering.” He was almost relieved it’d failed to arrive anyway, taking it as a sign that there really wasn’t anything to uncover, so much so Gene Type must have decided it wasn’t even worth sending back a response.

And then, incidentally during yet another lunch break on nearly the last day samples could be submitted, an announcement was made on the school intercom: “Gallus Griffon, please come to the headmare’s office. Gallus Griffon, please come to the headmare’s office.”

Gallus abruptly froze midway through taking a bite of his lunch, not expecting the announcement. Meanwhile, all of his friends immediately locked their eyes on him with knowing looks.

“Oooooh!” Sandbar teased the griffon. “Called to the headmare’s office!”

“All right, fess up,” Smolder instructed, leaning closer. “What did ya do this time, and why on earth did you not include me in all the fun?”

“But I-I didn’t do anything,” Gallus replied, completely surprised by this development.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Smolder replied with a smirk, unconvinced.

“Seriously! I haven’t done anything!” Gallus insisted, and was currently racking his brain for any possible answers. He was no stranger to some playful troublemaking, true, but for once, he didn’t know of anything that would apply this time. “I honestly don’t know what this could be about!”

“Well, griffon must have done something,” Yona reasoned.

“…maybe you did something to get in trouble without knowing you did it?” Silverstream offered, trying to be helpful.

Gallus’s brow furrowed, doubtful, but at the moment it was the only explanation he could think of. “Well…if I did, it was entirely on accident…”

“Whatever it is, you probably shouldn’t keep Headmare Starlight waiting,” Ocellus said logically. She then shrugged. “Maybe this is about something else entirely than troublemaking anyway.”

“Really, Ocellus?” Smolder questioned, clearly still doubtful. “Since when has Gallus ever been called to anyone’s office for anything but trouble?”

To Ocellus’s credit, she did honestly try to come up with an example. But after several seconds of struggling and failing, Gallus decided to take mercy on her. “Well, whatever it is,” he said as he got up to leave, “I guess there’s no point in putting it off, so…wish me luck, I guess?”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, Gallus,” Silverstream assured. “Whatever you did probably wasn’t anything so bad that it’ll get you more than the usual amount of detention.”

“Yeah, really helping to boost the confidence there, Sil,” Gallus groused, turning to leave.

“If you don’t make it back though,” Smolder called after him, “Can I have your stuff?”

“No.”

“Well, you can’t blame a dragon for asking, can you?”

Gallus just rolled his eyes and walked off. Since there wasn’t any point in avoiding it—in fact, if he was in trouble, putting it off probably would only make it worse—he did as instructed and went straight to the headmare’s office, politely knocking on its double doors to announce his arrival.

“Come in!” he heard Starlight Glimmer call from within. She didn’t sound angry, so that seemed like a plus.

Hoping this meant it was just a minor thing then, Gallus let himself into the office, trying to get a bead on the situation as he did so. “Hey, so, what’s this about?” he asked while approaching the unicorn headmare seated at her desk, “Because if I’m in trouble for something, I’m pretty sure that…” he trailed off upon suddenly realizing there was a second pony in the room standing to one side where he hadn’t immediately spotted her, but was now moving to join them. He recognized the purple alicorn immediately. “Headmare Twilight?!” he blurted out without thinking.

Twilight Sparkle giggled as she sat herself down to the right of Starlight’s desk. “Not your headmare anymore, Gallus,” she gently reminded.

“Oh, right,” Gallus muttered, catching himself and dropping into a haphazard bow. “Uh, I mean, Princess Twilight.”

“Yeah, let’s just drop the formalities entirely and stick with Twilight, thank you,” Twilight suggested with an amused roll of her eyes, motioning for him to have a seat. “I’m more here for friendship reasons than business, anyway.”

“Friendship reasons?” Gallus repeated, now thoroughly confused as he sat down in front of the desk, looking questioningly between the two mares. “Seriously, what’s this all about? Am I in trouble or aren’t I?”

“Surprising as this might seem given your track record, Gallus, you’re not in trouble,” Starlight assured with a grin as she took control of the conversation. “We called you here because we figured you’d prefer to talk about this in private.”

This didn’t reassure Gallus much, who only further tensed. “Talk about what, though?”

“Well, I understand you’re among the students who sent a testing kit to Gene Type for analysis,” Starlight continued.

Gallus blinked, surprised. “Yeah…” he admitted slowly, wondering what this had to do with it and if he should be concerned. “…but I never got any sort of response back. I’ve honestly started thinking it was a dud and there was nothing to report.”

“On the contrary,” Starlight clarified, and held up a response letter with her magic, “According to this, Gene Type definitely has the results for your tests, but that’s what we need to discuss.” She leaned closer, turning more professional. “You see, Gallus, when we arranged with Gene Type to conduct these tests, the school gave him a record of basic information for all of the students currently enrolled. Nothing too personal, of course, just the same information that’s already publicly available, but enough to give him an idea of each student tested and the sort of things he might want to focus his findings on. Obviously, he’s done just that with you, but apparently has also used it to go the extra mile and…” Starlight paused, uncertain how to put it, “…it seems he struck gold.”

“What are you saying?” Gallus asked, feeling confused and not understanding where this was all going, but also feeling things building towards some sort of reveal he wasn’t sure would be a good thing or a bad thing, much less ready for.

Fortunately, Twilight chose to not leave him in suspense any longer. “Gallus,” she explained patiently but seriously, “According to the correspondence he’s sent us…he thinks he might have found a strong lead towards the identity of your parents.”

Gallus’s eyes bulged as his heart…leapt? Dropped? Clenched? He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling it do…it sort of felt like it couldn’t make up its mind, so he finally ruled his heart had a brief mini-seizure instead. “Are you saying those tests of his actually worked?” he blurted out, shocked all his skepticism had proved unfounded.

“Maybe,” Starlight stressed. “None of this is definite just yet. Gene Type wants to be absolutely certain he’s right first before we go around saying one way or the other, but to do that, he wants to conduct a couple more tests with you directly, in person.”

“And that’s where I come in,” Twilight said, drawing Gallus’s attention back onto her. “I trust you were told that Gene Type is currently on leave so to pursue a personal project of his?” When Gallus nodded, she continued. “That project is to study how the distribution of common microbial flora are affected by the more wild and unregulated weather that takes place out at sea—see how much of an impact that might have on such microbes and their life-cycles in comparison to like microbes living where the weather is more routinely regulated and maintained by ponies, whether negative or positive. It’s actually a very interesting study, because it could give us a better understanding of…”

“Twilight,” Starlight interrupted.

“Right, ultimately not relevant to this—the point is,” Twilight said as she got back on track, “for this study, Gene Type took an airship equipped with a portable lab and flew it out to around the Griffish Isles, where he could adequately monitor conditions of the sea and weather for his studies. Because the sea weather isn’t regulated out there, he can’t precisely predict when and where the weather might change and require him to adjust his monitoring equipment accordingly, making it more ideal for him to just stay there continuously until his studies are done—that’s why you were mailing the sample kits out to him rather than him simply coming here to conduct the tests.”

“So I’m guessing that if we’re doing these additional tests he wants to do, I’m going to have to go to him,” Gallus surmised.

Twilight nodded. “And that’s primarily what we wanted to talk to you about, so to work out the logistics of getting you out there and back and what arrangements needed to be made so to excuse you from any classes you’d miss in the process.”

“Assuming you’re interested in going at all,” Starlight added in, “because we don’t want you feeling like you’re being pressured into going if you don’t want to. I assume you sent in a sample kit in the hopes of something like this would be uncovered, of course, but I want it clear you have the option of turning Gene Type down if you’re getting second thoughts. So we also needed to see how you…wanted to proceed from here.”

As both mares looked at him awaiting a response though, Gallus wasn’t sure what he thought about all of this. He really hadn’t been expecting this outcome, thinking he at best might have gotten some vague clues about some ancient ancestor like Sandbar’s crystal pony relation, and even that he had doubts about. He’d really only done it at all because he couldn’t deny it was probably worth taking the chance anyway even if it did turn up nothing, like his friends had told him.

And even though the whole prospect of possibly finding out who had brought him into this world in the first place intimidated him greatly, he still couldn’t think of any good reason why he should let this quite probably once-in-a-lifetime chance pass him by. Nevertheless, he made a show of mulling it over, mostly just to stall and give him a chance to even process what he was being told, consider all of his options, and decide how to best respond.

“So the Griffish Isles are a bit far away for me to fly to on my own,” he finally began by pointing out the obvious concern.

“I’ve already made arrangements for a guard and carriage that can pick you up and take you out there and back,” Twilight assured.

Gallus’s eyebrows went up at that. “Really,” he deadpanned, “You’re that confident that I’m going to agree to this.”

Twilight hesitated for a spilt second. “…well, the carriage is going out to the Griffish Isles regardless of whether or not you’re on it,” she explained, “because you won’t actually be the only one visiting Gene Type for testing.”

As if the news that Gene Type could possibly ID his parents wasn’t enough, him apparently going with company was an additional surprise for the young griffon. “Who else would need to have these test things done too?”

Twilight seemed reluctant to just say it, probably for respect of their privacy, but since Gallus would only find out anyway, she yielded. “…Spike. Since we knew Gene Type was already conducting the tests for the school, he figured he might as well join in.”

“Spike?” Gallus repeated in surprise, but no sooner had he done so did he realize it probably made sense—he was aware Spike also knew relatively little about his own heritage. “So, wait, the guy’s got a lead on IDing his family too?”

“…Sort of,” Twilight admitted with a small wince, seeing this would need explaining. “You see, the sort of tests the school’s been doing were already done for Spike years ago now, and…that hadn’t really gotten us anything useful. Knowing that though, Gene Type suggested doing some more thorough tests, and, well, since he wanted you to come up for similar testing already…”

“So wait, the same tests he wants to do with me? Like the exact same?” When Twilight nodded, Gallus made an amazed hum. “Well, that’s a heck of a coincidence.”

“That’s what I said,” Starlight agreed and again held up the response letter. “But apparently Gene Type is confident he can also find a lead for Spike through much the same means he found yours.”

Gallus made a confused frown, not seeing how the two would interconnect. “How?”

“Again, he’s reluctant to give all the details until he’s done these final tests to confirm,” Starlight explained, then seeing Gallus’s frustration at that, added, “You have to understand, Gallus, he gets how sensitive a matter this is for the both of you. No doubt he doesn’t want to risk either of you getting your hopes up too high in case it turns out to be a dead end. You can’t fault him for taking precautions, can you?”

Gallus sighed. “No, I suppose I can’t,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But it’d help me understand how the heck he managed to do this for both of us in the same fell swoop.”

“I’m not an expert in genetics myself,” Twilight offered, “but I am somewhat familiar with how the tests for this work, so my guess is that he can simply do it through the same procedure and methodology. If so, then it’s really only a coincidence in the sense that both you and Spike happened to inquire about it in close succession like this.” Watching Gallus mull that over, she then added, “In any case, at least you’ll have a…kindred spirit, so to speak?...there with you for the testing.”

“Someone who’ll probably relate to you on this whole matter about as well as you can for him,” Starlight added wisely, “anxieties about the testing and all.”

Gallus snorted at the implication that he and Spike had that much in common over this, but decided complaining about it would only be counterproductive and mean spirited. And while he didn’t know Spike especially well, he still knew him well enough from back when the dragon had worked at the school to see he was a good kid that didn’t deserve the lashing out just because this whole situation made Gallus feel…uncomfortable.

“Assuming you want to go at all,” Twilight added again when Gallus didn’t immediately speak further. “No one will hold it against you if you decide you don’t want to.”

“We could even get Gruff’s input on this if you want,” Starlight also offered. She gave Gallus a sympathetic grin. “Though I think you and I already know what he’d say about this.”

Gallus huffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of the aging griffon that’d been unwillingly roped in as his de facto guardian while attending the school. “Gruff’s not going to care one way or the other,” he concluded with confidence, envisioning Gruff just waving it off as an annoyance not concerning him as usual. “So it might as well be my call to make anyway.”

“Then what is your call on it, Gallus?” Starlight prompted gently.

Gallus didn’t respond right away, once again running his options through his head, but his brain was locking up unhelpfully. “I suppose you both think I should go,” he reasoned, glancing at the two mares. When neither of them immediately responded, he continued. “I mean you might as well as admit it. Do you think I should go?”

The princess and headmare exchanged glances briefly, silently conferring with each other. “I think it’s a chance you might not get again at least,” Twilight admitted finally, though without definitively answering one way or another.

Starlight was a little more open though. “To be honest, Gallus…I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t at this point. It’d at least…give you closure, wouldn’t it?”

And she had a valid point. But Gallus still hesitated, the prospect daunting him. He’d spent most of his life knowing just shy of nothing about his parents, and now he had a chance to possibly change all that. Maybe even find out why his parents had vanished from his life at all. But would he even like what he found if he did? Did that matter? He supposed Starlight had a point in that he owed himself the chance to fill that gaping hole in his life…even if it just confirmed the worst he’d always feared.

And indeed, it was that “worst” that he feared the most.

But admittedly, refusing the chance just because he was too afraid to face it wasn’t very flattering. And now that he was thinking about it…he wasn’t sure he would forgive himself later if he really let this chance slip through his talons like that.

So ultimately, he concluded his choice was already made. “I’ll do it,” he resolutely announced.
> To Face Reality
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Preparations were thusly made and everything scheduled accordingly. But though Gallus had committed himself to it, he was still intimidated by the prospect, which didn’t help with all of the second thoughts coming up shortly thereafter. Knowing his luck, this would all probably be a waste of time anyway and Gene Type’s discoveries were for nothing. The option of changing his mind and backing out still lingered, and the temptation to take it was higher than he really cared to admit. Part of him hated himself for feeling so uncertain about it, while another part reminded him it was certainly not ungrounded, considering what it could mean for him and whatever was uncovered in the process.

But he stubbornly stuck his ground, if just to prove something to himself…though exactly what he still wasn’t sure. And as Smolder pointed out when filling in his friends on all this, there was still one guaranteed upside—no matter what happened, he still got a free day off from school and that had to count for something. In fact, because his ride wouldn’t arrive to pick him up until ten o’clock and he’d been excused from his morning class (and his roommate Sandbar didn’t), this meant Gallus both got the chance to sleep in and get the dorm room all to himself.

And he naturally took full advantage of it—if things did prove to be all for naught, then he wanted to get the fullest he could out of this free day.

Though perhaps he exploited it a little more than he should’ve as he was eventually roused from his deep sleep by a polite knock on his door. At first the knock didn’t fully register within his groggy brain, so he was rolling over to drift back to sleep when a second knock followed. This one actually sank in, so Gallus lifted his head up to squint at the door, confused and annoyed by the interruption. But concluding he’d have to get up and answer the door to make it go away, he stretched and reluctantly pulled himself out of bed.

On his way to the door, a third knock started. “Gallus, are you in there?” a voice called through the door as they knocked.

Gallus recognized the voice, but with his brain still waking up, the significance didn’t really hit him until he opened the door in the midst of the knocking and saw for himself the younger dragon sheepishly standing there, taken aback by the griffon’s sudden arrival. “…Spike?” Gallus blearily asked, surprised to see him at his door. He blinked a few times trying to clear the lingering tiredness from his brain. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…seeing if you were ready to go?” Spike answered, puzzled. He looked the griffon up and down briefly leading Gallus to also glance down at himself and notice how mussed up he currently looked. “Were you still asleep?”

“Well yeah!” Gallus responded, rubbing at his eyes with one set of talons. “What else would I be doing this early in the morning?”

Spike stared at him for a second. “Gallus, it’s nearly ten in the morning.”

Gallus’s brain locked up with realization before finally revving into full gear. “Wait…what?” he hissed before whipping around to glance at his alarm clock. Sure enough, it read it was about eighteen minutes to ten. He gaped at it, processing how he’d slept in much later than planned. “…finches!” Then, catching himself, he looked back at Spike, still appearing taken aback. “Sorry, I just…I didn’t mean to sleep in this late…” he paid closer attention to Spike’s appearance and saw that, in addition to the official-looking golden medal he wore around his neck, he also carried a neatly packed satchel on his back. “I suppose this explains why you look ready for a trip.”

“Well…that is the plan for us both, right?” Spike asked hesitantly. He clearly didn’t quite know how to respond Gallus’s own lack of preparedness. “…why were you sleeping in today of all days anyway?”

Gallus snorted, thinking it obvious while again massaging his eyes. “It’s also a day with no classes for me, so forgive me for wanting to sleep in a little.”

“Really? I could hardly sleep at all last night!” Spike made a sheepish grin. “Couldn’t stop thinking about…well…today.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ll bet,” Gallus muttered half-heartedly. He stretched again. “You are here early, after all…”

“Barely,” Spike retorted with a small frown. But he nonetheless sighed. “I suppose, though, working at the palace has made me a little…extra punctual.”

Gallus snickered. “You are sounding a little like Princess Twilight right now.”

Spike groaned causing Gallus to laugh. “Awww, I don’t wanna be a slave to a schedule like Twilight though,” he bemoaned. “Gah, being royal advisor changes you more than I thought.” He sighed before turning professional again. “But…we both still have a schedule we agreed to keep, and I’m sure Gene Type will appreciate us not being too delayed so…how much time do you need to get ready?”

Gallus looked himself over before sniffing his shoulder. “Can I at least get a shower first?”

Spike was obviously reluctant to agree, but giving the griffon another once-over, he concurred a shower might be wise. “Okay,” he agreed with a nod. “But try to be quick, all right?”

“I’ll just be in and out. Five minutes, tops,” Gallus promised as he started trotting down the hall for the dorm showers.

Spike trailed in his wake and waited outside while Gallus took the welcomed hot shower—it did wonders to help shake the cobwebs from his mind—and overall freshened up. He exited again feeling and looking a bit more awake in addition to freshly clean, but Spike’s mood had decreased a notch by then, having been tracking the time with a pocketwatch he’d pulled out.

“That took fifteen minutes,” he couldn’t help but gripe, motioning Gallus to hurry as they started down the hall. “I thought you said you were going to be in and out.”

Gallus rolled his eyes, unbothered. “Sorry,” he grumbled, “last night’s dinner wanted out too.”

“Ew, Gallus!” Spike said, wrinkling his snout. “Too much information!”

“You asked!” Gallus snapped back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Spike then backpedaled, seeing fighting wasn’t getting them anywhere. He paused to take a deep calming breath. “Look, I’m not trying to be snippy here. I’m just…surprised you’re acting like this was sprung on you suddenly when I know it’s not.”

“I know, I know,” Gallus apologized as they walked, stopping briefly again at his dorm to grab his own bag. Fortunately, he had enough foresight to pack it the previous night so it’d already be prepped to go. “Sorry, it’s just…” he trailed off, unsure how he wanted to say it.

Spike seemed to understand nonetheless. “…it’s kind of a big day for us, isn’t it?” he asked knowingly.

Gallus sighed. “Assuming Gene Type’s actually right about whatever he’s found,” he admitted.

“Do you think he is?”

“That’s the part that I’m still getting hung up on.” Gallus averted his eyes. “Not sure what I want to think about that.”

Spike hummed knowingly but otherwise didn’t comment further. If it was because he sensed he didn’t really want to talk about it, Gallus appreciated it. Never mind how awkward it felt, he really didn’t know how he wanted to articulate what he was feeling currently.

Because morning classes were still in session, the halls of the school were essentially empty, and they encountered no one except a passing student that neither Gallus nor Spike knew personally. So without any further distractions barring their path, they headed straight out into the school courtyard where an impressive royal carriage pulled by a grey-furred stallion was waiting for them.

Gallus whistled at their ride. “Wow.”

“Yeah, Twilight pulled out the fancy carriage for the occasion,” Spike said with a grin. “She figured it called for a little riding in style.”

As they approached the carriage, the stallion, who Gallus now saw wore a deep blue armor instead of the more iconic golden armor he associated with the Royal Guard, turned to look at them. “There you are,” he noted aloud. “That took longer than I thought.”

“Yeah sorry, lieutenant, but we had to make some…last minute prep,” Spike explained simply before motioning to Gallus. “Anyway, this is Gallus.”

“Hello,” Gallus said to be polite, extending one paw for a shake.

“Hey,” the guard replied, returning the shake with his hoof, “Second Lieutenant Dream Chaser of the Night Guard at your service.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up. “Night Guard?” he repeated in surprise, not expecting that. A glance at Dream’s wings he’d previously not paid attention to showed they were leathery and bony instead of feathery and fluffy as he’d assumed. “Seriously? As in like, Equestria’s special forces?”

Dream just laughed. “I wouldn’t read too much into it,” he advised. “I was really just the next guard free and available to fill in when the first choice…” he paused to choose his words carefully, “…proved unavailable.”

“Well, sure, but I bet you could still tell some cool stories, right?” Gallus asked, now turning interested.

But Dream just gave him an apologetic grin. “Unfortunately, none you’re cleared to hear,” he explained, which only disappointed Gallus since that was effectively confirmation there were stories to tell. Dream then motioned with his head to the carriage, “Anyway, we have places to be, so might as well step aboard and make yourselves comfortable—we’ve got a long flight ahead of us.”

So since they’d already dallied long enough, they climbed into the carriage and were soon off, flying away from Ponyville and roughly northeast towards the Celestial Sea. Gallus had wanted to try and strike up conversation with Dream as they flew, see if he could still squeeze any cool details out of the lieutenant’s work in the Night Guard, but the guard was concentrated on flying and the rushing wind made it hard to speak with him while he was harnessed up.

Gallus figured this might have been by design, as the inside of the carriage, though open-top, was shaped in such a way that it was nearly entirely shielded from such interference, making it easy to converse with other carriage occupants. This was probably so royalty and other officials could talk freely in-flight without fear of whoever was pulling the carriage accidentally overhearing potentially sensitive information. And there was little doubt that the carriage carried such important dignitaries on a regular basis, as it was lush with luxuries only such creatures would get to enjoy. Cushy padded seats, exquisitely polished detailing, gold leaf trim, pristine shag carpeting, a center table for both work or dining, a radio capable of listening to civilian or government stations with crystal clear signal, and even a mini-fridge (though to Gallus’s disappointment, there was nothing in it but a pair of water bottles for him and Spike). It was all so nice that admittedly Gallus had felt obligated to thoroughly wipe his feet before he’d stepped aboard, and even now he was a little reluctant to be sitting in any of the seats, for fear he’d somehow sully them.

The carriage also offered an enjoyable view of pretty much everything around it as it flew…except the front, where the carriage’s nose was shaped to mostly block one’s view of most anything at or below the horizon unless you leaned way over its sides. But this was probably for the sake of carriage-pullers like Dream Chaser, as this way one could only see his head and back and no lower on his body. Gallus eventually appreciated the benefits of that—if he were in Dream’s spot, he wouldn’t want to spend the whole trip wondering whether or not the passengers were ogling him, so this resolved that problem nicely. But the view everywhere else was nice. Only it was just mostly uniform hills, fields, and the odd country town for miles around, all things Gallus was fairly used to seeing as a flying creature and not especially captivating for him on this occasion.

And after only about an hour into the flight, the carriage’s luxuriousness started losing its charm, especially once Gallus had explored everything it offered. And with little else to do, boredom started looming near, making him long for something to entertain himself with. As Spike had settled down to work on some official-looking paperwork he’d apparently brought with him, Gallus had been leaving him to it, but now he wondered if he should try to strike up a conversation with the little dragon. The problem was that since most of what he knew about Spike was gotten in passing, he only had vague ideas about what might interest him, making it difficult to come up with a good conversation starter.

Finally, Gallus was given one when he saw Spike pull out his pocketwatch to check the time, remembering suddenly that he’d never seen him with such a watch before now. “So where’d you get that pocketwatch, anyway?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Spike hummed, looking up from the gold-colored timepiece before closing it. “Oh, uh, Raven gave it to me on my first day as royal advisor, as a sort of welcoming gift.”

“…who’s Raven?”

“Raven Inkwell. She’s kinda my predecessor for the assistant royal advisor job, or at least she will be soon.” Making a humble grin, Spike turned to so face Gallus more fully. “She’s been helping train me for the job, but soon she’ll be getting promoted to the head royal advisor position.”

Gallus frowned, confused. “What’s the difference?”

“The assistant advisor works directly with the ruling princess and helps assist with all of her needs, like handling travel logistics, managing the schedule, help do the paperwork, and so on,” Spike explained. “The head advisor, however, serves as the princess’s liaison between herself and pretty much all of the other departments within both the palace and most of the central government, helping address the more day-to-day issues faced in all of them that the princess may not be able to spare the time to do herself. Basically, it’s much more demanding than assistant advisor.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Gallus said with a smirk. “Sort of surprised they didn’t just make you the head advisor right off the bat.”

Spike smiled, flattered, but shook his head. “From the start, Twilight wanted me to keep serving as a friendship ambassador in addition to royal advisor, which meant my duties needed to be kept free enough to do so. Besides, I’ve got enough on my plate with just the assistant advisor job. I don’t think I could really handle tackling the head advisor post.” He shrugged. “Raven has more experience anyway, and after serving so well as Celestia and Luna’s assistant advisor, it was agreed that she deserved the promotion. Plus, the spot’s opening up anyway—the current head advisor, Kibitz, is planning to retire soon after, like, fifty years of service or something.” Spike paused to consider. “In just a couple more weeks, in fact.” He looked back at Gallus with a grin. “At that point, Raven will take his job and I’ll work solo as the assistant advisor from then on.”

“Well, kudos to you, I guess,” Gallus said. A moment of silence then fell as he sought a way to keep the conversation going. “So…how long has it been now since you and the princess took over at Canterlot?”

Spike hummed to himself as he thought about it. “Gosh, it’s nearly been a whole year now…heh, time really flies when you aren’t keeping track. But then I have been staying plenty busy this whole time.” He turned to Gallus. “How about you, though? How have things been for you?”

Gallus shrugged. “Eh, the same as it’d already been, really,” he admitted. “Just…going to school, learning about friendship…all that stuff.”

“Been getting good grades?”

Gallus hesitated tellingly. “Well…they’re all still passing grades at least.”

Spike laughed. “That’s okay. To me, getting all A’s isn’t the important thing so long as you’re still learning what you’re there to learn.”

“I like to think that I am,” Gallus assured confidently. He laughed teasingly to himself. “Otherwise, I guess I wouldn’t be at the school anymore, now would I?”

“Oh, we all know you wouldn’t stand for that,” Spike remarked, giving the older griffon a smirk. “I remember the lengths you’d go to try and keep your friends at the school for Hearth’s Warming.”

“That happened one time!” Gallus retorted swiftly. “And even I admit it was a mistake to have done it in the first place.”

“Point still stands, though,” Spike pressed. “You like it at the school, don’t you?”

Gallus rolled his eyes but he couldn’t keep a slight grin off his face. “Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything to appreciate back in Griffonstone anyway,” he reasoned as a half-hearted cover. “Not that anyone there would really miss me.”

“Not even griffons like Gabby or Gruff?” Spike asked.

“Gabby and I’s rapport can be summed up as we know each other by name but not much else,” Gallus elaborated pointedly. “And Gruff and I only put up with each other because we have to. I don’t even like the guy, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me either.”

Spike nodded to himself, his gaze turning distant for a moment. Gallus didn’t miss his attempts to hide a frown about that. “Well, in any case, I’m kind of glad for that,” Spike then said, changing the subject. “Otherwise, you probably wouldn’t be here and I’d have to go see Gene Type on my own.”

The somewhat sullen shift in tone gave Gallus momentary pause. “Aw, c’mon,” he reasoned. “If it wasn’t me, I’m sure Princess Twilight would’ve tagged along instead. Or, failing that, sent someone else to go with you. One of her friends, probably. Someone else you know…probably better than you know me, really.”

“Probably,” Spike admitted. “But…for the record…I’m glad it’s a creature who can appreciate this because it applies to them just as much as it does for me.”

Gallus scoffed. “Yeah, well…honestly, I’m still shocked it happened at all,” he admitted. “I…sort of just sent in that sample kit on a whim and because everybody was pressuring me to. I didn’t actually think it’d turn up anything. Not like this, at least.”

“Makes sense,” Spike said with a sage nod. “I was kinda surprised when Twilight told me you’d be coming too. I’d have figured you wouldn’t be interested in getting the testing.”

Gallus snorted, gazing out at the land passing them by. “Well, you’re the first to think so. Everybody else thinks I should’ve been clamping at the bit for it and were surprised when I wasn’t.”

“Nah, I get why you wouldn’t be eager,” Spike assured, his gaze also distant. “You’ve always been so…confident about that. There wasn’t anything you could’ve changed about whatever had orphaned you anyway, so you chose to accept it and focused at moving on rather than staying…stuck in the past.”

Gallus was silent for a moment. “I don’t know if I’d say I’d accepted it,” he corrected finally. “But…yeah, I never really saw the point in dwelling on it. I figured…whatever had happened, it was done and over with, so…no use continuing to cry over spilt milk, right?” He shook his head. “I’d rather think about the here and now than the past anyway.” He pinched the bridge of his beak with his talons. “Unfortunately, it’s…sort of hard to do that in this scenario.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Spike assured.

“Do you, though?” Gallus asked, not out of malice but genuine curiosity. “Because you have a family. I mean, adopted, sure, but…still more than anything I’ve got, and still something you’ll have no matter how this goes.”

Spike averted his gaze, looking a little guilty. “…I mean, I am glad to have Twilight and her family. I might not refer to them as family very often…but I do see them as one. I wouldn’t ever want to give them up.” He glanced up at the griffon’s solemn face. “But…just because I was adopted by another family doesn’t mean that I don’t still…miss the first, even if I never knew them. I get what it can be like to wonder…what if, you know? And it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still try to know. About my real parents…what could’ve happened to them…”

“But it stops being a what-if the moment you know the reality, and whether or not it matches up with the fantasy.” Gallus watched Spike for a second. “So you see why I’m not eager to get into all of this, right?” he motioned around them. “It’s that…what-if…staring me right in the face…and I’m not sure I’m…” he hesitated, biting his tongue, “…ready to face that reality, because once I do…you can’t exactly go back to the fantasy…” his voice dropped to just above a soft whisper. “…and the fantasy might’ve been better in the long run.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, giving him a sad but reassuring grin. He scooted closer to Gallus and breathed a heavy sigh, trying to gather his thoughts. “Did you ever hear about Sludge?”

“Sludge?” Gallus racked his brain for a second. “Wait, was that the name of some fat dragon Smolder said was hanging around Ponyville about a year back?”

Spike nodded. “Smolder’s already told you about him then?”

“Well…sort of…mostly it’s just angry raving that’s hard to follow.” Gallus studied Spike for a moment, realizing there was more to it than Smolder’s half-formed rants. “What did he do?”

“Well, among other things, he wanted to exploit the generosity of Twilight and her friends…so he tried to pass himself off as my dad as an excuse to do so.”

Gallus scowled. “Oh, that’s low.”

Spike snorted. “What made it worse is that I believed him for a while…made me think I had actually found my…flesh and blood family. He wasn’t, obviously, but…it gave me a sense for the first time of what that might actually be like. For a moment, I got to feel what it was like to know the real thing. And even with Sludge being a jerk, it’d felt…good.” He shuffled awkwardly. “Look…I’m very happy with what I’ve already got, don’t get me wrong…but…the whole experience made me realize…as much as I might want to, I still can’t escape that past, that reality. Sometimes, I’m just going to have to face it head on. And suddenly I felt ready to face those answers, good or bad, if I could find them. And this time…maybe something will actually come of it, something that could…settle why it’d happened at all.”

Gallus looked down at the carpeted floor of the carriage for a moment. “And what if it doesn’t?” he asked. “What if this all just ends up a false alarm, or even a lie…like how Sludge had? Could you really put yourself through that again?”

Spike took a deep and empowering breath. “That’s why I’m committing to it,” he explained. “I…can’t explain how, but this…this feels different. Like this will actually uncover the truth, somehow…or at least get me closer to it.”

Gallus snorted again, but gentler this time. “I wish I could be that confident.”

“And that’s why I’m glad you’re here too,” Spike said, smiling faintly. “So we can both help each other get through this if it doesn’t…because who else would understand it but us?”

Gallus didn’t reply to that. But he did manage to smile too, taking some comfort in those words.

Meanwhile Spike was turning back to his paperwork, initially to resume working, but then, reconsidering, he instead scooped up the modest stack of papers and returned them to his bag. “Hey, so to make sure I had something to do during the trip, I brought along a deck of cards. You want to play?”

Gallus perked up, interested. “Sure,” he said, turning around so to face Spike fully. “Did you have a specific game in mind?”

“Not really, but it’s just a standard deck anyway, so we could do any of the typical card games,” Spike said as he brought out the deck, pulling off the rubber band holding it together. “So…I dunno…I guess we could play Go Fish, or Old Maid, or Crazy 8s, or…”

“Oh no no no no no,” Gallus quickly intervened, motioning with his talons to hand over the deck and, upon Spike doing so, proceeding to skillfully shuffle them. “If we’re gonna play cards, we’re definitely not playing some old lady’s game like Crazy 8’s.”

So, since he didn’t already know how to play, Gallus taught Spike how to play poker instead.

And by the time the carriage was flying over ocean several rounds later, Gallus had to admit—the little guy was catching on quick.

“Call,” Spike announced confidently as he added several of the candies they were using as chips into the pot.

Gallus glanced up from his hand of cards, raising an intrigued eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you confident,” he remarked.

Spike glanced up from his own cards, attitude unchanged. “There a problem with that?”

Gallus didn’t waver. “Depends on the hand you’ve got and if it’s really all that.”

Spike made a simple shrug, like it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. “You’re going to either to have to take the bet or fold to find out,” he replied matter-of-factly.

And still very confident, to the point Gallus would almost call it smug. Were this their first round, he would’ve interpreted it as a major tell for Spike, but he already knew not to take it at face value. Spike acted confident regardless of whether or not he actually had a good hand, and seemed to be his way to try throwing off his opponent by leaving them guessing. And darn if the little guy hadn’t gotten pretty good at it.

But Gallus wasn’t too shabby of a player himself, and after a long beat he smirked and added a handful of candies to the pot himself. “I raise,” he announced and proceeded to stare Spike down now that the ball was in his court again.

Spike returned it, for a long moment his confidence not even wavering once as the two waited for the other to blink. But at last Spike sighed, dropped the façade, and resignedly let his hand of cards fall to the table. It was a mere mishmash of mostly useless cards.

Gallus’s smirk grew. “Ha,” he said as he laid down his own hand, a simple straight that was more than enough to beat Spike’s otherwise miserable hand. “Oh, but I still gotta give you credit—you’re pretty darn convincing with that confident act of yours.”

“So what gave me away?” Spike asked, propping up his head with an elbow and otherwise taking his loss in stride.

“I dunno…just something in your eye, I guess,” Gallus admitted as he started resetting for another round. “Better luck next time, though.”

But before they could start again, Dream Chaser suddenly brought the carriage into a banking turn and began dropping altitude. “Hey, better pack it up back there, because we’re here!” the bat-winged stallion called back to them.

And so they were. The Griffish Isles were clearly visible as a long brown smudge out in the distance, but their actual destination wasn’t there but rather a small islet not much longer than a hoofball field, some miles out from the shore of the larger isles. There also wasn’t all that much on it, being mostly rocky, though it did have a sandy beach surrounding its outer edge and some light grasses growing more towards its middle. More important to them, however, was an airship parked along its far shore, just far enough inland to be above the tideline, which Dream Chaser brought in their carriage in for a smooth landing alongside of.

The modest white-with-blue-trim craft wasn’t the biggest of airships, but it was also no small craft, sitting at roughly a bit more than forty feet in overall length and two separate decks in layout. Especially interesting to Gallus, as he’d seen few airships with such a design, was that it had no exposed deck. Even its control cabin, which sat at the prow of the upper deck, was fully covered by large glass windows shaped to meld in with the rest of the ship’s glossy hull. Hung above it with enough gas to stay inflated while landed was its sizeable lifting envelope just shy of maybe double the length of the airship’s main body. Other than a few unique elements to its structure that Gallus assumed had to do with Gene Type’s work supposedly taking place aboard, it seemed like a fairly normal airship.

“Huh,” he remarked as he and Spike grabbed their bags and climbed out of the carriage. “I admit I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess from what the headmare and princess told me, I’d figured an airship that looked a bit more…sciencey.”

“Don’t let her exterior fool you,” Dream Chaser advised as he unhooked himself from the carriage’s harness and joined them. “I’ve seen research airships like this one before. They’re built to have a high lifting power for all the lab equipment and a large flight range for traveling long distances.” He nodded his grey head at the craft before them. “This one appears modified to be able to sustain flight in and around storms.”

“Makes sense considering that study of Gene Type’s that Twilight wouldn’t stop talking about,” Spike quipped as he looked the craft up and down, seeing no immediate sign of its operator. “So…the doctor knows we’re coming, right? Do we need to knock or…?”

But they didn’t have to do anything as the cargo hatch located on the ship’s side suddenly slid open and a smart looking unicorn stallion with pale green colored fur and a charcoal mane stepped out, carrying a satchel around his neck. Spying the three, he hurried over with a big grin, eagerly looking Spike and Gallus in particular up and down through his round spectacles.

“Hello, hello!” He greeted energetically, shaking the paws of Spike and Gallus each in turn. “You must be Gallus and Spike! I’m Dr. Gene Type, the scientist that’s been doing your genetic analyses.” He shook his head, releasing a jittering chuckle. “But obviously you knew that, that’s why you’re out here!” He chuckled again. “Apologies if I seem a bit scatterbrained, but I’ve got a lot running through my head about what needs to be done now that you’re here, and, oh, it’s actually somewhat surreal to finally meet you two in the flesh like this. When you do so many genetic analyses of creatures like I often do in my work, you sort of end up feeling like you already know quite a bit about a creature even before actually meeting them, so there’s something of a…disconnect…when you finally do, you see.”

“Uh, sure,” Gallus mumbled, a little taken aback by the stallion’s nervous energy. “Can’t really say the same for myself, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re both eager to get on with this, so if you’ll follow me aboard, we’ll get started,” Gene said, motioning for the two to follow them. He then abruptly remembered Dream Chaser when the guard proceeded to follow. “Oh yes, and you, of course. Sorry, what was your name? I wasn’t expecting escorts, much less from the Night Guard.”

“Second Lieutenant Dream Chaser, sir,” Dream introduced with a professional nod.

“Ah,” Gene said, returning the nod. He then tilted his head at the stallion. “No one was available from the Royal Guard then, I take it?”

“Basically, but don’t worry, I won’t be in the way,” Dream promised with a reassuring grin as they approached the parked airship. “I’m really just here to chaperone.”

“Of course, of course, can’t ever be too safe and all that,” Gene hummed to himself, gaze going unfocused as he became distracted in thought.

Spike cleared his throat as they arrived at the open cargo door. “So Twilight told us you think you might have a lead on figuring out our respective family lines?” he asked, hopeful for details.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I believe so!” Gene confirmed as he was brought back out of his reverie. He patted Spike on the back. “But while I’m sure you’d love to hear all of the details, there’s still a window of uncertainty to it so I dare not elaborate until we’ve done a couple more minor tests and settled those lingering uncertainties. Then we should know for certain one way or another, and can…act accordingly from there.” He gazed up at the sky. “Though we shouldn’t delay—naturally, none of you could’ve known before you arrived, but there is a major storm rolling this way.” He pointed one hoof out at the sea behind the airship, and sure enough, on the horizon was a dark grey smudge that could only be a storm slowly rolling in.

“Is that cause for concern?” Dream asked, alert.

“No, we shouldn’t be in any notable danger from it, particularly while inside the airship,” Gene explained as he turned to face them. “But you were all told about the research I’ve been conducting out here, yes? That storm will play a key shift in the environment here, and I will want to be in the proper position so to monitor it as it arrives. In fact…” he motioned Spike and Gallus on into the airship, “…you two head on inside. Through this cargo room and directly across the corridor is my lab, where we’ll do the testing. Go ahead and wait there for a moment while I have a word with the lieutenant about how we might want to handle the matter of the storm.”

Spike and Gallus hesitated, Gallus even frowning in slight puzzlement as leaving them unattended in a lab didn’t seem like a good idea, even if they had no intention of causing trouble. But Dream gave them both a confirming nod to go ahead, so they left the two ponies to talk and wandered into the airship as instructed. Through the cargo door was, as explained, a partially filled cargo room of little interest. On the other side though was another hatch leading into the airship’s lower deck corridor, which was slightly more decorated with various niceties though still built with a utilitarian design in mind. On the opposite side of the corridor were two more doors located at nearly opposite ends from each other.

Remembering Gene Type’s instructions, Gallus led Spike through the closer of the two, but found both doors opened into the scientist’s lab anyway, seeming to fill most of this side of the deck. As labs go, it was fairly routine; sterile, mostly white in color, and lined on most sides with worktables and cabinets filled with various equipment neatly stored away upon or within. A metal cart on wheels sat in the center with a series of supplies already set upon it. These presumably were part of the tests to be done shortly, but both of them knew better than to mess with it and left it alone. A pair of examination chairs sat nearby though, so they set down their bags and both took a chair to sit down, awkwardly making themselves comfortable while awaiting Gene Type’s return.

They were only waiting for a couple of minutes when they heard the cargo hatch slide shut again and Gene Type appeared in one of the lab doorways. “Good, good, just hold on a couple more minutes and then I’ll be right with you two,” he promised before vanishing from view again, heading further up the corridor where a stairway leading to the upper deck was.

Gallus snorted, folding his forelegs across his chest and leaning back in his seat, annoyed. “You’d think he’d have gotten everything prepared in advance for us already, seeing he knew we were coming and all,” he grumbled to himself.

“C’mon Gallus,” Spike said, who was more forgiving. “Like he said before, he’s got a lot on his mind at the moment, and we all have moments struggling to keep things straight while under pressure.”

Gallus sighed but didn’t dispute the point. “I just hope these tests he wants to do actually help and we aren’t wasting our time coming out here for this,” he said.

Silence fell for another moment as they continued waiting for Gene Type to come back, but it was soon interrupted by the sudden drone of motors winding up elsewhere in the airship. This drew curious looks from Gallus and Spike, but it wasn’t until they felt the deck jolt faintly underneath them that they started wondering what was up. A moment later the airship felt like it was shifting positions and Gallus felt his stomach drop lower in his gut, sort of like how it felt when riding up an elevator.

“Wait a minute,” he muttered upon noting this, getting to his feet and walking over to the lab’s far wall, the one he assumed ran along the airship’s outer hull. He set his talons upon it and leaned one ear close, feeling the thrum of engines pulse through the framework of the craft. “We’re moving—this flying tub is airborne.”

“What?” Spike asked, just as surprised as he jumped up too. “But why would we be flying anywhere?” He stopped to consider it for a second, rubbing his chin. “Do you think it’s because of that storm?”

Gallus considered it too. “Well, he did say it was part of his studies or whatever and wanted to be prepared for it…” he reasoned, thinking it a valid theory, “…but you’d think he’d have given us a little forewarning first…”

“Yeah, I didn’t think he was going to act on that until at least he got his tests on us started,” Spike added in agreement.

They fell silent for another moment to try and puzzle it through further. Before they could really speculate much though, Gene Type returned, strolling through a lab door and setting aside his satchel.

“Sorry about the delay,” he apologized, motioning for them to sit down again as he moved to the cart of supplies. “But as I explained, I needed to prep for that incoming storm and that required getting the airship in position first.”

“Explains why we’re airborne,” Gallus remarked as he sat back down, seeing he and Spike had been on the right track.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going especially far,” Gene Type reassured as he looked over the supplies laid out on the cart, making sure he had everything needed before proceeding. “Okay, so, first things first…let me get a scan of you both real quick.”

“Scans?” Gallus asked, surprised. “What for?”

“Oh, you know,” Gene Type said as he lit his horn and faced Gallus, “so to get comparative base readings and all that.”

Gallus didn’t really follow, but knew magical scans were harmless to the point one could barely feel them, so he shrugged his shoulders and let the unicorn begin scanning him with his magic.

While he did so, Spike had another thought. “Hey, where did Dream Chaser go?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t seen any sign of the bat pony since they came aboard, nor that he was aboard himself.

“Oh, he’s still with the carriage you both arrived in,” Gene Type replied distractedly as he finished with his scan of Gallus.

Gallus’s brow furrowed, confused. “What, he’s not coming with us?” he asked. “I figured he would be, since, y’know, he was escorting us or whatever.”

Gene Type made a nervous laugh as he turned to Spike to scan. “Well, the airship doesn’t have room to store your carriage aboard and he didn’t want to leave it unattended in case any nefarious creatures tried to steal it or something,” he nonetheless explained with little hesitation.

That explanation seemed to fit in Gallus’s brain. “Yeah, I suppose it is a pretty nice carriage,” he agreed. “I certainly wouldn’t leave it just sitting around back home in Griffonstone, so…”

But as Gene Type started scanning him, his horn flickering slightly as it did so, Spike was still confused. “Well, yeah, but…I figured we were more important to safeguard than some carriage,” he pointed out before making an amused shudder as the scan passed over him. “Heh, that kinda tingles.”

“You’ve still got me,” Gene Type assured, scans finished and now wheeling the cart over to them. “After all, I work for the Royal Guard. I can absolutely keep a close eye on you both, so we’re all covered. And Dream Chaser will still be in that same spot once we’re all done here.” He clapped his hooves together. “Now, I’ve kept this waiting long enough, so let’s get on with it.”

“All right, fine,” Spike replied slowly, pacified for the moment and now eyeing the vials and needles Gene Type had lain out. “Just what are these tests you want to do?”

“Well, the material you both sent me before were enough to get me on the right trail, but they alone can only go so far,” Gene explained. “So to begin with, I need to take some new samples that will give me clearer and more precise information about your respective genomes. And for that, I will need to take some blood samples for analysis.”

“Oh fun,” Gallus muttered sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“That’ll be the worst of it though, assuming things go as planned,” Gene then promised, picking up a needle with his magic and bringing it to Gallus, the closest and thereby the unlucky first to be pricked. “I’ll then need some time to analyze the samples, get the information to verify my previous findings. Assuming they’re still being upheld by that time, then I will have one final, but simple, test to conduct that should finalize everything. Now,” Gene proceeded to take a swab of medicinal alcohol to Gallus’s arm, “If you’re ready?”

“Yeah, go ahead and get it over with,” Gallus groaned, not looking forward to this but forcing himself to try and stay relaxed, letting the scientist do his work.

Gene proceeded, gently inserting the needle with careful precision. Gallus, to his credit, only winced faintly at the sharp pinch but otherwise was braving the blood draw without much reaction. “So anyway,” Gene began talking as he worked, so to distract Gallus, “I’m curious…how well do you two know each other? Is this your first time meeting?”

“Oh no, I’ve known Spike for a couple of years now,” Gallus answered, noticing that drew surprise from Gene.

“We’ve kinda just been acquaintances for most of that, but yeah,” Spike confirmed as he awkwardly watched Gene finish drawing his sample from Gallus. “It wasn’t really hard though, with Gallus a student and me part of the school staff…well, until I became royal advisor.”

“Yeah, you can thank Twilight Sparkle for that,” Gallus remarked with a smirk, glad the draw was over. He reached over to nudge Spike. “But that’s what you get for being so close with her—a bit of favoritism.” Spike rolled his eyes in good humor to that.

“Hmm,” Gene hummed as he floated aside the vial of Gallus’s blood and picked up a new one and a fresh needle before moving to Spike, who visibly tensed. “I’ll admit that’s rather interesting, considering circumstances.”

“Yeah, I thought it a heck of a coincidence too, but what can you do?” Gallus remarked, watching Spike tense up greatly as Gene Type worked to slip the needle in-between the dragon’s purple scales. “Relax, Spike, that’ll help take some of the edge off.”

“Trying,” Spike grunted, not really complying. “First time I’ve ever done this before.”

“Not surprised. Dragon hides are a bit tricky to get a needle into, so I imagine past doctors preferred avoiding it if possible,” Gene mumbled as he nonetheless got his needle in and began the draw. He half-glanced at the griffon again. “Now Gallus, I understand you’re from Griffonstone?”

“That’s right,” Gallus replied flatly. “Why?”

“I’m just looking at your blue coat and pondering the genetics of it,” Gene explained as he finished up with Spike. “A blue like that isn’t very typical of Griffonstone griffons, is it?”

“I guess. Probably more of a Griffish Isle coloring, but I wouldn’t really know.” Gallus gave Gene Type a questioning look. “You saying I could be descended from Griffish Isle griffons?”

Gene smiled wryly. “We should know for certain soon,” he promised as he set the vial of Spike’s blood with Gallus’s. “Now, I’ll get these examined, but like I said, it’ll take a few minutes, so let’s get you both somewhere to wait in better comfort than this sterile lab, hmm?”

Agreeing, Gallus and Spike let him escort them out of the lab and into the corridor once more. This time he lead them into a comfortable galley set in the nose of the airship, consisting of a table with a wraparound bench and windows looking outside as the airship flew. Here, Gene Type made sure they were seated comfortably and had a bowl of snacks before leaving to continue with his analyses, promising to try and be as quick as he could. Left to themselves in the galley, the two kept busy looking out the windows and watching where the airship was flying. For the moment, it was over even and open seas, but the oncoming storm was much closer now, filling one side of the sky as the airship flew perpendicular to its approach. On the other side though, the skies were clear and the islet they had previously been parked on still visible, though now a small speck too far away to make out any clear details.

Spike nevertheless tried, looking for any sign of Dream Chaser waiting for them there. “Gallus, did you think it weird the lieutenant stayed behind instead of coming with us?” he asked the griffon.

Gallus, who was also mulling things over his head, shrugged. “Maybe a little?” he admitted. “I guess it was kinda weird nobody foresaw that problem with the carriage…but honestly, I figured he’d know what he was doing either way.” He motioned out the window at the faintly visible islet. “Besides, I’m sure he can still see us from there, so in a way he’s still keeping an eye on us.”

Spike gazed out at the islet for a long moment, not looking reassured. “I suppose.”

Gallus watched him for a second. “You know, you were the one who said you felt confident this would all work out,” he remarked pointedly.

“And I still do, but…” Spike shook his head and turned back around in his seat to face Gallus. “…I don’t know. Ever since we came aboard something just…”

“…seemed off?” Gallus finished, and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ve kinda been feeling the same. At first I thought it was just how…jittery…Gene Type’s been, but…” he sighed. “I don’t know…maybe I’m being paranoid.” Yet he still bore an air of hesitation while looking Spike in the eye. “But my gut says something isn’t quite adding up.”

Spike bit his lip. “I mean, if you think it’s important, I’m willing to hear you out on it.”

Gallus averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s the thing though. All I can say is that it feels like we’ve been left out of something, but…I don’t have the evidence to prove it. I’m not sure there even is any and I’m not just…looking too much into it.”

Spike mulled it over for a moment. He heard thunder distantly rumble from the approaching storm, seeming to reflect the mood nicely. “Well, if it helps,” he offered, “I sort of feel the same.” He glanced around for a moment. “But I think, since we’re already here, we might as well let Gene Type finish his tests. After all, I can’t think of any reason why we shouldn’t.”

“I can’t either,” Gallus admitted. He managed a faint grin. “Besides…I still kinda want to know what he finds out.”

Spike nodded, sharing the grin. “Me too.”

So they continued waiting, hoping for the best.
> Humor Me
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were there in the galley for a good number of minutes, munching on the provided snacks and watching the encroaching storm draw ever nearer. Gallus wondered if they were going to end up flying into it soon unless something altered their course, and tried to decide if that was Gene Type’s intention or not, considering the stallion had never particularly clarified the matter.

But finally, Gene Type returned in good spirits. “Good news!” he announced upon entering. “The blood tests have verified everything I’ve determined in previous tests. It’s looking very likely that we’re absolutely on the right track after all.”

Gallus and Spike perked up at that with a mixture of both excitement and anxiousness. “So what now?” Spike asked as he and Gallus stood up. “Didn’t you say there was still one last test you wanted to do?”

“Indeed!” Gene confirmed and motioned for them to follow. “It will be the final confirmation I need for all of this.”

As they moved back into the lab though, Gallus couldn’t help but take note of how Gene Type appeared to be carrying himself entirely differently now. Instead of the nervous uncertainty he conveyed before, now he seemed filled with a resolute excitement. Given circumstances, this should’ve been understandable…but something about it gave Gallus pause. “So are you ever going to tell us just what this lead of yours is anyway?” he asked as they filed through the lab door. “Or do you intend to leave us in suspense forever?”

“It’s…complicated,” Gene admitted with brief hesitation. “I don’t think you’d be able to understand without context, but this last test will help with that.”

Gallus harrumphed, unable to shake the feeling that Gene Type was stalling.

Spike apparently was unfazed though. “So what exactly is this test, anyway?” he asked as he and Gallus retook their spots in the examination seats.

“I promise it will be very simple,” Gene pledged, moving the cart in front of them again—it had since been cleared of the previous test’s tools and replaced with another set. But instead of taking up any of these implements, he proceeded to turn around and head towards a storage locker at the back of the room. “But there’s something I need to show you two first.”

He pulled open the locker and, using his magic, pulled out a roughly book-shaped object wrapped in cloth. He then returned and placed the flat object onto the cart with a gentle but notable thump—whatever it was, it had some weight to it—and started unfolding the cloth covering it. “Do either of you know what this is?” he asked as he revealed it and, grabbing the edges of the cloth with his magic, turned it around so it faced Spike and Gallus the right way up.

It was a flat tablet hewn from a dark colored stone, its front etched with carved markings. At the top was a stylized crest featuring a dragon’s head flanked on either side by matching wings. Below that were three paragraphs of lettering, all of which in languages other than Ponish. Gallus didn’t recognize the tablet at all, but Spike did and jolted upright in shock.

“That’s a bloodline stone!” he exclaimed, jabbing a claw at the tablet. “This should be with all of the others in the archive cave!” He gaped at Gene Type. “How do you even have this?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s a bloodline stone?” Gallus swiftly interrupted, not following.

“It’s a type of dragon artifact,” Spike rapidly explained, turning to face Gallus. “It’s used to track who is or is not part of their respective bloodlines.”

“Each tablet is magically coded to a particular bloodline and will glow should anyone of that bloodline come into contact with it,” Gene elaborated, adjusting his spectacles. “That way, if anyone is uncertain if another is a blood relation for whatever reason, they can use a bloodline stone to sort it out.” He paused. “Well, up to a certain extent at least—the bloodlines still shift around after a few generations, enough to constitute a new bloodline and in turn meriting the creation of new stones to compensate.” He motioned to the tablet. “That’s actually the story for this one, in fact. It was created for a relatively recent bloodline.”

“So…this is a purely dragon thing then?” Gallus said, making sure he understood correctly.

“That’s right,” Spike confirmed.

“Then why does it also have ancient griffon writing on it?”

Gallus pointed to the characters engraved on the tablet. The first two paragraphs were written with aggressive, curving, characters that were clearly part of an old draconic language. But the third and final paragraph used completely different characters composed of scratchier and straighter lines. Gallus couldn’t read what they said, but he had seen enough examples of the letters growing up to recognize the all-but dead griffon language on sight.

Spike gaped at the tablet again, realizing this could be no ordinary bloodline stone. The implications reeling in his head, Spike’s awestruck gaze wandered up to Gene Type. “Gallus is right,” he murmured softly. “What does this have to do with us?”

Gene Type used his magic to nudge the tablet a bit closer to him. “Touch it, and we’ll find out.”

Both Spike and Gallus pulled back in shock at this request, its significance not at all lost on them. Gallus reacted with a negative expression, questioning the intent behind it, but Spike actually responded with visible fear at the idea. “No…I-I-I couldn’t!” he sputtered, leaning away from the tablet like he was suddenly afraid it would bite him.

“I can see why you’d be uncertain, but…” Gene attempted to reassure.

“You don’t understand!” Spike suddenly snapped in a panic. Then, regretting the outburst, he visibly tried to calm himself. Nevertheless, his breathing accelerated while staring at the stone lying before him with trepidation. “…after Ember became the dragon lord, she had me come to the Dragon Lands so to try and find a matching bloodline stone, hoping we’d figure out what my dragon bloodline was, who my actual parentage was. We were at it for hours, and must’ve tried every stone the dragons had in the archive cave.” He hung his head sadly. “…but none of them glowed. None at all.”

Gene Type didn’t relent. “As I already indicated…this stone hasn’t been kept in the archive cave,” he reminded patiently.

Spike still hesitated, his eyes filled with a mix of competing emotions, among which was a faint glimmer of hope…but it was nearly snuffed out again by the fear of the stone not reacting if he touched it. Uncertain, he gazed around at the others questioningly, clearly looking for guidance. Gene Type only looked intent and expectant, but Gallus gave him a look of support. So Spike looked back at the tablet and, drawing what strength he could, he hesitantly reached out, briefly jerking back at the last second, before finally resting his claw tip atop of it.

Immediately, the tablet began to light up, its etchings rapidly filling with a magical green glow, sweeping outward from where Spike touched it like a circular shockwave until it had all lit up.

It went dark again just as quickly when, with a yelp, Spike whisked his claw back as if it had been scalded, the little dragon gasping like he had just ran a marathon with how winded he suddenly seemed to be. Gene Type, however, was delighted by this.

“Good, good!” he declared eagerly before again nudging the tablet with his magic, moving it in Gallus’s direction. “Now you,” he patiently asked the griffon.

Gallus, already stunned by its reaction to Spike, just stared at him. “But I’m not a dragon,” he reminded.

“Then why are there griffon characters on it?” Gene asked, motioning to the letters in question. When Gallus continued to stare at him, he added, “Just…humor me.”

Gallus’s eyes narrowed before regarding the tablet for a long moment. He then glanced around at the others like Spike had, debating to himself. They’d all looked at him with patient expectance too, wondering what would happen. Gallus caught Spike’s eye and he made a small nod of encouragement—his way of reassuring that, whatever happened, it’d work out. Gallus wasn’t sure he believed that, lacking confidence the stone would do something if he touched it. But if so, then he might as well just get it over with. So, with this decided, he resolutely pressed a talon onto its surface.

Like for Spike, it lit up immediately at his touch.

His heart leaping into his throat, Gallus whipped his talon off of it too, his mind reeling from implications seemingly too ludicrous to even consider. “…what?” he breathed in shock.

Gene Type, however, was crowing in victory. “I knew it!” he exclaimed, slamming a hoof onto the cart. “I KNEW IT! Ha haaaaaa—I knew you two were the ones!”

Spike was trying to get his panicked breathing under control. “But…but what does this mean?” he gasped, trying to understand.

“It means you two are precisely the creatures I thought you to be,” Gene Type responded resolutely, giggling with glee as he wrapped the tablet back up in its cloth and wheeling the cart to one side. He jabbed a hoof at them. “There is far more to the both of you than it appears.”

“What the heck does that mean?” Gallus demanded, wanting answers.

“It means I’ve succeeded, after so many moons, after so much work!” Gene stated, not exactly clarifying anything. The unicorn leaned back and pressed his hooves to his face with an excited laugh. “It means we can finally bring this matter to a close at long last! No more loose ends!”

“…so many moons?” Spike repeated timidly, not understanding.

“…We?” Gallus repeated, catching onto separate implications.

Gene Type didn’t seem interested in explaining though, starting to calm down from his initial rush of excitement before turning to the other tools on the cart. “You know, it’s almost a pity,” he babbled as he worked, prepping a new pair of needles and syringes, presumably for his two test subjects. “It seems so weird that after so long, this resolution is going to be so, so, very fleeting. I almost wish I could delay just so to better study your genetics—oh, your genetic codes must be marvelous from the scientific perspective.”

“What…what are you talking about?” Gallus demanded, a sick feeling starting to settle in his stomach. He heard Spike heave a sigh from beside him, the dragon too lost in flustered thought and too stunned to comment himself. This alone was concerning to Gallus, so the fact Gene Type seemed so indifferent about it only unsettled him more. Something was wrong here, very wrong.

Gene Type, however, was focused on filling the two syringes with clear serum from an unmarked bottle. “But this final step must be done regardless,” he murmured. “It’s already been delayed for far too long.” He held up one of the syringes with his magic to ensure it was filled accordingly. “I am sorry though. You both seem like you’d be decent enough creatures, if it weren’t for the matter of your lineage.”

“Lineage?” Gallus repeated, only growing more alarmed. His body tensed as it flooded with adrenaline, feeling like he needed to run and not look back. He eyed the syringes Gene Type was prepping warily. “What’s in those?”

“Somulose,” Gene Type replied simply, replacing the cap to the mysterious bottle.

Gallus went still. “…what’s that for?”

“Euthanization, I’m afraid.”

“Euthani—?” Gallus choked on the word as realization struck. “Euthaniza—!”

He started to leap in Spike’s direction on the half-formed thought of grabbing him and running, but Gene Type was faster. With one flick of his horn, previously hidden restraints suddenly sprung free from the examination chair and wrapped themselves around all four of Gallus’s legs, went taunt, and then pulled him back into the chair, effectively pinning him. At the same time, identical straps likewise restrained Spike, while also slapping on a muzzle that completely covered his snout.

“Mmf!” Spike let out a muffled cry. A faint flicker of flame around the edges of the muzzle showed he was trying to use his firebreath, but the magicked muzzle kept him from doing so. “MMMMFF!” he continued crying as he squirmed fruitlessly at his bindings.

Gallus also struggled against his own restraints, but they kept his limbs tightly pinned down, except for his left foreleg which had been raised enough when the restraints appeared that it hadn’t gotten as tight a hold around his wrist. Given enough time and struggling, he was confident he could eventually slip it free, but he wasn’t sure he’d have that long as Gene Type now loomed towards him, the lethal needle ready in his magic.

“Why are you doing this?” Gallus demanded as he desperately struggled to free himself.

“I am sorry,” Gene Type repeated, and all the more unsettling, he seemed like he actually meant it. “But you are both too dangerous to be allowed to live.”

“No…no…” Gallus repeated, struggling still and hearing Spike’s muffled screams as they both watched Gene Type raise the tip of the needle towards Gallus’s jugular. Gallus leaned his head as far away from it as his restraints would allow.

“I recommend you just relax,” Gene urged as he tilted closer, struggling to line up the intended injection. “Think of it as just falling into a deep sleep…”

It was at that point that Gallus, desperate and freeing his loose paw taking too long, head-butted Gene Type in the face. With a cry, the stallion stumbled backwards, but with a quick shake of his head, he lunged back, intent on plunging the needle into Gallus, but by then Gallus had liberated his paw and punched the unicorn in the side of his head as hard as he could. This time Gene crashed to the floor, and not only did he not recover immediately, the deadly syringe also shattered upon the floor. Gallus took the chance to focus on freeing his other limbs as quickly as he could.

When he looked up again, Gene Type was up and desperately charging him again, having grabbed the other syringe and brandishing it menacingly, so Gallus grabbed the back of the examination chair for support and bucked the unicorn as hard as he could with both hind legs. This hurled Gene backwards to crash into the cart, tipping it over with a noisy clatter and another smash as the bottle of drug was now the one to shatter on the floor. However the second syringe simply rolled across the floor intact so Gallus, knowing the danger was by no means over, immediately turned to Spike. At first he went for the dragon’s arm restraints, but Spike made muffled jerks to his muzzle instead so Gallus ripped off that first. The second he did so, Spike started spewing jets of emerald green flames in a sweeping pattern from side to side of the lab, doing so just in time to force Gene Type—up on his hooves once again—to back away and seek cover or risk being burned. Spike managed to keep this up, stopping only to gulp in another quick breath of air before immediately continuing, until Gallus had undone all of the straps.

The moment they were, they both bolted for the closest door out of the lab. “What are we going to do?” Spike shouted as they fled.

“We’re jumping ship!” Gallus replied as they barreled out into the corridor.

Spike was visibly disoriented in his panic though. “Which way to that cargo hatch?”

Gallus turned in time to see a wild-eyed Gene Type suddenly burst through the lab’s other door, the remaining syringe held in his magic and geared to throw. Gallus quickly grabbed their door and flung it fully open as a shield just in time to hear the syringe hit it and shatter. “Not that way!” he declared, pushing Spike in the other direction towards the stairs leading to the upper deck.

Spike obeyed, but clearly saw the obvious downside. “Is there even a way off the ship in this direction?” he demanded as they scampered up the stairs.

“We’ll smash a window if we have to!” Gallus vowed as they burst into the upper deck.

With the obvious sounds of Gene giving chase behind them, they didn’t slow and instead rushed down the new corridor, eyes zipping back and forth as they sought something, anything, that could help them. At the other end of the corridor was an open door through which a chair could be seen, giving Gallus an idea that would at least buy them time.

“This way!” he commanded as they continued straight to the open door. The moment they were through, Gallus grabbed the chair from where it sat next to a central table and, slamming the door shut behind him, jammed the chair under its latch. He did so just in time, as a mere second later, Gene Type was heard slamming into the door, scrambling to try and force it open again, but for the moment, the chair was keeping it pinned shut. “Okay, I don’t know if that’s bought us much time, but it’s something!” he said, turning around to take in the room for the first time.

To his surprise, they found themselves in the airship’s control cabin. In other circumstances, Gallus would’ve marveled that an airship of this size had it. Fully enclosed from the elements, its most eye-catching feature was its large and sweeping forward window, which arced from floor to ceiling and wrapped around the entire front third of the control room, giving a magnificent view outside the airship. Centered with it was the helm, its controls apparently on some kind of autopilot as it was still keeping the airship on course despite no one maintaining it. Closer to the back of the room were two control boards, one on the room’s left wall and another placed on the right. Centered in-between these two control panels was the table clearly meant for mapping and navigational purposes.

But it wasn’t immediately clear how any of this helped them. Gallus’s eyes first went to the helm, but realized changing the airship’s course wouldn’t exactly stop their pursuer, and besides, the approaching storm was now closer than ever, so much so it filled the left half of the forward window with its dark clouds. In fact, now that Gallus thought about it, he could feel the airship beginning to be buffeted by the gusts the storm was throwing their way. Either way, it didn’t make for ideal airship flying conditions. So hearing Gene Type thump against the blocked door again, Gallus ruled out that option and turned his attention to the other two control panels. The left one appeared to simply be for ballast control, but the other was…

“A radio!” Gallus declared, feeling a flare of hope as he rushed towards it, Spike following closely. “Maybe we can use this to call for help!”

“Well, be quick about it!” Spike urged as he hung close to the griffon, clearly scared. He tensed as Gene Type was heard thumping on the door for a third time. “I don’t think he’s going to be giving up!”

Gallus’s talons scrambled over the radio’s controls, switching it on. He only knew the basics of how it worked and was briefly uncertain what frequency to set it to before he spied a switch labeled EMERGENCY TRANSMIT—ALL CHANNELS and figured that applied to their situation perfectly. “Okay, uh,” he began as he pulled the microphone close, trying to decide what to transmit. “Ah, mayday, mayday, this is…actually I haven’t the foggiest idea what this tub’s name is, do you?”

“No,” Spike replied.

“Oh forget it—this is a research airship belonging to Gene Type, I know that much, and we’re aboard it, and we’re in danger! So, anyone hearing this, we need help ASAP! We’re…we’re, uh, we’re practically skimming a big storm out over sea, and, uh, we’re…droppings, what’s our location?”

“Near the Griffish Isles.”

“…Near the Griffish Isles, like, a couple miles out or so…I think we’re to the east?...there’s this little islet, and then we’re somewhere in the same area as that, and, and…” Gallus heard Gene slam into the door behind them again, and not only did he hear the door slip a little, he saw magical sparks fly from the latch suggesting the unicorn had begun using his magic to force it open. “…look, we just need help! Anyone hearing this, send help, fast as you can! We are in serious danger here! We’re trapped and cornered aboard this tub, and I don’t know how long we can stay safe! Gene Type’s gone absolutely mad, he’s gonna kill us if—”

The door suddenly burst open, throwing the chair that had been pinning it aside, and a somewhat disheveled and glasses-less Gene Type stormed in, horn already alight and whipping around for his intended targets. Gallus tackled Spike and pushed themselves to the floor just in time for a bolt of magic to skim over their heads and explode the radio, leaving only a crater of broken circuits that snapped and arced with electricity.

“You just had to make this harder for yourselves, didn’t you?” Gene snarled as he advanced on his prey, Gallus and Spike scrambling for the central table to use for cover. “I was trying to be courteous and make this as painless as possible, but you just had to go and mess that up, so now we have to do this the by far more agonizing way!”

He again fired his horn at them and they ducked as the reckless shot sheared past and instead skimmed the helm. Something within it loudly popped on impact and suddenly the ship’s wheel started spinning freely, the deck lurching violently when the airship veered off-course in response. Soon the storm filled the forward window entirely as the craft turned freely into it, but the three creatures within barely noticed as the unexpected heaving caused them all to stumble and were now scrambling to beat each other back to their feet. Seeing Gene Type distracted though, Gallus grabbed Spike’s arm and ran for the door that’d been left hanging open. But before they reached it, the door slammed shut again and its latch sparked briefly as it was magically sealed.

“Not so fast!” Gene Type declared as they turned to see him advancing on them again, horn still menacingly lit. “I cannot let you escape, not now!”

“Well TOUGH NOOGIES!” Gallus unflatteringly bellowed back at him, grabbing the chair left on the floor and hurling it at the stallion.

Gene Type dodged it, but this resulted in the chair bouncing off the throttle control next to the helm, harshly bumping the lever all the way forward. The engines roared to full power and the airship lurched as it rapidly accelerated. The sudden jolt caused every loose object in the cabin to be tossed backwards, including the three creatures, again sparing Gallus and Spike Gene’s wrath for another second as the stallion lost his aim. But he also recovered swiftly, so when the central table also tipped over onto its side, Spike and Gallus dove behind it for cover. Another magical blast from Gene Type struck the table’s edge as they dove, before the unicorn growled at yet another miss. But he didn’t immediately pursue them, leaving Gallus worried what the stallion might try next while desperately seeking some way to escape this alive.

He then heard Gene Type breathe a sigh. “Look,” he said, sounding like he was trying to forcibly calm his voice. “I can understand your…poor…reaction to all this. That was why I was trying to make this easier for you both.”

Gallus couldn’t help but scoff at that. “Anything that still ends in our deaths is hardly what I’d call easier!” he retorted.

“Why are you doing this at all?” Spike demanded from where he huddled next to Gallus, clearly frightened. Without thinking, Gallus wrapped a wing around him protectively.

“You don’t understand!” Gene stressed. Gallus tensed as he heard the pony start to step towards the table. “You two are not the creatures you think you are, and for that reason alone, we simply cannot take the risk. I am truly sorry, but…there’s simply no other way.”

“But why?” Gallus stressed, “At least explain it to us!” He was trying to keep Gene Type talking while continuing to seek an escape. But he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t also make them easy targets for Gene Type, and his hoofsteps coming closer along with the continued bumps and shudders of the airship as it flew uncontrolled into the storm was only giving him the sense that time was running out.

And Gene wasn’t interested in stalling any longer. “There is no time,” he stressed as he started to walk around the table. “I was instructed to not delay acting on this.”

Spike suddenly caught Gallus’s eye, bewildered. “Instructed by who?” he hissed.

But Gallus didn’t reply, motioning to Spike to keep back, desperately hoping for salvation as time ran out to come up with a plan. He had a barely formed plan of tackling Gene as the unicorn finally came into view and immediately turned his horn towards them, but Spike reacted first, leaping forward to breathe a ball of fire at the attacking stallion. Surprised, Gene reared up and stumbled backwards trying to avoid getting burned.

Gallus then prepared to tackle him anyway, hopefully to finally subdue Gene Type. But fate had other ideas as, before he could pounce, the airship suddenly jerked violently to one side, as if something had slammed into it. Thrown roughly to the floor with Spike piling on top of him and hearing Gene gasp as he overbalanced and tumbled out of view, Gallus heard the frame of the airship creak and groan beneath him, as well as something faintly cracking. He feared for a split second that the craft was about to fly apart. But instead, the airship automatically leveled itself, and while the flight remained turbulent within the storm that had, by now, completely swallowed it, things stabilized enough to pick himself up and get ready to continue the fight.

He instead stopped in horror. Spike made a whimpering gasp as he saw too.

Gene Type had stumbled backwards into the destroyed radio, falling directly upon the broken circuits that had continued to snap and arc with electricity this whole time. Every muscle in the stallion’s body was visibly tense, his eyes staring wide and unfocused, his head thrown back with his mouth open as if frozen in a silent yell. He wasn’t moving, but his horn was sporadically snapping with electrical energy in an uncontrolled manner.

For a moment, Gallus just stared, stunned at the sight and already fearing the worst, before reason caught up to him and he turned to urgently scan the control cabin. Finally spying a small fuse box tucked into the back corner of the room, he hurried over and popped it open, scanning the switches within. Finding the one labeled “RADIO,” he flipped it off. The moment he did so, Gene Type went immediately limp, flopped to the floor, and remained still, eyes staring blankly and unseeing at nothing.

Spike’s face paled as he stared at the limp pony. “He’s…he’s not…is he…?”

“Yeah,” Gallus confirmed solemnly as he returned to Spike’s side numbly. “I, uh…I think he’s…” he made an uncomfortable swallow, “…dead.”

Spike suddenly gagged. “Oh Celestia,” he managed to get out before urgently whipping around and, spying a wastebasket, ran to it and began emptying his stomach into it. Averting his eyes, Gallus allowed him a moment to do so while he tried to come to terms with this himself. Fortunately, Spike’s vomiting was over as swiftly as it began, but the dragon continued gripping the sides of the wastebasket unsteadily, his eye’s looking horrified. “We killed him,” he finally breathed after a long moment.

“Hey, no,” Gallus immediately objected, coming to the young dragon’s side. “If anything, it was an accident, and even then it was obviously in self-defense! The guy was trying to murder us in cold blood, Spike!”

“That doesn’t mean I like it!” Spike snapped back, before shaking his head and sinking to the floor.

And Gallus found that as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t argue that point, looking back at Gene’s electrocuted body in dismay. A part of him still pitied the poor stallion, despite his dreadful actions. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his beak for a moment before another rolling rumble going through the airship brought him back to reality. “Look, we’ll…deal with that more later,” he promised, pulling Spike back to his feet. “We’ve got bigger issues to think about now.”

“Yeah…yeah, okay,” Spike agreed numbly, but looking eager for some kind of distraction.

“Okay,” Gallus confirmed with a nod and started towards the helm. “So how about we start by getting this tub out of the storm, huh?”

“Okay,” Spike said, following him to the helm. He looked it up and down. “So, uh…do you know how to fly an airship?”

“Ah…not really,” Gallus admitted as he also surveyed the controls. “Do you?”

“…kind of?” Spike replied with an uncertain shrug. “I mean, Thorax is pretty big on airships, so I’ve probably gleaned something from listening to him go on about them, but…I don’t know if that’s enough to fly one…”

“Well, it can’t be too hard,” Gallus reasoned as he wrapped his talons around the ship’s wheel and started to gently turn it to the left. “We’re both flying creatures, right? Turning this can’t be much different from turning in that.”

Spike looked out the forward window at the storm swirling all around them, noting how extremely limited their visibility had become. “Do you even know the right way to turn?” He asked as he realized he had no idea what the airship’s position even was now.

“We were somewhere to the east of the isles, right?” Gallus reasoned as he leaned his head over to look at the ship’s compass. “So if we just make sure we’re heading in the opposite direction of that…” but he trailed off upon realizing the magical attack that’d skimmed the helm earlier had also shattered the compass, leaving it completely nonfunctional. “…ah, we’ll just try and turn around and go back the way we came anyway. We’ll eventually reach the end of the storm if we fly for long enough, right?”

But it was right about then that he realized a new problem—even though he was turning the ship’s wheel further and further left, the airship didn’t seem to be responding. Growing concerned, he turned the wheel all the way to the left as far as it would go. After a moment, he then spun it all the way to the right. But the only wavering in course the airship made throughout all of that was from the buffeting of the wind and rain, and as far as Gallus could tell, that wasn’t really turning them much at all.

“…well, that’s a problem,” he noted aloud, feeling his heart sink.

Spike was biting his lip and eyeing the long scorch mark that’d been left in the side of the helm. “Gene Type’s attack must have done something to damage the steering,” he guessed miserably.

Gallus thumped a fist angrily on the side of the wheel. He forced himself to take a deep calming breath before he lost his already considerably frayed cool. “…okay, well, let’s at least try to slow this tub down before we get too much further away from where we want to be,” he reasoned aloud and reached for the throttle control.

But he noted in dismay that the lever was stuck. Frowning, he wrapped both sets of talons around it and started tugging with all his strength. When that still didn’t budge, he planted both rear paws at its base for extra leverage and put all his body weight into it. Spike quickly jumped in to assist by grabbing Gallus around the middle and pulling too. At first it didn’t seem to be doing anything until Gallus felt the lever jiggle slightly and, hopes high, he gave it another big heave.

Instead, the lever yanked free from its base with a loud snap, sending both dragon and griffon tumbling to the deck floor. Picking himself up, Gallus held up the lever still in his talons, then at the base it had snapped cleanly from right at the joint, then took in how the steady hum of the engines hadn’t changed at all, suggesting they were still going at full throttle and realized they now had no control over that either.

“GAAAAAH!” Gallus yelled, throwing the now useless lever onto the floor before burying his face into both paws.

Spike, meanwhile, seemed to shrink in upon himself in worry, claws playing with the advisor’s medallion around his neck. “Does…this mean what I think it means?”

“That we’re stuck flying into a storm on a runaway airship with a dead guy?” Gallus recapped bitterly. “Yeah…it does.”
> Runaway
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first, Gallus was of the opinion that they just abandon ship now while they had the chance and fly for safety back at the Griffish Isles, or at least that little islet where Dream Chaser had parked, before either got too far away. If they had no way to control this wayward airship, then as far as he was concerned, they could just leave it to go wherever it eventually ended up. Surely their safety was more important than the airship’s at this point anyway. But once they had managed to force open the control cabin door again and down to the cargo hatch leading off the craft, Gallus’s confidence was whisked away upon seeing just how turbulent the storm really was, as well as the roiling waves of the sea just barely visible in the thick misty haze of the heavy rainstorm.

Spike, skeptical of his plan from the start, considered this proof. “This is a bad idea, Gallus,” he stressed as they stood in the open cargo hatch, looking out at the storm raging outside. He jabbed a claw into the swirling mess. “I don’t think I can even fly in that!”

“I’ll carry you if I have to,” Gallus reasoned, though he wasn’t sure his own flying could support both Spike’s weight and keep himself stable in such a storm.

Spike had even less faith. “All the way back to land?” he questioned doubtfully, “Because I don’t want to end up having to swim for it halfway in choppy seas like that.” He pointed down at the crashing waves of the ocean below them. “Besides, do you even know which way we’d need to fly to get back to land? Because I certainly don’t anymore, and this storm isn’t exactly helping with visibility!”

“Well, what would you suggest instead?” Gallus challenged. “Just stay here on a runaway airship we can’t control?”

“It’s still giving us shelter from that storm!” Spike argued back. “Besides, remember what Dream Chaser said. This thing was designed to fly in conditions like this, and sure, the ride might be very turbulent…” this point was timely punctuated by the deck heaving as a powerful gust of wind briefly slammed into the craft, “…but it’s otherwise still stable enough that the storm’s probably not going to crash us into the sea. I think the engines running at full throttle like this is actually helping us to cut through the worst of it, so arguably, even though we can’t steer it, we’re still safer here than we are out there!”

Gallus groaned, but begrudgingly saw Spike’s point. “Somebody’s going to come looking for us eventually though,” he pointed out.

“Especially if anyone heard that message we tried to transmit on the radio,” Spike agreed with a nod, “And they’ll have a heck of an easier time finding us in the more visible airship that they’d already know to look for than two creatures trying to fly in that mess, or worse still, trying to swim for shore in it!”

Gallus groaned again, but unable to come up with any counters, he pulled the cargo hatch closed, shutting out the storm’s roaring. “So what should we do instead?” he asked again now that they no longer had to yell over the wind. “Just sit here and wait, hoping somebody will eventually find us? Because we can’t do that forever, you know.”

“No, the batteries for the engines will eventually run dry and then we’ll be dead in the water,” Spike agreed. “But I saw the gauges for that back in the control cabin and, assuming they aren’t broken too, we’ve got hours before that happens. And I’m sure there’re plenty of supplies aboard to keep us fed in the meantime.”

Gallus folded his forepaws grumpily. “I don’t want to sit here and just pray nothing else bad happens,” he grumbled.

Spike pondered that point for a moment, pacing back and forth. “Well…the helm controls may be broken, but surely Gene Type has tools or parts to fix things like that somewhere onboard, so…maybe we can fix them?”

So that became their new plan of action—to try and restore at least some control of the airship. Fortunately, it didn’t take much searching to uncover not only a box of tools but also the operator’s manual for the airship, which included basic instructions on how to maintain key components. Returning to the control cabin then, they set to work, Gallus taking a shot at repairing the throttle control while Spike worked to see if he could figure out what was wrong with the ship’s wheel, both consulting the manual set between them as needed.

Though there was still the stress of getting themselves to a more lasting safety than they currently had, a sense of calm started to descend upon them as they worked, the first they’d gotten since the fight with Gene Type. And as Gallus proceeded to take apart the housing for the throttle control, his mind reflected back on everything that’d transpired thus far, trying to puzzle out just why it’d taken place at all, because now that he thought about it, Gene Type never made that very clear. He glanced over at where the deceased stallion still lay, now covered with a tarp they’d found while looking for the tools, and began reviewing in his head some of the few things Gene had spouted before his accidental death.

“…he said we,” Gallus murmured aloud as he worked.

“Huh?” Spike prompted, glancing up from the uncovered inner workings of the helm’s back.

“Gene Type,” Gallus remarked, nodding his head over at where he lay. “He said we, like he wasn’t the only one who’d been planning this.”

Spike glanced leerily at the dead pony, the thought of which still unnerved him. “I hope not,” he mumbled as he turned his attention back to the helm. “Because that could mean we’re not out of danger yet.”

“We’re arguably still not out of danger now,” Gallus stressed.

“Yeah, that’s very comforting of you to say, Gallus,” Spike deadpanned back.

“I’m just being realistic,” Gallus argued as he went back to dismantling the throttle control. “And if that is the case, then whatever this mess we’ve stumbled into is, it may go way deeper than some lone scientist suddenly flying off the handle.” He frowned to himself, the implications mounting the more he thought about it. “Which could mean him wanting us dead was way more planned out than it looks. I can only hope him dying instead has put a wrench in whatever those plans are, enough to give us a fighting chance.”

Spike scowled. “I just wish nobody had to die at all,” he growled.

Gallus glanced his way, somewhat surprised at the uncharacteristic resentment. “You’re that bothered by it, huh?” he asked gently.

“And you aren’t?” Spike challenged back. “Why aren’t you more bothered about it?”

Gallus frowned. “Don’t go asking questions you don’t want the answers to.”

Spike eyed him for a moment, but getting the impression Gallus wouldn’t elaborate, he didn’t press. “What I want to know is the reason why at all?” he said, changing the subject.

“Mmm,” Gallus hummed in agreement. “There clearly was at least one, but…heck if I know what.”

“Well…it clearly concerns us somehow.”

“Yeah, but that’s the part I don’t get.” Gallus scratched at his scalp briefly. “I mean, you I can sort of understand, but why me? I’m nobody!”

“You’re not nobody, Gallus,” Spike reassured before considering the matter a second longer. “You know, seeing the reasons we came here at all, it might actually have something to do with our ancestry, like Gene Type said.”

“That’s assuming that wasn’t just an excuse to lure us into a trap,” Gallus reasoned as he began removing the final pieces to uncover the inner workings of the throttle control.

Spike frowned for a second. “But if that’s true…” he began slowly, “…then why did Gene Type even bother conducting those tests on us at all?”

Gallus paused as he set aside the cover, considering the point, but he was swiftly distracted once he saw inside the throttle control’s mechanisms. “Oh great,” he bemoaned.

“What?” Spike asked, leaning over to look, but he swiftly saw what the problem was and hissed.

The scant little of the throttle control lever that hadn’t snapped off from where it linked with the mechanism’s key joint was notably bent to one side, twisting the joint itself in such a brutal way that it was immediately clear why the lever had not only been unwilling to move in the first place, but also probably why it had snapped off instead under the strain.

Gallus grabbed at the mangled joint with his claws, feeling around it, but ultimately only confirmed what was already obvious. “Yeah, that’s irreparably jammed,” he bemoaned. “No way we’re fixing it ourselves.”

“Not unless we replaced it with a new one,” Spike reasoned with a heavy sigh. “Not that we have a replacement.”

“Must’ve hit the lever with that chair a lot harder than I thought,” Gallus groused before pressing his fists into his temples in frustration. “Throwing it was a mistake.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Spike reassured him before drawing the griffon’s attention over to where he’d been examining the inner workings of the ship’s wheel. “But in other news, I’ve been making progress on our steering problem.”

“…And?” Gallus prompted, scooting closer.

“And near as I can figure out, it all seems to be working fine from this end,” Spike said, pulling on the cables that made the system work and demonstrating they were still all properly connected and still moving as they should. “That tells me the steering itself isn’t broken…”

“…but somewhere where it all hooks up with the rudder,” Gallus concluded, catching on. He pulled the operator’s manual to him and flipped through it quickly. “That might be an easy fix if we can find the problem then.”

It just became a matter of actually getting to it, as the mechanisms in question were located deeper inside the airship, where it wasn’t as readily accessible. Consulting the manual lead them into the corridor amidships where they opened up a concealed hatch. This lead into a narrow crawlspace lined with various components for the airship’s internals, and they both leaned in to peer inside.

Spike pulled out a flashlight to shine around within the dark crawlspace, examining the sections of the steering line that ran through here. “Well, it looks like it’s all still connected here,” he murmured aloud. He leaned over to shine the flashlight further down the small passage where it ran all the way to the far end of the ship. “I’m guessing whatever is broken is closer to the rudder then. One of us will have to crawl all the way down there to find out.”

Gallus, who had been looking into the crawlspace leerily, gulped. “It’s, ah…kinda small and cramped in there though, isn’t it?” he mumbled with notably anxiety.

Spike glanced back him, confused for a second, before remembering. “Oh right, I forgot, you’re claustrophobic, aren’t you?”

“Not claustrophobic,” Gallus swiftly corrected out of pride. He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “More…claustro-avoidant.”

“…claustro-avoidant,” Spike deadpanned.

“Yeah, I just avoid tightly enclosed spaces whenever possible.”

“Isn’t that just the same—look, never mind,” Spike pinched at the bridge of his snout for a moment before lowering himself into the open hatchway. “I’ll do it. I’m the smallest one here, so it might as well be me anyway.” He stuffed the operator’s manual into Gallus’s talons. “You stay here and read the instructions to me once I’m down there.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that,” Gallus said, repositioning the book in his talons so it’d be easier to read. He skimmed through the text briefly as Spike ducked into the crawlspace and started wiggling his way up it, flashlight in paw. “We’re thinking the problem’s definitely something with the rudder then?”

“Well, I’ll double-check the steering line along the way, just in case,” Spike said as he went, “but probably.”

Gallus hummed in reply and continued reviewing the manual as Spike crawled. “Just try not to take too long. The longer we’re adrift in this tub, the further away we get from where any rescue teams will be looking for us.”

“If I know Twilight though, she’s not going to let that stop her from finding us,” Spike replied confidently, his voice becoming somewhat muffled the further he crawled down the passage. “Worst case, we just need to hold out until then.”

“Easier said than done,” Gallus mumbled to himself, before asking, “You think they’ve sent out any search parties yet?”

Spike was quiet for a moment, presumably considering the question. “Depends on whether or not anyone heard our SOS on the radio,” he said. “But there is Lieutenant Dream Chaser to consider!”

“Dream Chaser?”

“Yeah, he’s still on the islet, waiting for us, remember? I’m sure he’s probably realized something’s gone wrong by now. Hay, I’d be surprised if he hasn’t already tried to track us down himself.”

But Gallus, having momentarily forgotten why Dream Chaser hadn’t accompanied them aboard earlier, suddenly came to a horrifying realization. “Spike,” he began slowly, knowing the young dragon probably wouldn’t like hearing this but he knew he needed to say it anyway. “I don’t think Dream’s going to be coming for us.”

Spike seemed surprised by that. “Really? Why not?”

“Because if he could, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have stayed behind in the first place.”

Spike’s voice became hesitant, but he still didn’t seem to be following Gallus’s logic. “…he stayed behind so to watch the carriage.”

“That’s just what Gene Type told us he was doing.”

“What are you saying?”

“Spike, in order for Gene Type to pull off what he tried to do, he would need as little interference as possible. And considering how much trouble he had just keeping us from retaliating, he would’ve wanted to make sure a trained Night Guard that’d no doubt object strongly to his plans would in absolutely no way interfere.”

An ominous silence fell as Spike seemed to realize what Gallus was implying and stopped crawling. “Maybe…maybe Gene Type just did something to knock him out?” he finally suggested hopefully.

“…maybe,” Gallus conceded, but admittedly he only said so for Spike’s benefit. He knew that Dream Chaser would’ve raised the alarm the moment he regained consciousness again, and considering he figured Gene Type would’ve immediately tried to escape had he succeeded with his plans, then he would’ve needed to ensure Dream Chaser could never do that. And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, Gallus could only think of one way Gene Type could do that.

But he kept this to himself and eventually Spike decided to not press the topic, instead pressing further into the crawlspace. “Okay, I’m here at the rudder,” he announced simply a few moments later.

His voice sounded mildly distant now, so much so Spike had raised his voice to make sure he could be heard, and even with that, Gallus felt the need to lean closer to make sure they could clearly communicate. “All right then,” Gallus began and peered through the hatch in Spike’s direction. The little dragon looked like a small and dark lump dimly surrounded by the glowing aura of his flashlight, making Gallus all the more glad it wasn’t him down in the crawlspace. “You didn’t see any problems on your way down there?”

“No, no breaks in the line, so it’s gotta be here at the rudder,” Spike concluded. “So tell me what I should be seeing here so we can figure out what’s wrong.”

“Right,” Gallus replied and consulted the manual for a second. “Okay, you see where the steering line connects with the tiller? The swinging metal joint thing?”

“Yeah, it’s hooked up just fine with that,” Spike reported. “So how’s that supposed to be connected with the rudder?”

“Well, according to the manual, there should be a pole that goes from the rudder, into the airship, and slotting into the tiller, connecting the whole thing together,” Gallus explained.

There was a long moment of silence on Spike’s end. Then, finally: “Uh-oh.”

Gallus tensed. “Uh-oh what?”

“It’s gone.”

The tensing grew worse. “What’s gone?”

“The rudder—it’s gone.”

Gallus looked up sharply from the manual, brow furrowed, then forewent his claustrophobia and stuck his head into the hatchway to gawk at Spike. “…What?!”

“The rudder is just gone,” Spike explained, twisting around in the crawlspace to peer back at Gallus. “I can see the slot in the tiller it’s supposed to hook up to, but that’s slot empty! I can’t see the pole part that’s supposed to hook up with, or any sign of the rudder at all, just a small hole in the hull leading outside that’s probably where it’s all supposed to be.”

Gallus continued gaping at him. “Well…what can you see through that hole?”

He saw Spike lean his head down so to peer through it. “Not much, mostly just the storm outside. Wait, I can see part of the airship’s backend…and what looks like broken hinges.” He turned to look back at Gallus again. “I, uh…think that’s where the rudder is supposed to be.”

“Are you saying the rudder somehow fell off entirely?” Gallus exclaimed, alarmed. “How did that happen?” But no sooner had he asked did he feel another wind-fueled tremor go through the ship, suddenly making him recall the particularly large tremor that’d hit the airship when Gene Type fell on the broken radio…and the distant crack he’d heard elsewhere in the ship. He straightened, pulling his head out of the hatchway to gaze blankly in horror for a moment.

…before hurling the operator’s manual onto the ground and swearing.

A couple moments later Spike reappeared, clambering out of the crawlspace. “I guess that’s that then,” he said dismally as he did this. “We can’t fix something that’s not there at all.”

“That also means we’re sunk,” Gallus added bitterly, “because that means there’s nothing we can do to try and stop this runaway tub.”

As such, they pretty much gave up on the repairs after that. They did briefly float a few ideas of somehow trying to turn the ship manually, ranging from attempting to re-gear the engines so one propeller would give more thrust than the other, to flying out themselves and trying to physically push the craft onto a new course. All of these ideas were fairly swiftly ruled out as impractical, ineffective, or just flat-out impossible.

“Besides,” Gallus eventually reasoned after about an hour of this, “we’re probably miles from the Griffish Isles by now, and like you said before, without any clear idea of where they’re at, we’d probably never find our way back blindly even if we could steer this tub.”

So eventually they just had to conclude they were back to square one, stuck on a runaway airship and lost in a heavy storm at sea. Gallus’s mind did loop back to his original idea of just jumping ship, but Spike’s arguments against that plan bore even more weight than before, especially now that they were so far from the Griffish Isles and getting further still by the moment. So really, the best they could do was stay aboard at least long enough to ride out the rest of the storm and hope, by then, they would be in a better position to do something more proactive.

In the meantime, they returned to the control cabin, as it had the best view of where the airship was flying, to wait for precisely this. They were there for what felt like some time, trying to pass the time. Spike at one point remembered he could send messages with his firebreath, but when he attempted to send one to Twilight, the message immediately rebounded back to him without even leaving the airship. After repeating this a couple more times to similar results, he was forced to conclude that something was blocking them, causing them to return to sender.

“Best guess is that Gene Type has something in place on the airship that, when engaged, blocks messages sent that way,” he reasoned to Gallus.

“Probably set it up deliberately with you in mind then, in case his plans went awry like they did,” Gallus murmured in response. “Any chance we could undo whatever’s doing the blocking?”

“Not without knowing what it is he did to cause it,” Spike replied with a disappointed shake of his head. “And since there’s a high chance he just cast a spell using his magic, it can’t be turned off without the right counter spell.” He then raised a claw to make a promising counterpoint. “However, I could maybe get around it if I try sending a message somewhere off of the airship, maybe a few feet away from it.”

“Maybe,” Gallus agreed, thinking that might be worth trying, but he gazed frustrated out the forward window at the storm outside. “But it’ll still have to wait until this storm dies down first.”

So since this left them essentially in the same position, they continued passing the time, hoping for a change in their circumstances. Spike spent most of it with the operator’s manual, going through it with a fine tooth comb for anything that could help them or for any possible solutions they might have overlooked. The fact that this much time had passed without finding anything made it clear there weren’t really any more answers to be had there though. Gallus, meanwhile, spent his time trying to entertain himself anyway he could. Currently, since it would do nothing anyway, he was lying on his side and idly spinning the ship’s wheel back and forth.

Eventually Spike grew annoyed by it. “Could you please stop that?” he asked in a strained voice. “It’s very distracting.”

Gallus obeyed, but not without releasing a groan in boredom, rubbing at his eyes with his talons. “Just how long has it been now anyway?” he groused aloud.

Spike looked up from the manual then glanced around. “Dunno, my pocketwatch is in my bag in that lab still,” he noted, realizing their things had been left there, forgotten in all the excitement. “I’d have to run down and get it.” He stopped to consider. “I’m sure we’re well into the late afternoon by now though.” He looked out the forward window at the stormy skies they sailed through. “If the sky was clear, we’d probably have a better idea.”

Gallus also glanced out the window. “At least that storm finally seems to be easing up,” he remarked with some relief, seeing the rain and wind had let up and visibility improved to the point they could see ahead of the airship for about mile or more before it vanished in the lingering haze of the storm. Lightning still flashed and rumbled every so often, but otherwise it was still a notable improvement from before. “Hopefully that means we’ve about flown through to the other side of it.”

“I hope so too,” Spike said and looked worryingly over at a gauge he had been periodically glancing at, giving the power levels of the ship’s batteries. “I’m not sure how much longer the power’s going to hold out.”

Gallus frowned, considering that eventuality. “What happens when it does give out?” he asked.

“We’ll be dead in the water,” Spike replied, “But it’s more the ship’s lightning shield I’m worried about.”

“Lightning shield?”

“Yeah, it’s a magic-based protective barrier that surrounds the ship and deflects lightning during storms.” Spike motioned to the manual sitting in his lap. “According to this, it’s a large part of what makes this airship so capable of flying around storms at all. But it feeds off the batteries too, and the ship’s rigged so that the engines are kept running as the priority system, so when the batteries do run low, that lightning shield is going to give out first before the engines do.”

Gallus glanced out at the odd bolt of lightning still flashing within the storm. “Well…maybe by then we’ll be over land and can finally jump ship,” he hoped. “I mean surely we’re going to reach some eventually.”

“Assuming we’re pointed in the direction of land and not just deeper out to sea,” Spike replied.

This earned him a look from Gallus. “I thought I was supposed to be the pessimist on this tub.”

“You can share,” Spike argued back.

Gallus snorted in amusement before letting his gaze wander. It eventually settled upon the thing in the room both of them had pointedly been trying to ignore—Gene Type’s body, still lying where it had fallen. The tarp they’d draped over it helped, but the pony-shaped lump under it was still hard to ignore, especially now that Gallus got to thinking about it again. “You know…we probably ought to do something about that,” he remarked, nodding his head in its direction.

Spike followed his gaze only far enough to see where the griffon was looking, but not far enough to actually lay eye on it. It was clear the whole thing still bothered him greatly, as it hadn’t escaped Gallus’s notice that Spike had sat himself so his back would be towards the body. “I’ve been trying really hard to pretend that’s not even there,” he remarked pointedly, subtly signaling he wanted nothing to do with it at the moment.

Gallus sympathized, but he knew it wasn’t a luxury. “Yeah, but if we’re really going to be stuck here long term, then we’re not going to want to,” he said pointedly. “Bodies decay, after all. And if you think it’s unpleasant to be around now…”

“Well, what do you suggest we do about it, then?” Spike snapped irately, slamming the manual shut.

Gallus considered the question for a moment. “We could throw him overboard,” he suggested. “That’d probably be the simplest option.”

But Spike balked at that suggestion. “That seems callous, even with what he tried to do,” he countered.

“Well, the only other option then would be to store him somewhere,” Gallus said. “Preferably something sealable or cold, but I don’t know if we’re going to find that on this tub.”

Spike thought to himself. “…wasn’t there a big freezer in that lab?” he asked. “Do you think that’d be big enough to hold him?”

Gallus reviewed his memories real quick and realized there was a rectangular chest freezer tucked in one corner of the lab he hadn’t really thought much about until now. “It’d be better than nothing I guess,” he said, standing up. He glanced at Spike upon noticing he hadn’t moved. “Can you help me move him?” he asked gently.

Spike winced, clearly not wanting to. “Can’t…can’t you do it yourself?”

Gallus also winced. “I could if I dragged him, but that’d be kinda rough on him and…” he trailed off, thinking his point made.

Spike closed his eyes so to draw strength, then set aside the manual and stood up. “Okay, let’s be quick about it,” he said reluctantly. He looked like he nearly lost his nerve again the moment he faced Gene Type’s body, but he nevertheless followed Gallus towards it.

Gallus took it upon himself to wrap the tarp more fully around the body, partly to make it easier and partly to give Spike a barrier between it and himself. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you and let you take the lighter end,” he said, motioning for Spike to pick up the rear legs while he moved to take Gene Type by the head. He waited for Spike to reluctantly move into position. “Okay, on three—one…two…three.”

With combined grunts, they hefted Gene Type off the floor and started waddling him out of the control cabin. This was easier said than done, the body naturally having become a dead weight and taking some muscle to lift. Nevertheless, they were managing and slowly started down the corridor towards the stairs for the lower deck. Gallus was managing the task okay, really just wanting to get it done and over with. Spike, however, was clearly trying to not think too hard about what they were doing.

“You’re still really bothered by it, aren’t you?” Gallus asked softly after a moment of carrying in silence.

Spike snorted, angry. “I’m more bothered by the fact it doesn’t bother you,” he complained.

“I am bothered by it,” Gallus assured. “I’ve just…” he sighed, “…had to deal with this kind of thing before.”

“What?” Spike breathed, suddenly alarmed. “Why?”

“I’m a griffon, Spike,” Gallus shirked as they maneuvered awkwardly down the stairs with their cargo, “A predator that hunts other creatures for prey.”

“That is not the same thing as this and you know it!”

Gallus sighed and conceded that point. “Look, I didn’t want to just tell you but…the short of it is that life in Griffonstone isn’t like in Equestria. Bad things can happen to creatures there sometimes. And…when you grow up on its streets like I did…sometimes you end up seeing things you wish you hadn’t.”

He didn’t elaborate further, but it was clear from Spike’s expression that he understood what Gallus was saying. A heavy silence fell for a few moments as they exited the stairs into the lower deck.

“I’m sorry,” Spike finally apologized while they started maneuvering into the lab.

Gallus breathed a heavy but understanding sigh. “It’s okay,” he assured. “Honestly, you’re the lucky one who never had to deal with that.” He then brushed it aside. “Besides, I’m off those streets now so…it’s been better than it was. And I’d rather focus on that anyway.”

“Right,” Spike said, averting his gaze until they arrived at the freezer in question. “Well…here it is. You, uh…you think he’ll fit inside?”

“Only one way to find out,” Gallus said as they sat Gene Type to one side and lifted open the lid. Inside the freezer was already filled with shelves of various supplies presumably for Gene Type’s experiments. “Yeah, we’re going to have to make some room first, but I think this’ll work for now.”

Figuring Gene Type wasn’t in a position to care what happened to the contents anymore, they then proceeded to pull out the full shelves and stacked them haphazardly on the nearby counter. Once it’d been emptied as much as could be, Gene Type’s tarp-wrapped body was lowered inside. He had to be curled up a little in order to fit, but fit he did, and once the body was securely inside, Gallus closed the lid on him with a sigh, pleased to see it still neatly sealed.

“Yup, that’ll hold him for now until somebody can get something better for him,” he said with relief before looking the freezer over. “And bonus—looks like this freezer runs on its own power supply, so it should keep going even after the airship’s batteries run out.”

He went to glance at Spike only to see the little dragon was no longer by his side. Puzzled, he turned around and found that while he’d been working at the freezer, Spike had wandered over to where the cart of examination supplies had been knocked over in the fight and still lay scattered on the floor. At first Gallus thought he was examining some of the tools, but as he stepped closer, he saw Spike’s attention was instead on the mysterious bloodline tablet that had also fallen on the floor, coming partly unwrapped from the cloth covering it. He watched as Spike nervously brushed away the rest of the cloth and examined it in silence for a moment. He then reached out with one claw and gently touched one corner. As before, it immediately lit up with its green glow at his touch.

Spike hissed to himself when it did so, tensing, but Gallus just narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the tablet. “It’s a fake,” he concluded resolutely. “It has to be.”

Spike wasn’t convinced. “Gallus, you can’t fake these things,” he murmured, his gaze distant and shell-shocked as he removed his claw, the tablet going dark again.

“Sure you can!” Gallus retorted. “You just get any old rock, make it into a tablet, carve it up to look like the real thing, and then put a spell on it that makes it glow when you touch it!” He jabbed a claw at the tablet again. “I’ll bet that thing glows no matter who touches it.”

“But why?” Spike asked, turning to look Gallus in the eye. “Why would Gene Type even bother with making such a fake?”

“To lure us into a trap?” Gallus suggested like it was obvious. “To give us a false sense of security? To make it look like he cared? To distract us with magical glowy things while he moved in for the kill?”

“He already had all of that though, from the moment we first stepped aboard!” Spike pointed out. “We suspected nothing! So he could’ve tried to…to…kill us straightaway! He wouldn’t have wasted all that time with those tests if it was all just for show!” Spike motioned back to the tablet on the floor. “If it is a fake, then why go to that much effort?” He shook his head and started to pace. “No, there had to be a reason for it all. He still needed those tests so to confirm…something he wasn’t positive about.”

“Confirm what, though?” Gallus challenged, still skeptical. “At that point, what was there that still needed confirming? He knew who we were already!”

Spike gazed back at the tablet. “He said there was more to us than we thought, though.” He looked back at Gallus. “What if he actually meant that, Gallus?”

Gallus’s felt his brow furrow as he attempted to follow along. “But what does that even mean?” he asked. He pinched his beak for a second. “Okay, let’s assume for a second that thing is real,” he began, pointing at that tablet. “It lights up for me too, remember?” He tapped his own talon upon it long enough to prove it. “So what would that mean?”

Spike hesitated, scratching at his spines. “Well…it’s a bloodline stone, so…”

“Exactly,” Gallus stressed. “It’d mean that we’re both somehow of that same bloodline.” He smirked at the silliness of the idea. “And do I look like a dragon to you?”

“…no,” Spike admitted.

“And are you a griffon, in any shape or form?”

Spike smiled a little, seeing Gallus’s point. “No, obviously not.”

“Then it has to be a fake.” He placed a reassuring paw on Spike’s shoulder. “Look, for all we know, we could be trying to make sense of something that was never meant to.”

Spike sighed. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted, averting his gaze. “But I just—” He was cut short when there was a sudden electrical whine deep within the airship and the lights dimmed briefly. Confused, they both looked upward for an explanation when the lighting resumed its normal levels. “…what was that?” he asked.

“I dunno, but we probably ought to go back upstairs and check it out,” Gallus suggested, turning to exit the lab.

As they left though, he didn’t miss that Spike still stopped to wrap the tablet back in its cloth and bring it with.

They hurried back to the control cabin, which was still the same as they’d left it, except now a small flashing light accompanied by a soft buzzer had switched on at the helm. Concerned, they both approached it to try and determine what was wrong, Spike arriving there first as he set aside the bloodline tablet and started looking over the various gauges. Gallus, meanwhile, surveyed the room for other signs of anything wrong.

Instead, his eyes fell upon a long dark smudge on the horizon through the forward window. “Hey!” he exclaimed, moving around the helm to get a closer look. “I think we’re finally nearing land!”

“Huh?” Spike said, looking up from the gauges and joined him, squinting at the smudge slowly getting bigger and larger. “Hey, I think you’re right! That’s actually good timing, because, uh…” he jabbed his thumb back at the helm with a wince, “…turns out that buzzer’s to indicate the batteries have run low enough for the lightning shield to fail.”

Gallus turned to look at him with an ominous expression, momentarily unsure how to respond. Eventually the weather beat him to it when a flash of lightning snaked through the sky nearby. Despite lightning like this having been commonplace the whole time they’d been flying through the storm, to the point they’d been tuning it out for hours, this made them both jump in alarm.

“Okay, that makes that seem a whole lot more concerning now,” Gallus snarked in worry, instinctively backing away from the forward window.

“It’s not all that bad now that we’re finally reaching land again,” Spike pointed out. “Once we’ve flown a little closer, we can probably jump ship like you said. We just have to wait a little longer to get there.”

“Right,” Gallus replied, but he was filled with dread. “So…at the risk of jinxing ourselves…” he rapped his fist on the wooden wall of the cabin as an added precaution, “…what happens if we get struck before then?”

Spike could only shrug. “I really don’t know. I guess it depends on where it hits the airship.” A split-second pause, then, “If it hits the airship.” Then he, too, rapped his knuckles on the wood of the wall.

So they tensely settled down to wait, hoping for the best and watching the dark smudge inch ever closer. The closer they sailed towards it, the more obvious it was, indeed, land, and soon it was apparent it was no small stretch of land either, as it appeared to extend for miles in all directions beyond its coastline—the lingering mist of the storm had just kept it hidden from view until they’d gotten closer.

“Look, I think I can see a little dirt road leading inland,” Gallus pointed as they drew to around a mile from shore. “That suggests there’s probably some civilization somewhere nearby. If we can find them, maybe they can help us.”

“I think this might even be mainland that we’re approaching,” Spike reasoned, starting to regain his hope, “which would be even better!”

“If that’s the case, then we’ve either managed to get back to the shore of Equestria,” Gallus speculated, “Or, more likely, we’ve flown all the way across the Celestial Sea to the next continent.”

Spike perked up at that. “The Griffon Kingdom is on the next continent—could we be near there?”

Gallus instead groaned. “Maybe, I can’t tell from here, but part of me hopes not, because I’m not sure how much that’d actually…”

He was cut short when there was a sudden and bellowing CRACK that rattled the whole airship, accompanied with a blinding flash of light that made both of them quickly cover their eyes in pain. It was all over in the same instant it had transpired, but an ominous silence followed except for the pained hissing of the two creatures aboard and the airship letting out a soft creak as it chugged on.

“What the budgie was that?” Gallus asked as he attempted to blink the stars out of his strained, but thankfully recovering, eyes.

“I’m…I’m not sure!” Spike admitted as he rubbed at his own eyes. “I think it was another bolt of lightning!”

“Finches, that one was close then!” Gallus declared as he rose fully to his feet again. “We seriously need to…” he trailed off, holding still as he stopped to feel the movements of the airship under his feet and realizing something wasn’t right. Alarmed, he ran back to the helm to check the altimeter and felt his stomach drop when he saw its readings. “Spike, unless the altimeter is broken, we’re dropping in altitude,” he reported with grave concern.

The airship seemed to realize this itself as just seconds later another, more shrill, alarm went off over on the ballast control board. Spike, the closest, hurried over to determine what was wrong, only to grow more panicked as he did so. “We’re losing lifting gas out of the ship’s envelope!”

“The what?” Gallus said, not understanding.

“The big balloon that’s keeping us in the air!” Spike clarified hotly as he scanned the board, all of its gauges going down. “That bolt of lightning must’ve ripped a hole in it!”

Gallus felt his heart leap into his throat and rushed to Spike’s side. “How fast are we leaking?”

“Too fast!” Spike replied helplessly as he tried to think of something to do. “We’ll run out in a manner of minutes!” He reached for the valve controls for the lifting gas. “We’ll have to shut off the lines before we run out!”

“No!” Gallus objected and swiftly grabbed the lever in question from Spike, pushing it all the way open instead of closing it. “You do that and we’ll just run out faster and crash into the sea! We need to be pumping in all the gas we can to try and keep us in the air for as long as possible!” He continued until all of the valves were fully open, at which point the amount of pressure loss appeared to slow notably, but certainly hadn’t stopped. “Hopefully that’ll be enough until we’re at least closer to land—we might have to travel the rest of the distance ourselves.” He turned to Spike. “You better run and grab our bags while I try and keep this tub in the air.”

Spike nodded and ran out of the control room. In the meantime, Gallus went back and forth monitoring the ballast gauges and the altimeter, both of which continued to go down at a worrying rate. He searched around for anything else he could do to at least try and delay the inevitable, thinking there was probably something if he looked hard enough, but swiftly found that continuing to pump lifting gas into an envelope leaking it out like a sieve really was the best option he had. He started to think he should’ve instead just called it a lost cause and gone with Spike so to go ahead and bail immediately but it was too late for that now.

Looking to the forward window though, he figured that would do for a quick escape and grabbed the chair and threw it at it so to break it open. Instead, it just bounced ineffectively off it. Frustrated, he tried a couple more times with much the same results before Spike came hurrying back in with their bags.

“Here,” he said, handing Gallus his bag after witnessing the griffon’s latest failed attempt to break the glass then doubling back to retrieve the bloodline stone from where he’d left it. “Trying to give us an escape route?”

“Trying, but this dumb window is apparently made of unbreakium or something!” Gallus groused, kicking the chair for this failure before focusing on pulling his bag onto his back.

While he was doing that, Spike pressed his face into the glass so to peer below them. They had dropped altitude significantly, so much so that there’d probably be risk of running into buildings if any were around. But he saw they’d also nearly reached shore. “I think we’re going to make it over land, though!” he pointed out optimistically.

Gallus joined him at the forward window. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” he said with a little relief. “That’ll make bailing easier as we won’t have to go as far to land.”

Spike watched as the airship formally sailed over the border between sea and land. “In fact, we’re over land now!” he said, and motioned ahead of them with some relief. “So at least this thing will come down on something solid. If we still had a functioning helm, we might even be able to more or less land it ourselves when it hits ground.”

Gallus suddenly tensed. “Yeah, hits ground,” he said, before looking at Spike in alarm, “at full throttle.”

Spike’s eyes widened as he realized too, then stared at the now all-too-close ground the ship was about to slam into. “Uh, we should go!” he declared, starting for the door.

“Agreed!” Gallus said, following and eager to get off while they still had some altitude to do it with.

Only it turned out they already had less than suspected. Before they could reach the cabin door, the airship suddenly jerked hard to one side as it skimmed an unnoticed and jagged outcropping sitting not far inland. Getting thrown off their feet, Gallus and Spike skidded to one side of the control cabin with most of the other loose objects in the room. Gallus heard other objects tumbling and crashing elsewhere in the ship as well. They were just clambering back to their feet though when the airship’s other side likewise banged into something, this time the somewhat pointed peak of a hill, sending them skidding to the other side of the cabin now. One or both of the engines were heard sputtering at that point and the fuse box Gallus had left open earlier suddenly shorted out in a flash of sparks.

Noticing the airship drop into a shallow dive, careening towards a sizeable grove of trees that filled the land past the shore, Gallus saw they had no more time to escape and would have to ride it out, for better or worse. “Brace yourself!” he told Spike, pulling the dragon close.

He had time enough to see tree limbs start to slap into the forward window before the nose of the airship harshly hit ground, sending everything within hurtling forward, Gallus and Spike slamming into the helm itself. The fuse box sparked again and the lighting within the cabin suddenly went out. The airship jerked again as it now skidded along, feeling as if it had bounced upon the ground. Twangs were heard as the cables tying the lifting envelope to the rest of the airship tore away. One of the engines released a distant bang as it catastrophically failed from the stress. Something heavy hit the forward window and it finally shattered in a spray of jagged shards that flew around Gallus and Spike using the helm as a shield. Heavy thumps of objects elsewhere from the ship getting thrown out of place echoed throughout the airship. There was a sudden crack and a heavy beam from the roof of the cabin slammed into the floor near them, causing Spike to yelp in surprise.

The airship’s motion must have caused it to skid forward for several more feet before finally friction won out and it jerked to an abrupt halt, throwing Spike and Gallus into the helm one last time. Quiet then finally fell except for the airship continuing to settle with a series of soft creaks and groans. Gallus remained where he was for a moment longer, waiting for his heart to stop trying to burst out of his chest first before daring to consider they had just survived that relatively unscathed. He realized he had at some point bodily wrapped himself around Spike and glanced down at the little dragon pressed into his chest, silently inquiring if he was hurt.

Fortunately, Spike nodded. “I’m all right,” he assured, shaken. “You?”

“Yeah,” Gallus answered in a clipped voice. He started to unwrap himself from Spike and shakily pick himself up, turning to survey the damage.

The control cabin was now dark, listing somewhat to one side and an overall mess, but otherwise surprisingly intact. He turned to peer out the broken forward window to see the trees and other foliage the airship had come to a stop against, envisioning the trail of destruction the airship had probably wrought as it slid to its final resting place. He was amazed it wasn’t way worse than it was.

Spike seemed to be thinking the same as he unsteadily rose to his feet too. “Nice landing,” he remarked sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Gallus agreed, before patting the dragon on the back. “So much for not jinxing ourselves.”

The quip seemed to break the tension and caused them both to break down into cathartic and relieving laughter.
> Lineage
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once it was clear they were safe again, at least for the moment, Gallus decided he probably ought to scout around, see if he could find out where they were exactly and if there was any help nearby. Telling Spike to wait at the airship and try to recover any supplies in the meantime, Gallus flew out the broken forward window and circled around the skies, looking for anything significant. Eventually, he perched again in a tree to assess the unfortunately little information he’d gathered. The shoreline they’d passed over really did seem to be the only notable landmark in the immediate area—the rest was just trees, foliage, and other wilderness.

There were no signs of any nearby residents, at least none within the first couple of miles. It was clear some occasionally traveled down to the shore via the dirt path he’d seen on their way down, and he’d followed that path for a bit from the air, seeing if it led to anything significant, but it joined with another intersecting dirt path that was only somewhat bigger, and both looked like they got traffic fairly sparingly. Neither seemed to lead to any civilization any time soon, nor did Gallus want to wander too far from the airship without Spike just yet. There were mountains further out, closer to the horizon, but these were miles away and it wouldn’t be a quick trip reaching them, whether by wing or by foot.

But Gallus did notice that it wasn’t like their crash site was hard to see from afar. It in fact looked even more obvious from above, as the airship had cut a clear path through the foliage when coming down. Plus, the airship itself did peek just barely over the tree line, and its envelope—which had become detached, deflated, and strung out over an adjacent hill—was even easier to see, thanks to bearing a bright orangey tan color that was clearly artificial. Surely anyone passing by would take notice and be inclined to investigate, especially if familiar with the terrain and knew this had all arrived recently.

He told Spike this upon returning back to the wrecked airship. “If anyone’s out there searching for us, it shouldn’t be too hard for them to find us here,” he explained to the dragon. “But even if they aren’t, we’ve still got options because you might be right about us managing to land in or near the Griffon Kingdom since I think I recognize those mountains out there. We’re too far away to tell for sure, but if they’re the mountains I think they are, Griffonstone’s on one of them. But it’ll be a bit of a trip getting out there either way.”

“Hmm,” Spike hummed as he peered out at the sky. The storm had continued to fade, and while the sun itself still wasn’t visible, its glow could be seen through the clouds, putting it low in the sky. “Well then, it’s getting late enough that we probably ought to wait until morning before going on a trip like that. I’d hate to wander around in those woods in the dark.”

“Agreed,” Gallus readily confirmed. “Trust me, traveling in the wilderness at night is no fun. I only ever did it for brief trips and even that was…creepy. And I’ve heard plenty of horror stories of bad things happening to other creatures who tried, so let’s not be those creatures.”

“Guess that means we’re camping here for the night,” Spike said, looking around the airship they sat in. It was definitely banged up but the upper deck at least was intact enough. “The ship should provide enough shelter.”

“It’ll be kinda dark after sunset though,” Gallus noted with a grimace. “Any chance we can get the lights back on in here?”

Spike shook his head. “I already tried while you were out. I don’t know if the batteries actually ran out, but it seems like the airship is damaged enough that it doesn’t matter now.” He then waved that matter aside. “But I’ve got my fire breath, so we can start a campfire easy-peasy.”

“How about supplies then?” Gallus said and motioned to the modest stack of foodstuffs Spike had gathered on the cabin floor. “Is this all you could find?”

“All I could recover in the ship’s galley, at least,” Spike explained, pulling out a spare pack he must’ve found along the way and proceeded to move the supplies into it. “It was somewhat crushed in the crash, so parts of it are hard to get into and some of the food was ruined anyway. But this dry stuff all seemed to have survived well enough.”

Gallus picked up a box of crackers skeptically, which set something of a theme as most of the rest were largely similar snack-based foods. “I mean, food is food,” he admitted, “but I don’t know how filling this’ll be.” He considered for a moment. “I think I saw a river not too far from here when I was looking around. Maybe I can catch us a fish or two—that’d be more nourishing in the long run, and we’re probably going to need it before this is all over.”

“I also found this,” Spike added, sliding a metal case across the floor towards Gallus.

“An emergency kit, nice!” Gallus said, pulling it towards him and opening it. “This should come in handy.” He pulled out a small pistol-like device. “And look, a flare gun! If anybody does fly over us, we can use this to let them know we need rescuing!” He popped open the barrel and peered inside, then back into the case. “Only two shots though, one already in the gun and a spare in the kit. We’ll have to be careful about how we use them.” He went through the kit a little longer and frowned. “Nothing in here in terms of radios or other things to call for help with though.” He glanced at Spike putting the last of the salvaged food into the bag for safer keeping. “Have you tried to see if you can use your firebreath thing again?”

“No, actually, I hadn’t gotten back to that,” Spike admitted as if just remembering and grabbed the scroll he had tried with earlier. “I’ll go see if I can do that now.”

He stopped long enough to scribble out a few updates about their status before rolling the scroll up again and clambering out the broken forward window, trying to distance himself from any interference the airship may or may not still be producing. Meanwhile, Gallus continued sifting through the emergency kit, seeing what else of use it had. Beyond about three days’ worth of dehydrated rations and a compact lantern though, the flare gun really was the most useful thing in there. Not that Gallus wasn’t pleased they had it at all, of course, but it didn’t really help to change their circumstances much or help speed up their chances for a hopefully swift rescue. Spike getting word out with his magic firebreath was ultimately their best bet still.

A bet that seemed problematic when, after being gone for some minutes, Gallus heard a bellow from outside: “Balani devoveo!”

Surprised, Gallus poked his head out the forward window to peer at Spike, who was angrily kicking at the dirt about a dozen or so feet from the airship. “Where did you learn to swear like a changeling?” he asked in a faint tease.

Spike snorted as he stomped back towards the airship. “I’m friends with a changeling too, you know!” he snapped before holding up, to Gallus’s dismay, the scroll he’d been trying to send. “This still isn’t sending though!”

Gallus flapped out of the window and met him halfway. “How?” he asked as he landed before the little dragon, not understanding. “Do we need to get you even further away from the airship, or whatever it was Gene Type did to block it?”

But Spike shook his head, plopping himself on the ground with a frustrated groan. “Why would he ever need it to reach so far from the airship if that’s what it was?” he asked before sighing. “No, I’m starting to think we got it wrong altogether.” He looked Gallus in the eye. “You remember when Gene Type started his supposed tests by scanning us?”

“Yeah…what about them?” Gallus asked, not sure he was following.

“Do you remember how it felt?”

“It…didn’t really feel like much of anything to me.”

“And normally it shouldn’t, not for the sort of scans he was doing. But for me, I’d felt a light tickle anyway.”

Gallus suddenly caught on. “You think he snuck another spell in with the scanning,” he summarized.

Spike nodded sadly. “He didn’t put a spell on the airship, he put a spell on me. That’s why I can’t send any messages with my firebreath.”

Gallus mulled this over for a moment before moving to sit beside Spike, putting a comforting wing over the dragon’s back. “So…where does this leave us then? Anyway we could break it ourselves?”

Spike shook his head. “No, even if we could cast the necessary magic ourselves, we don’t know what spell Gene Type used, so we’d just be shooting in the dark anyway. We’re stuck with it for now.” He half-heartedly chucked the useless scroll away from them. “I suppose we could send a message the traditional way,” he reasoned after a moment, “but we’d need a post office for that.”

“Which means we’d also need a town,” Gallus added and looked again to the sky. “And we already agreed it’s too late to try and find one right now, so I guess that’s also going to have to wait until morning.”

“Yeah, so until then, looks like we’re still hoping somebody heard that distress call we got out before Gene Type blew up the radio,” Spike concluded with a nod. He then heaved a heavy sigh. “You think anybody heard it?”

“I think at this point it’s not going to matter too much,” Gallus replied. “Everybody at home was expecting us to be back by now, so they’ll definitely have realized something’s wrong and started searching for us. It’s really just a question of whether or not they know where to look and how long it takes.”

“You think it’ll take them long to track us down?”

Gallus hesitated. “I think it might be faster to go ahead and find our own help in the morning,” he replied.

Spike nodded and gazed solemnly ahead for a few moments. “This whole mess is wacked,” he admitted after a moment.

“Understatement of the day,” Gallus agreed with a snort. “When I got up this morning, I certainly didn’t think this is where the day would be ending.” He gave Spike a comforting nudge. “But we’ve gotten this far safe, so I’d like to think our odds are still pretty good.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” Spike replied, giving Gallus a hopeful grin. He then sighed again. “I just wish I knew why though. What was so important that it led Gene Type to attempt murder?”

“Aw, who can say what was going on in that guy’s head,” Gallus remarked with a roll of his eyes. But then he gazed thoughtfully at the crashed airship before them for a moment. “Though now that you’ve mentioned it…” he pointed a talon at the craft, “…we haven’t searched every room in there yet, have we?”

“No, I suppose we haven’t,” Spike admitted with a shrug. “There hadn’t been a need to. Why, what are you thinking?”

“Well, Gene Type’s been living on this thing for like, what, a month or so, right? Doing all the research and stuff?” When Spike nodded, Gallus pressed on. “So the guy must have left some notes for whatever harebrained scheme he cooked up lying around in there somewhere.”

Spike perked up slightly. “Maybe,” he admitted. He squinted his eyes at the airship for a moment. “They’re probably a real mess after the crash, if they’re even there, but…” he stood up. “It might be worth a look.”

“And it’s not exactly like we’re going anywhere at the moment,” Gallus added with a shrug, “So it’d at least give us something to do in the meantime, right?”

This decided then, they reentered the airship so to give it a more thorough search. Though there was still adequate light coming in from outside to see, it was slowly dimming as the sun sank ever closer to the horizon, so Gallus brought with them the compact lantern from the emergency kit as they began their search. Right off the bat they expressed some worry about how well they would be able to explore the lower, more damaged, deck of the airship, but ultimately they didn’t even need to as the second upper floor room they checked proved to be an obvious office. It wasn’t particularly large, only about ten by five square feet, but it bore a basic desk bolted to the floor, a sliding chalkboard on the wall behind it, and a closed floor-to-ceiling cabinet in front of it.

It was obviously where Gene Type had done or kept the paperwork side of his research, so they were on the right track. Unfortunately, as Spike had predicted, everything that hadn’t been bolted down had been flung onto the floor and into a chaotic mess from the crash, including virtually all the documents that had been on top of the desk, the items probably of the most interest to them currently.

Gallus set the lantern on the desktop and bent down to start sorting through the jumbled papers carpeting the floor. “Well, I guess we’d better get searching,” he said, seeing no need to delay. “Hopefully Gene Type had these all organized enough that they’re still mostly grouped together.” But as he sorted through the first few documents and saw no apparently relation between any of them, he didn’t have high hopes for this.

Nevertheless, they quietly pressed on, sorting the papers back into stacks of their own creation and speaking up whenever they found something that might be of interest. For the first several minutes though, they didn’t find much but some uninteresting bureaucratic documents, flight plan registration papers, a couple of financial bills, and a lot of reports that listed results of Gene Type’s research in highly dense and technical data that was more numerical than verbal and thus difficult to meaningfully interpret. None of it seemed especially relevant to their role in all of this though, until Spike, moving some of the stacks they’d made back onto the desk so to get them out of the way, noticed something already there.

“Hey, come take a look at this,” he said, waving Gallus over.

Gallus set aside the papers he was working with and joined him at the desk, where Spike was pointing at a series of sticky notes stuck directly to the face of the desk. A quick glance was enough to see they seemed to be reminders or to-dos for Gene Type. There didn’t seem to be any order or pattern to them though, and a long moment of silence fell as the two attempted to puzzle out the exact intended meaning of the cryptic and disorganized notes. Gallus still quickly recognized what had gotten Spike’s attention about them though—one note read “SPIKE/GALLUS MON. NOON.” But that wasn’t so out of the norm in of itself so he wasn’t sure what it told them.

“Obviously this one is about our scheduled meeting earlier today,” he said, tapping the note in question before motioning at the others. “But I haven’t the foggiest if these others tie in with it.”

“It’s these two that really get my attention,” Spike said, pointing to two other notes nearby that were stuck immediately next to each other. They read “CONFIRM HYBRIDS” and “POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS” respectively. “They’re the two that aren’t like the others.”

Gallus scratched at his crest of feathers with his talons, puzzled. “You think they’re somehow related to all of this then?” he asked, “They’re so vague, it’s hard to tell.”

“I…suppose it’s possible they aren’t actually, and only just happened to be grouped together like that,” Spike admitted, rubbing at his chin, but he didn’t sound especially convinced. “But the fact Gene Type associated a danger to it seems significant.”

Gallus hummed aloud, but this didn’t help them figure it out much. “What exactly does he mean by hybrids anyway?” he asked, deciding that needed clarifying first. “Does he mean like in the biological sense?”

“You mean like a chimera?” Spike asked, the first hybrid creature that sprang to mind. He then frowned and reassessed that statement. “Though I guess as far as hybrids go, a chimera is the more extravagant example…I do know a mule back in Ponyville though, and I guess that’d count as a hybrid, seeing he’s a cross of a pony and donkey…”

“Oh yeah, I know who you’re talking about,” Gallus admitted, having seen said mule around town before. “What is that guy’s name, again? I don’t think I’ve ever found out…”

“I’m not sure it matters, because what do hybrids have to do with anything?” Spike questioned back.

“Mm, and why did Gene Type think there was a danger?” Gallus added, humming thoughtfully. He remained silent for another moment, looking at the sticky notes with a scowl. “We need more information,” he concluded finally and turned around, scanning the office for inspiration on where he might find it.

Spike, meanwhile, sighed and glanced around the office himself. “We might have to look for it somewhere else,” he pointed out as he regarded the sliding chalkboard behind the desk. The two panels currently visible were covered with the formulas and genetic analysis expected for Gene Type’s trade. “Most of what’s in here seems to be his normal work that everybody already knew about.” He gazed at the chalkboard for a moment longer then went to slide aside one of the panels. “Though maybe there’s something hidden on here…I wonder if this is like the sliding chalkboards back at the School for Gifted Unicorns the professors were always using. The backmost panel of those was typically a corkboard…”

He trailed off speaking. Gallus, meanwhile, nearly went back to sorting through the many papers still disorganized on the floor before his eyes fell upon the cabinet doors at the back of the room. Wondering what might be in there, he moved to open it but the doors simply jerked in place, locked. A quick examination of its latch showed a simple tumbler lock was in place. Gallus briefly considered what he’d have to do to try and pick the lock, but then realized he might not have to.

“Hey Spike,” he called while he examined the lock a moment longer. “You see a key that could fit this lock lying around anywhere?” When he didn’t get a response, he turned to look behind him with a frown. “…Spike?”

Spike was still at the chalkboard, having slid the rightmost panel about half a foot to one side and revealing the expected corkboard mounted behind it that he’d commented about. Gallus could see that corkboard had several notes of varying colors pinned to it, but he was too far away to read any of them. Nevertheless, Spike stood frozen before it, staring at something Gallus couldn’t see, so there must’ve been something important on it, enough that Gallus, growing concerned, moved back towards him to find out.

“Did you find something?” he asked as he returned to Spike’s side, trying to see what had caught the dragon’s attention.

Spike, jaw hanging slightly ajar, merely pointed numbly at the bottom right corner of the corkboard where a lone photograph was pinned. Gallus squinted his eyes at it, not immediately seeing what was so important about it.

“…looks like an egg,” he finally noted aloud, puzzled.

“It’s a dragon egg,” Spike supplemented weakly.

Gallus nodded, deciding that explained why Spike had reacted to it, but he still didn’t see why this was special. “Okay. What of it?”

Spike swallowed, still keeping his eyes on the photo. “…I think it’s mine.”

“What?” Gallus squinted his eyes at the picture again, baffled. “How can you tell that?”

“It has purple spots,” Spike murmured numbly. “Dragon eggs have different colored spots, unique to the egg. And my egg had purple spots just like that.”

Gallus looked from the photo to the dragon again for a few moments, still confused. “Spike, I can’t even remember what my own egg looked like, so how the heck do you know what yours looked like?”

Spike made a sheepish wince and finally broke his gaze from the photo. “Well…Twilight’s dad likes to scrapbook, so…”

Gallus pulled back with a disturbed look. “Are you saying he scrapbooked pieces of your egg?” he exclaimed.

“Just the shell!” Spike quickly reassured before nervously twiddling his claws, “And not all of the pieces, only a few.” His gaze turned back to the photo. “But…enough to know it looked something like that when it was still whole.”

Gallus gazed at the photo also, still skeptical. “And how do you know this is the same egg and not some other dragon egg with purple spots?” he challenged.

Spike bit his lip, peering at the photo. “Well, I guess it is odd that room in the background doesn’t look like any of the ones in Canterlot Castle, where my egg stayed until it hatched,” he reluctantly admitted, but he shook his head resolute. “But who else’s egg could it be? We already know I was one of Gene Type’s targets! Why else would he have a picture of anyone’s egg, for that matter?”

“He was doing heritage tests for the whole School of Friendship, so he’s probably been researching the backgrounds for a lot of creatures lately!” Gallus retorted. “Heck, that could be Smolder’s egg for all we know!” But no sooner were the words out his mouth did he remember Smolder commenting she had no plans to submit any samples for testing, making that possibility unlikely. Nevertheless, Gallus still had doubts. “Look, it’s probably related to some of those tests he was doing and little more,” he said as he reached over Spike to push the chalkboard panel the rest of the way open, revealing more of the corkboard underneath. “It probably doesn’t even have much of anything to do with—”

Spike suddenly gasped and grabbed Gallus’s wrist, pointing at the top left corner of the corkboard as it came into view. Gallus turned his head only for his own eyes to bulge in surprise. There, neatly pinned in place like the other, was another photo, but this one pictured a small griffon youth—a hatchling barely a few months old—turning to look innocently towards the camera as he opened his beak to take a bite out of a biscuit. His vibrant azure eyes seemed to bore into Gallus’s own as recognition filled him.

They were, after all, his own eyes looking back out at him.

Gallus jumped when his rear bumped into the office desk, not realizing he had been backing away from the corkboard. His beak opened and closed uselessly for a moment as he stared at the photo of his far younger self. “This…how…it can’t be…” he mumbled aloud, trying to form coherent enough of a thought to vocalize.

But the second photo wasn’t the only thing that had been revealed. Pinned roughly to the center of the corkboard were two newspaper articles. Gallus immediately recognized the topmost one as it was the same article that’d circulated over most of Equestria following Cozy Glow’s attempt to steal away the land’s magic. He and his friends had all gotten themselves copies of the article because not only did it make praiseworthy mention of their role in stopping said filly, it also featured them in a group picture. Gallus had been standing to the back in that picture, but nonetheless, Gene Type had at some point taken a marker and circled Gallus’s face with it. Jotted next to it was “ESCAPED? HOW?”

The second article was a more generic one from the Canterlot Times and must have been printed sometime just before Twilight Sparkle was crowned the new ruler of Equestria. The article’s text focused entirely on the alicorn princess, but it too included a picture in which Spike was visible to one side. His face had also been circled in marker, and with it were jotted notes reading “SAME? VERIFY!” Covering most of the rest of the corkboard were various other notes that had been pinned to it, and now that all of them were visible, both Gallus and Spike could start making sense of them. What they said all varied, but all tracked what was publically known about their lives, all asked speculative but ominous questions Gene Type seemed to want answers for, and all seemed to concern Gallus or Spike. The most nerve-racking ones though read “WHERE HAS HE BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME?” in reference to Gallus and “HOW DID HE GET TO CANTERLOT UNNOTICED?” in reference to Spike.

In all, it made it clear that Gene Type’s attempt to murder them had been the culmination of a very long time of work.

Spike swallowed again, his breathing heavy. “Gallus,” he began slowly, “I think this all runs way deeper than we thought.”

Gallus found himself nodding in agreement, gaze going back to his own photo in the corner. “Especially as that picture shouldn’t even exist,” he said, pointing a talon at it before looking at Spike. “As far as I knew, there simply weren’t any photos of me until I arrived at the School of Friendship, over a decade after that one had to have been taken.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand then, how does he have these photos at all? Where did he get them?”

“And more importantly, why?” Gallus stressed, realizing that despite everything, it all kept coming back to that one question, and despite this new information, none of it made clear Gene Type’s motives other than to convey that there definitely was at least one. This, in turn, led him right back to the same conclusion as before—they needed more information.

And with that, his gaze turned back to the locked cabinet behind them, mind running wild as to what secrets it may hold. “Spike, help me find a key for that cabinet’s lock. Gene Type must’ve been keeping it somewhere around here.”

They hurriedly searched around the remaining mess of the office for a few minutes. “I think this is it!” Spike suddenly declared, holding up the key in question.

Gallus quickly snagged it from him and they hurried over to the cabinet to test it. Gallus smirked when the lock clicked satisfactorily. Eager to see what Gene Type was hiding in here, he threw open the cabinet door, expecting to find all the documentation for the deceased scientist’s scheming. Instead, the cabinet was filled with shelves of reference books on Gene Type’s trades as a geneticist and forensic scientist, as well as a couple of other semi-related scientific fields, but nothing obvious pertaining to their current situation.

“Oh c’mon!” Gallus bemoaned in disappointment, pulling books at random in the desperate hope one of them was a secret lever for a concealed compartment or something. “You could’ve hidden anything you didn’t want somecreature to see in here, and you fill it up with flipping textbooks instead?”

Spike, meanwhile, spied one book not like the others. “Well, it’s not all textbooks,” he remarked as he pulled it off the shelf. “This one is an old photo album.”

Gallus groaned and rolled his eyes as he continued searching through the other books for hidden secrets. “Spike, I don’t really care about Gene Type’s family memories right now!” he groused, ignoring the dragon’s find.

Spike, however, opened the album to its first page. “This isn’t Gene Type’s album,” he concluded suddenly. When Gallus stopped to glance at him questioningly, Spike turned the album around so he could see for himself. It’s first three photos didn’t picture any ponies as expected but rather a griffoness in her early adulthood.

“…huh?” Gallus said as he took the album from Spike and stared at the unexpected photos. “Why would Gene Type have something like this?”

Spike shrugged. “You tell me, you’re the griffon. Is she anyone you recognize?”

“…no?” Gallus replied, uncertain. “At least…I don’t think I recognize her…” he squinted his eyes at the pictured griffoness, bearing a fiery yellow-orange plumage with a crest of feathers sweeping backwards down her head and nearly onto her neck, each one fading to a golden yellow at their tips, and deeply vibrant azure eyes. Maybe she seemed ever so vaguely familiar to him? “I…guess I might’ve passed her on the street at some point…but I certainly don’t know who she is.” He noticed the photos were all dated and ran some numbers in his head. “It may not matter anyway,” he said, flipping to the next page. “According to the dates, these photos are nearly twenty years old. She probably looks different now.”

Spike threw up his claws helplessly. “Well, I don’t know why Gene Type has photos of her then, but there’s gotta be a reason.”

Gallus halted as he turned to the album’s third page. “Well, maybe this has something to do with it,” he said as he now turned it around for Spike to see. The first few photos were still of the same griffoness, but the next few showed a male dragon roughly the griffoness’s same age. Initially he looked like he was getting photobombed, but later he appeared to be genuinely posing for photos before the last one showed both the griffoness and the dragon together, the griffoness holding the camera in front of her with a smug look while the taller dragon—barely in the frame—rolled his eyes in bemusement behind her.

“What?” Spike muttered, now the confused one as he took the album back and started flipping through the pages, studying the newcomer dragon as he did. The dragon’s main body of scales was a dark navy blue except for his underbelly which was contrastingly colored a creamy light tan. His emerald green spines sprouting from the top of his head and running on down his back were overall rounded in shape, except with a clear, albeit blunted, point to them. He was built well enough to have a light and unexcessive six-pack and yet there was a gentle intelligence rather than physical strength to how he carried himself, making him stand out from most other dragons they knew. Yet he wasn’t at all familiar, which only further confused Spike. “Why would a dragon be in here?”

“I’d assume they’re friends,” Gallus reasoned, thinking it obvious.

But as Spike noticed the griffoness and dragon become more friendly and chummy in every new photo, he reached a different conclusion. “I’m…thinking they were maybe more than just friends.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up. “You think they were an item?” he asked, surprised, “A griffon and a dragon?” He snorted and let his gaze wander as he tried to puzzle this out. “This doesn’t make any sense. I mean, it can’t be a coincidence that you and me are a griffon and dragon like those two are, but…I don’t see how it’s all supposed to connect.”

Spike’s eyes suddenly bulged as he flipped to a new page in the album. “Gallus…” he breathed before turning the album around again to show him a new photo. This time the dragon was holding the camera while leaning close to the tired but happy looking griffoness holding in her talons an…

“They had an egg?!” Gallus exclaimed as he snatched the album from Spike. The speckled egg in the griffoness’s talons looked like a fairly normal griffon’s egg, but considering the probable father… “No, no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head as he started haphazardly flipping ahead in the album, “A dragon and griffon couldn’t possibly have kids, that egg must be adopted or—AH!”

He dropped the album suddenly, as if burned by it, but it landed flat on the floor in front of him, still turned to the photo that’d shocked him. It portrayed three figures grouped together for a quick family photo. One was the female griffon looking at the camera with a small, warm smile. Beside her, one arm wrapped lovingly around her shoulders, was the male dragon, looking at the camera with friendly green eyes, a toothy grin, and perked and attentive pale green ear fronds. But it was the third figure that was the most eye-grabbing, despite also being the smallest. Nestled in the griffoness’s lap was a young fledgling about a year old, looking at the camera with a big laughing grin on his beak and one paw outstretched as if trying to grab it. He seemed so young, so small, and so happy that it seemed foreign…but despite all of that, Gallus still knew that face all too well.

And so did Spike. “Gallus…” he gasped, pointing a numb claw at the little fledgling, “…that’s you.”

Gallus just stared at the album, too stunned to move. “…it…it can’t be…” he breathed, realizing he was starting to hyperventilate. He watched Spike pull the album towards himself and continue flipping through it, trying to process this reveal. “How…how could it even…”

Then Spike gasped, and when Gallus looked back at him, he saw the dragon’s face visibly pale. “Gallus,” he said, before weakly swallowing and turning the album around so Gallus could see, “That wasn’t the only egg they had.”

This page featured a series of photos of the happy parents showing off a dragon egg with, by now familiar, purple spots. As if to further affirm this was a different egg from the first, a couple of the photos also showed a young Gallus examining the egg, appearing to be baffled by it. And as Gallus moved closer to get a better look, he realized there was a photo missing, having been removed from the page and leaving a faint yellowed outline framing where it’d been. Feeling a chill run down his spine, he glanced back at the corkboard and at the dragon egg photo pinned to it. Not only was it clearly the same egg, the room visible in the background was even the same. Gallus’s eyes then shot to the corkboard’s photo of him as a hatchling, suddenly realizing where it had come from…and how the photo album fit into all of this at all.

Spike seemed to be realizing all of this himself. “Sweet Celestia,” he declared, setting down the album to wrap his claws around the sides of his head.

Gallus used that chance to scoop up the album yet again, desperate to find out more. Unfortunately, only a page later, the photos ceased at about the halfway mark in the album, the rest of the pages left completely empty and never used. Heart racing, Gallus flipped back to the pictures of the dragon egg and glanced at the dates marked on them. “Spike, how many years old are you?” he asked urgently.

Spike looked at him with dazed eyes. “Fourteen,” he replied simply.

Gallus glanced back at the dates on the photos. They were taken around fourteen years previous.

The album thumped out of his grasp again as Gallus backed away from it, mind reeling. “There…there has to be another explanation for this, something…something that shows it’s not what it looks like, or…or…”

But then Spike’s eyes bulged as he realized something else. “The bloodline stone,” he murmured.

Gallus’s heart leapt as the memory of the stone tablet lighting up at their touches sprang back to his mind. “…No…”

“That’s why it has both dragon and griffon writing on it,” Spike continued to babble. “It must have been made with specifically those two in mind.” He motioned to the photo album.

Gallus’s heart then shot into a nosedive and he suddenly darted back to the desk and the sticky notes stuck to it, rereading the second one: “CONFIRM HYBRIDS.”

“No, no, no, no, no…” Gallus muttered as he backed away from the desk again.

Spike, having followed, was again thinking in sync with him. “That’s why Gene Type did the tests,” he gasped in realization. “He wanted to be sure.”

“He’s wrong,” Gallus suddenly snapped in denial. “He has to be! This…this all has to be some kind of mistake!”

“Gallus, we have photographic evidence!” Spike stressed. He jabbed a claw at the photo album. “That griffon and dragon couple are—”

“But they can’t be!” Gallus stressed in a panic. “Because if that’s true, then that’d make us…make us…” he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

But Spike could, and say it he did in an awed whisper. “…brothers. We’d be brothers.”
> Unsettled
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There could’ve been further information to uncover in that office. But by that point, Gallus was so overwhelmed by the massive reveals already uncovered that he wasn’t sure he could take more. So upon suddenly remembering he’d wanted to try and catch them some fish for dinner, he used that as an excuse to get away. He wasn’t sure Spike bought it, but the young dragon didn’t try to stop him, mumbling how it was getting late enough that they were probably due for the break anyway. Gallus wondered if he was feeling too overwhelmed as well.

In any case, Gallus used the chance to take to the air, fleeing the crash site and the secrets it held. His mind was whirling so much from the implications that for the first few minutes he wasn’t paying attention to where he was flying, having to double back for the river in question twice because he kept flying past it. Eventually he landed at the river to attempt some griffon-style fishing (by effectively snatching the fish straight out of the water) as the sun finally sank into the horizon, closing that very long, tumultuous, and exhausting day.

By that point it was actually not so great a time to try and do any fishing, but Gallus really more wanted the distraction so to try and take his mind off what’d been uncovered. He was only somewhat successful, as evidenced by the fact he frequently flubbed several chances to snag some surprisingly good catches. But these failures just gave him excuses to vent. He wasn’t sure what exactly, since his emotions were so tied up into knots that they were indiscernible from one another, but it was a chance to vent it nonetheless and that was what was important.

Eventually though he felt guilty for running from the problem and effectively leaving Spike on his own at the airship, so he finally forced himself to focus long enough to snag two modestly sized fish and start back for the crash site once dusk had fully fallen. There he found Spike had likewise exited the crashed airship and started a campfire a short distance away in a makeshift fire pit he must’ve dug himself. Gallus also instantly noticed the dragon had the photo album and was flipping through it while it rested in his lap. Sat next to him was Spike’s bag, the same he’d had when they left Ponyville, and Gallus could see Spike had slipped the bloodline stone into it, keeping it close.

Not wanting to face the reality of either of those items at the moment though, Gallus contented himself by exchanging brief greetings before sitting himself on the opposite side of the fire and focused on cleaning his catches. The most he commented on after that was to briefly acknowledge how the warm flames felt nice in the cooling night, which Spike hummed a simple agreement with. Finally, once the fish were prepped to his liking, Gallus found two sticks to serve as spits and skewered each fish apiece. He then set them up to spit-roast over the fire, rotating them every now and then to ensure they cooked evenly. An awkward silence fell as Gallus attempted to not let his attention wander back to the photo album Spike was idly flipping through.

But eventually Spike was the one to break the silence. “This all unsettles you…doesn’t it?” he asked gently, in a sympathetic but knowing tone.

Gallus sighed, actually feeling some of the tension release now he’d been called out on it. “…yeah,” he admitted. He felt like he probably should say more, but couldn’t think of what.

Spike glanced down at the photo album for a moment. “If it helps,” he began, “it looks like they were good and caring creatures.”

Gallus involuntarily winced. “Actually, it really doesn’t help,” he replied. He averted his gaze. “If anything…knowing that makes it worse.”

He felt Spike watching him for a long moment. His eyes finally went back to Spike when he heard him thump the album closed and to slip it into his bag with the bloodline stone. “I get it,” he assured the griffon calmly. “I’m…kinda blown away by it all too.” He breathed a heavy sigh. “And I can get why you don’t want to treat it as confirmed just yet, because…” he spread his arms wide symbolically. “…because I guess we haven’t definitively proved this is what we think. Just that we’ve found a theory that fits the facts. It could still be untrue, or there could still be some element to all of this we don’t know yet.” He lowered his arms. “I’m sure either way that, once we’re back home, Twilight will insist on running her own tests so to verify what’s actually going on here.”

“I’m sure,” Gallus agreed quietly, gazing into the flames of the fire as they sizzled at the cooking fish. He reached to gently rotate them both. “Either way…I’m sorry for trying to hide from it rather than face it.”

“Don’t be,” Spike assured, and gave him a small smile. “Like I said, I get it. Even…even if we are wrong about all this,” he motioned to their evidence sitting in his bag, “it’s still a hay of a lot to take in. And we’ve still had a pretty rough day, so to top it off with all of this…”

“It’s just…” Gallus groaned, frustrated. “…when I sent in that test kit…this isn’t at all where I expected it’d lead me.”

Spike frowned, looking at him thoughtfully. “Then…what were you expecting?”

“I don’t know…I guess…I guess it’d just confirm what I had already figured was the truth. That my parents were heartless nobodies who…who just hadn’t cared about what happened to me.” Gallus’s gaze turned distant. “I’m really wishing right now that actually was the case.”

Spike’s gaze saddened. “I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“Remember what we’d talked about earlier today?” Gallus replied, looking him in the eye. “About how we weren’t sure if the reality would be easier to take than the fantasy we used to fill in the blanks ourselves?”

Spike frowned and motioned again to the contents of his bag. “Wouldn’t this be better than that, though?”

“No.” Gallus jabbed a claw at the bag, glaring at it suddenly. “Because that has shown me just how dead wrong I was about it all. Spike, thinking my parents didn’t care about me made it easier for me to not care about them. But that shows that they did care…probably a lot. And it’s shown me…” he voice suddenly cracked, “…just what I might’ve lost.” He hung his head, avoiding Spike’s gaze again. “And I wasn’t ready for that.”

Spike was quiet for a long moment, studying the ashamed griffon. “Gallus,” he finally began gently, “If this is true, then it may have shown you the family you lost…but it may have also shown you the family you’ve rediscovered.”

Gallus glanced back at him, seeing the little dragon giving him a warm smile. What he was implying with that comment wasn’t lost on Gallus, of course, but he wasn’t sure how to acknowledge it—if he should acknowledge it.

A part of him didn’t want to get his hopes up just yet.

Another part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind and grab him in a bear hug and never let go of the little dragon…the creature who just may—somehow, impossibly—be his long lost little brother.

So Gallus broached another question the both of them had, up to this point, been avoiding. “So what happens if what’s in that album does prove to be true?”

Spike hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and his expression suggested the prospect daunted him. “But…whatever does happen…I hope we’ll be able to figure it out together.”

To that, Gallus snorted, grinning. “Well, we’ve already done that getting this far,” he quipped. “So might as well keep it going.”

Spike returned the grin. It seemed that was answer enough for him.

They fell silent again for the next few minutes, leaving each other to their respective thoughts while the fish finished cooking. It wasn’t too long though before they were a nice golden brown on both sides and Gallus decreed them cooked enough. Suddenly feeling hungry, he handed one over for Spike before taking one for himself and ravenously digging in. Once the first few bites had settled into his empty stomach though, his attention returned to Spike and noticed he was still uncertainly holding his fish before him, uneaten.

It only took a couple moments of thought to reason out the likely explanation. “Let me guess,” Gallus said with a smirk, “You’ve never eaten a fish before.”

Spike winced, embarrassed. “…is it that obvious?” he replied awkwardly.

“You know, I’ve been around Smolder long enough to know a dragon eating a fish is really no big deal. If it weren’t for the whole gem eating thing, you guys would probably veer more carnivore than not.”

“I know.” Spike sighed, looking the fish over. “It’s just…well…”

“…you were raised by grass-munching ponies that don’t really go for the meaty foods.”

“I mean, I have eaten meat before,” Spike assured, as if trying to prove himself. “I’ve just…not really been in the habit.” He paused then added, “Because I don’t really come across the meat-based foods that often, see.”

“Sure,” Gallus replied, but knew what Spike didn’t want to say too—the kid hadn’t ever gone hunting for the meat.

Spike seemed to suspect he’d recognized that too and apparently felt the need to defend himself. “Well, you try getting your claws on this stuff when Fluttershy is one of the ponies you regularly associate with,” he challenged.

“Dude, who do you think hooks up some of us preds at the school?”

Spike’s eyebrows went up. “Wait, really?” he asked, surprised. “I mean, I knew the school had always tried to accommodate the carnivore diets from the start, but…Fluttershy? Really?”

“Hey, the gal may be the gentlest animal-loving creature on the planet, but she still knows how food chains work and all that.” Gallus chewed on his fish some more while giving Spike a moment to process that. He then nodded his head at the dragon’s still-untouched meal. “You know I can guarantee you’ll like it best while it’s still hot.”

Spike turned his attention back to his fish, holding it in front of him. He then took a deep breath and, reaching out carefully with his mouth like he was afraid the fish would suddenly snap back at him, took a cautious bite out of it. Gallus watched, bemused, as he chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then hummed in apparent approval and leaned in to take another, less restrained, bite.

“See, not so bad, is it?” Gallus said with a smirk.

Spike tried to make an indifferent shrug. “It’s…okay, I guess,” he admitted, but now that the ice had been broken, he wasn’t really holding back anymore while eating more and more of the roasted fish.

They continued to eat mostly in silence after that, save for a couple more passing comments about their meal. During that time, neither of them noticed any changes about their surroundings until they’d mostly finished and Gallus suddenly perked up. “Shh, you hear that?” he interjected, motioning for Spike to be quiet.

Spike lowered what little remained of his fish and perked his ear fronds so to listen as well. The gradual changes in his expression as he, too, picked up on that distant drone gradually growing louder and clearer showed he understood the significance as well. “That sounds like an engine,” he guessed aloud.

“An airship engine,” Gallus added with a nod, hope starting to rise within him.

The implications clear, they both got to their feet and started scanning the skies in the direction the sound seemed to be coming from. This was made somewhat more difficult by the fact the already dark skies were made even darker by it still being overcast, hiding the light of the stars. The moon wasn’t readily visible so to contribute its own light either. Nevertheless, Gallus was the one who eventually spied it.

“There,” he said, pointing with a talon at the shape slowly moving in their general direction. Once spotted, it was easy to tell it was indeed an airship, although still too far away to make out any more details than that in this lighting. He hoped that would all change as it drew nearer, which seemed likely once he plotted out in his head its apparent course. “They’re definitely heading our way.”

“They should be able to see our campfire from there already,” Spike reasoned, squinting his eyes at the approaching craft. “That should be enough to make them think something’s up and want to investigate, right?”

“Might as well not take any chances though,” Gallus said and turned to Spike. “Where’s that flare gun we found earlier?”

Spike pointed at their own wrecked airship. “I left it in the control room with the other supplies we gathered. I figured it’d be more sheltered from the elements there.”

“Then let’s go fetch it,” Gallus said, extending his wings and taking flight with Spike quickly following.

Landing at a quick trot in the dark compartment, he went right for where Spike had left the bag of supplies next to the helm and swiftly rooted through it for the flare gun. Wrapping his talons on its grip, he whipped it out and ran back to the broken forward window they’d entered through, Spike keeping beside him so to watch. There, he aimed the gun upwards before firing. There was a loud pop as the brilliant red glow of the flare shot nearly straight up into the sky like a burning, sparkling, meteor for several feet before slowing as it reached its peak and gradually started sinking back to the ground somewhere ahead of the crash site altogether.

It was easily the brightest thing for miles around and impossible to miss. Nevertheless, Gallus decided to pop open the gun so to load their remaining charge as a precaution. In the meantime, the approaching airship drew ever closer, now close enough that other details about it started becoming clear.

“Not an especially big airship, is it?” Spike observed, noting its size and shape. “It can’t be any bigger than Gene Type’s is…or was.”

Gallus squinted at it for a second as he finished reloading the flare gun. “You know, I’m thinking it might be a griffon patrol ship,” he remarked. “They go around the borders looking for any troublemakers or, in our case, rendering assistance where needed.”

“Well, that’s a plus,” Spike said, allowing himself a small grin. “Still, it can’t be too roomy on it.”

“Especially as they’re typically crewed with as many foot soldiers as can be squeezed aboard,” Gallus added. “But I’ve never been aboard one myself, so what would I know? Maybe there’s more room than it looks.”

Further speculation nevertheless stalled out after that though as by then the aircraft had closed in enough it could’ve only come to investigate the crash site. Soon thereafter it switched on a blindingly bright spotlight mounted on its underside and began using it to start sweeping over the area. It lingered once it fell upon them, making it clear they’d been noticed. Both Gallus and Spike cheerfully started waving back at the closing patrol ship so to make themselves even more noticeable, hopes soaring that they were about to be rescued at last.

Until Gallus saw a cannon drop into place further back on the patrol ship’s underbelly and start to take aim.

The cannon fired producing a yellowish muzzle flash the same time Gallus spun around and dove for Spike standing next to him. He could hear the loud whistle of the fired shell careening towards them as he protectively pinned the dragon to the deck. It hit the aft section of the downed airship the second immediately following and exploded, spending a burst of hot air and flames careening through the control room doorway. Gallus felt the craft tip further to one side as debris rained down on them, the force of the impact having given it a hard shove. He could also hear the hull of the craft creak, groan, and crumple, and knew it wouldn’t withstand much more of this. The orange glow of flames suggested it had caught aflame anyway, so he knew they needed to flee.

“They’re shooting at us!” Spike yelled in a panic as Gallus jumped up and pulled the dragon upright again. “Why are they shooting at us?!”

Gallus didn’t reply as he instead whipped out the flare gun and fired again, this time directly at the attacking patrol ship. The slow-moving flare would never come close enough to hit it, but he hoped its light would blind their attackers long enough to give them a head start. “Run!” he commanded Spike, pushing him for the forward window and opening his wings to take flight.

They’d barely gotten clear of the airship when the patrol ship fired again, their second shot hitting the forward section and dealing similar damage as it had to the aft. The blast’s shockwave slammed into the two fleeing creatures and easily knocked them out of the air. Gallus felt the flare gun tumble out of his claws upon hitting the ground, vanishing from view, but knowing it was out of rounds anyway he didn’t waste time trying to find it. He instead focused on recovering Spike, who was already picking himself up and starting to keep pace with him as they dashed past their forgotten campfire. Spike quickly snagged his bag with the photo album and bloodline stone inside as he ran past.

A split second later, the patrol ship, having quickly reoriented itself, fired for a third time directly at the fleeing creatures. This shot hit the ground just a matter of feet behind them, the blast bowling them over and exploding their campfire, effectively extinguishing it—now the only light they had was coming from the burning remains of their airship behind them and the spotlight from their attackers, neither of which was reassuring. But the third impact had also kicked up a large cloud of dust and dirt that swiftly engulfed them, obscuring them from immediate view and telling Gallus they still had a chance.

“Get to the trees!” he urged Spike as they got up and ran again for the tree line. It had always only been a matter of just a scant few feet from their crashed airship, but at the moment it seemed like it could’ve been miles away.

Nevertheless, they safely got into the trees before the patrol ship could fire again, and once there could count on the canopy of branches to help give them cover. Still, Gallus realized they couldn’t begin to expect that to be enough as surely the patrol ship would still find a way to give chase and decided they needed their attackers to lose their trail entirely. So, scooping up Spike in his arms, he took to the air again, dodging around trees at high speed—a dangerous prospect given the dim lighting and the fire burning behind him further messing with his night vision—until he arrived at a large natural boulder dozens of feet away from the crash site and landed atop of it, ducking low before looking back in the direction they’d come.

The spotlight of the attacking patrol ship could be seen through the forest canopy, sweeping across the area in search of them, but it only had a rough idea of where they’d gone. Not enough to try firing at them again certainly, so they were at least safe from that for the moment. However the crash site they’d just left was fully aglow with the crashed airship slowly burning to the ground along with everything in it. Gallus briefly wondered what other secrets still inside they might be losing in the process, but was swiftly distracted from that when he saw creatures moving in the firelight, sweeping out into the forest in all directions from the crash site.

“Ground troops,” Gallus whispered under his breath, figuring the patrol ship must’ve dropped them off so to continue the chase on foot.

“Of course they aren’t going to give up that easily,” Spike grumbled quietly from beside him, but Gallus could feel him trembling in fear—he couldn’t blame him as he was pretty sure his own body was doing the same. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m thinking,” Gallus hissed back and motioned for him to be quiet.

It was clear staying where they were wouldn’t be enough as they were still too visible atop of the boulder, even if it was tall enough to take them out of immediate view. But he also doubted they could really outrun their pursuers at this point, especially as they clearly had the advantage of numbers. He thusly concluded that their best option was to keep moving and hope to spy a better hiding spot, so he grabbed Spike in his arms again and resumed flying between the trees so to minimalize any trails they left behind.

They were moving fast enough to stay just ahead of their pursuers yet also dark enough to make it very difficult to discern useful details about their surroundings. But finally Gallus spied what he hoped would be their salvation: a tree with one side of its interweaving roots exposed enough to leave a hollow space underneath. He guessed it should be just big enough for them to hide in, but also concealed enough that he hoped it’d be easily overlooked by their pursuers in the dark lighting. It wasn’t like they had any alternatives though, so he immediately looped back around and all but dive-bombed for it, quickly squeezing himself under.

Spike thankfully didn’t need to be told what the plan was and silently followed his lead without any objection, even though neither of them was left any room to spare in this hiding space. It was small enough that normally it would trigger Gallus’s claustrophobia, but the fear of their pursuers overruled and for once his claustrophobia never took hold. Instead, he protectively held Spike close to him, keeping one paw over the dragon’s mouth as a precaution while trying his hardest to keep his own beak clamped shut. He barely even dared to breathe for fear of being overheard.

A tense moment passed as they anxiously peered through the gaps in the roots for their pursuers. The patrol ship’s spotlight swept over an area nearby, and the rumble of its engines made it clear it was still close. Then they stiffened as they heard the steps of creatures moving through the foliage nearby. Gallus could make out two griffons talking between themselves as they drew closer.

“C’mon, they must’ve gone in this direction. What few tracks they left pointed this way, at least,” one was heard saying.

“I hope so,” the other replied, “because I am not interested in trudging through these woods all night. What’s so important about these two anyway?”

“I don’t know, that’s for the commanders to know,” the first replied. Gallus instinctively tensed as he was the first to roam into his view, the armored griffon only a dozen or so feet away from their hiding spot. “All I do know is that we’re supposed to find them and put them down, even if it means lethal force, so…they must’ve done something to tick off the higher-ups like that.”

“Commodore Garrett did seem insistent that they couldn’t get away,” the second one noted. He was still somewhere out of Gallus’s view, but he sounded worryingly closer than the first. “There’s just so much secrecy to all of this though…”

“Hey, we aren’t paid to think, we’re paid to follow orders,” the first said, looking back in the direction of his compatriot. “Now hurry up and come on, or we really will be out here all night.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there.” The second griffon was heard moving in the direction of the first. Relievingly, both looked like they were about to move on, but then the second griffon suddenly slowed. “Actually, no, hold up for a second.”

“Why? You found something?”

“…maybe? I guess it’s more of a hunch so just…just give me a sec to double-check.”

Gallus tensed further and both he and Spike squeezed themselves as deep down into their hiding space as much as they could, praying it’d be enough while holding their breaths. Alarmingly, the second griffon was heard moving dangerously close to where they hid, proceeding to poke around their general area. Then, as if the several tense moments listening to him doing this weren’t bad enough, he stopped entirely somewhere nearby. Gallus couldn’t tell if he’d stopped at their tree precisely or not, but he sounded so close—enough that his every little movement was easy to hear—that if not their tree, then it had to have been one right next to it.

The first griffon stood watching him nearby. “You finding anything?” he asked with strained patience while the other continued to be heard rustling distressingly close.

For a tense moment, the second griffon hesitated to reply. “…no,” he finally replied, though with clear uncertainty. “No, I don’t think so…guess it wasn’t that great of a hunch anyway.” 

The first griffon scoffed in frustration. “Really? You wasted our time for nothing?”

“Hey, we were deployed from the Reliant so abruptly, I’m lucky I even have a clue about what’s going on,” the second retorted as he hurried to rejoin the first, moving away again. “So cut me some slack!”

“Oh, I’ll cut you all right, if you don’t get your head in the game!” the first replied as they finally moved on again.

Their bickering continued, but it quickly faded from easy hearing as they left, unaware their targets had been hiding nearby. Nevertheless, Gallus and Spike continued holding their breaths, not ready to let their guard down. The minutes ticked by slowly, but other than the patrol ship—the Reliant, apparently—flying over their location as it searched from the air, no other dangers seemed to be coming their way. More importantly, it seemed no one else knew they were there. When a prolonged stretch of silence fell without further event and the sounds of the ongoing search continuing to move away from them, they let themselves relax a little. Still, they dared not leave the hole they had squeezed themselves into.

“How long do you think you can stand being here?” Spike whispered after another prolonged moment, probably remembering Gallus’s claustrophobia.

Admittedly, being crammed in here wasn’t pleasant for the griffon, but the gaps in the roots above them helped give the sense he wasn’t totally encased in here, taking some of the edge off. “Honestly, I think being out there in the open would bother me more right now,” he whispered back after a second of consideration.

“Good, because I’m thinking we shouldn’t press our luck until we’re sure they’re gone and aren’t coming back,” Spike reasoned.

When the Reliant’s spotlight was seen passing by in the distance, Gallus was forced to nod in agreement. “Better get comfortable then, because I think we’re going to be here for a while.”

The hours passed agonizingly slowly. They had no other close calls venturing near their hiding spot after those two griffons, and they never returned to the area. The Reliant flew over the area once or twice more going both ways, but their hiding spot was too sheltered to be visible from the patrol ship. Eventually, Gallus became certain the search was indeed moving away from them, but very slowly, and as he could still distantly hear them sifting through the foliage, he knew they were still close enough to be a real danger. Meanwhile, the night grew darker still as time passed. The fire consuming what remained of Gene Type’s airship eventually going out, removing the nearest of their light sources, only added to the depth of the darkness.

As it grew ever later and the adrenaline rush of the chase wearing off, Spike eventually dozed off. With exhaustion slowly seeping more and more into his own body the later it got, Gallus was envious. But he forced himself to stay awake so to continue keeping watch as a precaution, wanting to at least give it another couple hours first. It eventually got to the point though that Gallus needed something to distract him or else his growing tiredness would lull him asleep without realizing. Unfortunately, he had nothing of use in their hiding hollow except whatever was in Spike’s bag. And he was forcibly reminded of the complications of its contents when accidentally brushing a talon against the bloodline stone inside briefly caused it to light up before swiftly removing his touch again, afraid the light would give them away.

To be honest, dealing with either it or the photo album were still the last things he wanted to do right now, but having literally nothing else to do, his combined boredom and exhaustion finally drove him to bite the bullet and carefully pull out the photo album. If what it contained really was the reality he was going to have to live in now, he decided he might as well figure out the full extent of what he was getting into. So, having just enough light to see the pages, he pulled open the photo album to its beginning and started going through it once more, this time taking in the details of the photos more fully.

He found it surreal, looking at these pictures of what might be his parents, so much so his brain was doing flip-flops trying to comprehend this life he wasn’t sure he even remembered. He often found himself squinting at their faces and wondering if the faint sense of familiarity he got from them was the tug of some forgotten memory or just wishful thinking on his part. It was actually frustrating, because every now and then he’d get the unbidden glimpses of echoes in the back of his head, like the warm smile of the griffoness or the feel of the male dragon’s scales under his talons, but still feel terribly uncertain if it was actually a real memory or not.

Whatever the case, Spike was right. They did seem to be loving creatures who clearly loved each other as much as the youth that eventually arose in their care. Though that raised a new series of questions once Gallus reached the pictures where his younger self started appearing—were he and Spike really related to these two creatures? The idea of a griffon and a dragon being in a serious relationship like that, let alone bearing offspring, seemed so foreign to him that it was still Gallus’s first instinct to deny it. Besides, he’d shown no signs of mixed breeding that he could tell for most of his life, enough to have felt confident he was a full-blood griffon, so how could he possibly have any dragon blood in his parentage? He kept thinking to himself that surely these two creatures merely adopting them as eggs was the more plausible explanation.

But then he’d get to looking at the photos of him as a young griffon, slowly growing from newly hatched to fledgling, and compare his image with that of the griffoness and dragon caring for him and…he couldn’t help but see the relation more and more. Yes, despite his presumed dragon father, he still looked fully griffon. But he still had a couple clear traits from that father—his plumage was a cerulean color with a creamy tan belly, not unlike his father’s own dark navy blue and creamy tan colors. Yet his crest of feathers also faded to golden yellow at the tips like his presumed griffon mother as well as sharing her vibrant azure eyes.

And it wasn’t just him either—Spike bore spines that, despite being slightly rounder in shape, were otherwise virtually identical to his father’s, as well as also having the same eye and ear frond colors. He also had the mother’s warm smile and her rounded face. It even occurred to Gallus that Spike’s purple coloring could theoretically stem from some blending of the father’s navy blue and the mother’s yellow-orange. It was just too many similarities to be a mere coincidence either way.

But…what did that all mean then? What had happened to these lost parents? Considering how much Gallus and Spike were wanted dead, had they faced the same thing and just weren’t as lucky as he and Spike had thus far been? But then how did he and Spike escape that same fate back then, and why such a long delay before trying again now? Why were they wanted dead at all, for that matter? And above all else, who wanted them dead? Because in combination with Gene Type’s allusion he wasn’t working alone and the implications that the patrol ship griffons had been roped into assisting, it was clear they hadn’t yet met the actual mastermind of this whole scheme…just some of their pawns and lackeys. Which raised yet another question—who’d have the resources to recruit such a group of creatures?

Incidentally, it was as Gallus was considering all of these questions that he found an important clue towards some answers.

It was in an innocent looking photo about a third of the way into the album. It featured the griffoness seated on an ugly and second hand couch with a wide array of parchments and texts sprawled out on the table in front of her. It was a safe guess she’d been hard at work at the time the photo was taken presumably by her draconic partner since he was not visible. However, she clearly wasn’t so busy to not stop and smile for the camera, because she’d done precisely that.

But she wasn’t the only creature in the picture. Another, older, griffon was seated on the couch behind the griffoness so much so she mostly obscured him from view. It was enough that if you weren’t looking closely at the photo, he’d be easy to miss, but he was there nonetheless. At the time the photo had been taken, he had slightly less wrinkles and slightly more feathers in his crest. But Gallus still recognized his annoyed face all the same, and even if he hadn’t, the fact his left eye was milky white from blindness all but gave him away as Grandpa Gruff nonetheless.

Which meant Gruff had known at least this mysterious griffoness, and at a time after Gallus had already hatched from his egg and clearly visible within the household no less.

He knew, Gallus slowly realized to himself, shocked. He KNEW.

Gallus’s grip on the photo album started to tighten the more and more he thought about it. His eyes became alight in fury while anger built more and more within him as the implications sank in fully. It got to the point that Gallus threw caution to the wind once it all reached a boiling point.

“I’m going to KILL HIM!”
> Little Robin
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gallus’s anger must’ve sapped him of the last of his strength, because he apparently nodded off not long thereafter and, like Spike, remained asleep for the remainder of the night. Fortunately, they stayed completely undisturbed by anything through that whole time, with nobody finding them in their hiding spot. Indeed, by the time dawn eventually came and went, those searching for them had long left the area, thinking their targets had kept traveling deeper into the forest and unaware they’d instead stayed relatively close to the remains of the crash site.

Morning actually settled upon the area rather peacefully, so much so that Gallus probably would’ve preferred to sleep in, given the late night and stressful day preceding it. Unfortunately he was lulled awake again by nature calling, and it swiftly got to the point that, as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to ignore it for much longer. So upon confirming they were no longer in imminent danger, he checked to see how Spike was doing. He was still asleep, though starting to stir enough that Gallus figured he’d soon be waking up too. Nevertheless, Gallus carefully tried not to disturb him as he extracted himself from the hollow they’d hidden in. Then, that done, he stopped to do some full body stretches, realizing just how cramped he had gotten spending the night in that tight space. He was glad it was over as he wasn’t at all eager to return to it now that he didn’t have someone chasing him.

Actually, now that a warm morning light was filtering through the forest canopy, yesterday’s storm clouds having cleared up, the area looked a lot prettier than it’d seemed the night previous. But his bladder reminded him now wasn’t the time to stop and savor it, so Gallus turned his focus back to why he’d gotten up in the first place. He opted to move somewhere a little further away from their hiding spot to do it and figured that, while he was at it, he might as well see if he could figure out how close that griffon trooper had gotten last night, if just to see how narrow an escape that had been. It took a second because it turned out he’d been further away from their hiding spot than it seemed—closer to four or five trees away than the one or two Gallus had been sure it was. But there was no mistaking it once he found it because the distinct and relatively fresh paw print of an adult male griffon had been left near the base of a tree. Out of spite, Gallus decided to wash it away with a bit leg-lifting.

That need out of the way, Gallus’s stomach decided to nominate itself as the next priority since the fish he and Spike had eaten for dinner now seemed like ancient history. In fact, he realized he had scant little to eat yesterday once all was said and done, and felt well overdue for putting a proper meal into his belly. Unfortunately, he feared there was no chance of getting such a meal, especially as he realized that, in their haste to escape, they’d left the bag of salvaged supplies back at the airship which had surely burned to a crisp. He wasn’t going to risk going back to double check either way, in case guards had been left there for that very reason. But it meant all they had left in terms of belongings was whatever was in Spike’s bag, as Gallus realized he’d left his own bag behind too (not that he really had anything in it that couldn’t be easily replaced but he noted the loss nonetheless).

Thankfully, Gallus was no stranger to scavenging for food, a fact he technically demonstrated the previous night with the fish. However, he wasn’t inclined to do the fish again as he wasn’t certain where the river was in relation to where they were now, and he didn’t want to fly high enough to find it again for fear that’d make him easily visible to pursuers if they were still in the area. But they shouldn’t risk making another fire to cook them over when they were trying to lay low anyway. He instead decided on a food that they both could eat and enjoy fully raw without fear of consequence.

So when Spike got up for the day in time to see Gallus returning to their hiding spot, the griffon returned with his arms full of small magenta colored berries. “What’s this?” Spike asked as Gallus rejoined him.

“Breakfast,” Gallus explained optimistically as he dumped the cherry-sized berries onto a relatively clear spot on the ground. “They’re called hobo fruit, and they’re everywhere in this part of the Griffon Kingdom. I’ve eaten them loads of times. They’re tasty and nutritious enough when in pinches like now.” He took the liberty of popping one into his mouth as he sat down next to the small pile.

Spike joined him, picking up one of the berries to skeptically look over. He then took a cautious bite out of it, only to be surprised when doing so squirted its juices and small seeds over his snout.

Gallus chuckled. “Yeah, they’ll do that, so just pop them into your mouth whole,” he advised.

Wiping off his face, Spike did so when he trying again with the next berry. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Huh!” he remarked, surprised. “It’s sorta like a cherry tomato except sweet, almost tangy.”

“Yeah, they grow on you quick,” Gallus agreed, continuing to help himself, particularly with his stomach clamoring for more to fill it with.

Spike’s stomach apparently had similar thoughts because he started eating just as liberally. “But why are they called hobo fruit?” he asked, puzzled as they ate.

“Because they’re an easy food source for…less fortunate…griffons, hence the name,” Gallus explained. But he shrugged, indifferent about the stereotype. “But like I said, you can find them everywhere in these parts, so they’re super convenient for scavengers.”

“Well, it’s a good start to my morning regardless,” Spike remarked with a warm grin.

Gallus nodded, returning the grin for a second before sighing heavily, the moment of cheer vanishing as quickly as it came. “I almost hate getting back to the serious stuff then, but…Spike, you should know what I found last night.”

And with that, he pulled out the photo album and explained what he’d discovered, showing Spike the photograph with Grandpa Gruff in the background.

Brow furrowed, Spike studied it for a long moment. “That does look awfully like Gruff all right,” he admitted.

“It is Gruff,” Gallus insisted, his mood darkening now that he was focused on the subject again. “I’d know that face anywhere.”

Spike studied him for a moment. “Do you think he’s behind all of this?” he asked.

Gallus hesitated. “He’s at least involved. He has to be.”

“But then I don’t understand,” Spike went on, looking at it logically. “If that’s true, then why is all of this happening now? It could’ve happened years ago if he’s really been involved for that long, so why wait until now to act?”

“…I don’t know,” Gallus admitted, who conceded it was a fair point. He realized he had at some point gotten up to start fitfully pacing without realizing it. “But he still knew, Spike. He knew and he never told me! So if nothing else, he darn well owes me a good explanation for it!”

“Okay,” Spike concluded, closing the album and returning it to his bag. “So what do we do about it?”

Gallus kept pacing for a second longer. “I guess the same thing we already decided to do last night,” he replied. He pointed towards the mountains visible in the distance. “Griffonstone should be on the closest of those mountains. We go there and find Gruff, try and get answers out of him, and get word back to Princess Twilight so we can finally go home.”

“But if that griffon patrol ship was hunting us,” Spike pointed out, “then the authorities at Griffonstone will probably be looking for us as well.”

“I’ve got some ideas about how we can get around that,” Gallus assured, who was thinking he’d probably have to call in a favor or two to do it, but it should be doable if he played his cards right. “But we gotta get there first, which means since we probably shouldn’t fly there, we’re going to want to start hiking now so to maximize as much daylight we’d have left by the time we get there. We might even be able to get there by this afternoon.”

Spike took a deep breath and Gallus sensed he had his doubts. But he also still seemed to trust Gallus at his word. “Well, you know the land better than I do,” he admitted. He grabbed at his advisor’s medallion that had managed to stay around his neck this whole time, despite everything. “And my authority is pretty much worthless out here, so…I guess you’ll have to call the shots for now anyway.”

Gallus, feeling guilty, stepped forward and placed a paw on the dragon’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re just as much in this as I am,” he assured.

“I know,” Spike replied. “But I’m also dragon enough to admit that I’m a little out of my league, and I don’t have a better plan anyway.” He shrugged. “You seem to know what you’re doing, so…you can take the lead.”

Gallus took a deep breath then nodded. “All right, if you’re okay with it,” he reasoned, and handed him Spike’s bag. “But if you think of any suggestions along the way, I want to hear them. Just because I have the best plan at the moment doesn’t mean we can’t try to make it better as we go. Besides, we’re going to have plenty of time to think about it on the way.”

Spike nodded, accepting the bag. “Agreed.”

They stopped long enough to take what hobo fruit they hadn’t eaten and transferred them into a pocket on Spike’s bag so to have something to munch along the way, but once that was done they set off without further delay. At that point there really wasn’t much reason for them to stick in the area anyway. As they went, Gallus plotted out their path in his head, distractedly explaining to Spike that this was somewhat difficult due to how he’d normally make the journey either by air or by following one of the roads he knew would eventually run to Griffonstone. But as both routes would be monitored by those hunting them, it was smarter to avoid them and hike through the middle of the wilderness instead, despite it being the more difficult—and for him, more unfamiliar—route.

Spike listened patiently to him rambling on about this for several minutes, but finally Gallus ran out of idle talk and the dragon used to chance to bring up something Gallus had been wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it sooner. “So I’m sort of surprised you were going through the photo album,” he remarked gently.

Gallus sighed, not really wanting to talk about it. “It was late and I needed something to keep my mind awake and busy,” he explained simply. He shrugged. “I was kinda short on alternatives.”

Spike nodded to himself. “It’s just I know the whole subject is…uncomfortable.”

“Yes, but hiding from it isn’t going to make it go away either,” Gallus confessed reluctantly. “And…if it really is the reality I’m going to have to face…then I might as well learn to live with it now.”

Now Spike hesitated. “You know, I don’t blame you at all for still wanting to deny it,” he assured. “I’m…still not totally sure how much I believe it myself. Because the photos help but…they still don’t tell the whole story, meaning there’s still things we just don’t know about what happened.” He rolled his eyes. “For all we know, that’s not actually either of us in those photos but just some lookalikes…”

“No,” Gallus rejected suddenly, surprising himself by how readily it spilled from his beak. “That’s definitely me in those photos. And if that’s true for me, then…” he trailed off, not really wanting to speak on Spike’s behalf. To his surprise though, Spike didn’t react much more than give him a thoughtful look. So he continued. “At the very least, I’d still want Princess Twilight to try and verify it first with…more testing I guess.”

Spike was silent for a moment. “Testing Gene Type may have already done,” he couldn’t help but point out.

A thought Gallus already had himself, and it was obvious what answer Gene Type and those affiliated with him suspected. But it wasn’t the only point. “And there’s also that bloodline stone to consider.”

Spike reached around to place a paw on his pack holding the tablet. “Among other things,” he added, telling Gallus he wasn’t convinced things weren’t as they seemed either…even if they both weren’t ready to accept that.

An awkward silence fell as they continued hiking through the forested wilderness.

“How do you think Gruff knew…them…anyway?” Spike posed finally. “Do you think he might be…a relation?”

Gallus snorted. “No. Gruff’s not got any relatives, at least none younger than him let alone alive.”

“Then…why is he called Grandpa Gruff?”

“Because he’s older than dirt, old enough to be just about anyone’s grandpa, so everyone calls him that. But in reality, his name is just Gruff.” Gallus rolled his eyes. “In both name and spirit.”

Spike groaned. “Yeah, that much was obvious from the moment I first met him,” he was forced to agree.

“How did you meet Gruff?” Gallus asked. “I mean obviously you would have at some point, but…”

“Back when Twilight was still setting up the School of Friendship,” Spike replied. “She met with him so to try and sell him, and in turn the lords he worked for, on the idea of sending a griffon to the school.” He made a small smile, glancing at Gallus. “Obviously, we succeeded. Or rather Twilight did, because she did most of the talking. I was…in the room. Gruff didn’t really talk to me during that.” Spike shrugged. “After that, I typically saw him whenever he came to discuss school business but that was usually pretty brief. Most I think he’s ever said to me was to ask me what my name was.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Gruff,” Gallus said. “He tends to dismiss anyone he doesn’t think important to whatever he’s doing.”

“I suppose you’d know, being the one who knows him best,” Spike reasoned.

Gallus’s gaze turned distant. “Not as much as you’d think. I didn’t actually meet Gruff until about a few months before getting enrolled in the School of Friendship.”

“Really?” Spike asked, shocked. “I’d figured you’d have known him for, like, decades or something.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not that much older than you, so drop the plural—I’m not old enough to know anyone for longer than that,” Gallus retorted. “Second, I’d of course heard of Gruff plenty before then. The guy’s got a reputation after all. But never actually came face to face with him until Gilda basically ensured it happened.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Wait…Gilda? Oh, that’s right, I’d forgotten you know Gilda. But how does she fit into this?”

“Business for her scone stand was booming and she needed extra talons to meet the increasing demand,” Gallus explained, before going on to tell the whole story. “By that time I knew how to follow a recipe and old enough to work jobs cooking for bits. When she offered me an actual fair wage, which was oodles better than what any other griffon would’ve paid me at the time, I naturally jumped at the chance. Met Gruff literally my first day on the job. Apparently he’s a regular to Gilda’s stand.”

“He must like scones then.”

“I think it’s more because he and her are neighbors and thus have…a history.” Gallus waved that matter aside. “But yeah, I hear Gilda cynically say ‘here comes Gruff’ and look up in time for him to trot up to the stand.” His gaze turned distant as the memory replayed in his mind. “At first he didn’t notice me, focusing his attention all on Gilda, but then he spots me working behind her and demands to know who I was. I tell him my name and Gilda explains she’d hired me to cook. Gruff grumbled about how I’d probably do it wrong, but he made his order nonetheless.” He shrugged. “He didn’t really say much else to me except to ask if I was a local—which I confirmed—and to observe that we’d probably see a lot of each other in the future now. He sounded disdainful, so I got the impression he didn’t like me much.”

Spike’s brow had furrowed, processing this new information. “And he didn’t react to you any more than that? Didn’t appear to recognize you in any way?”

“Not really, no. When he visited the stand after that, he usually didn’t talk to me except to occasionally ask if I was keeping out of trouble. And that never gave me much sense that he cared, just that he didn’t want me to be a problem and didn’t trust I would stay that way.”

“Well, if he does know about this mess we’re in, then it would make sense he thought trouble might find you eventually.”

“Except you’d think that’d make him want to keep a close eye on me, but he didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. In fact, that I was surprised when he came and announced he’d enrolled me at the school a few months later.” Gallus had to chuckle at the memory though. “Gilda was furious when she heard that, because he hadn’t discussed it at all with her, what with it robbing her of her cook. But in Gruff’s mind, the decision had already been made.”

“So it sounds like you didn’t have much say in it either.”

“I didn’t. But while I wasn’t totally sold on the concept, it did guarantee me meals and a roof over my head, a massive plus, so I decided to live with it.” Gallus’s gaze turned wistful. “And I’m glad I did, because to be honest…the school’s the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

Spike nodded distractedly in agreement, but otherwise still seemed befuddled. “But then…why send you?”

“Honestly? I figured it was just Gruff’s way of getting me off the streets and out from underpaw,” Gallus admitted.

“But then Neighsay happened, and then Cozy,” Spike reminded, “and both times I remember him suddenly being adamant that you go back to Griffonstone with him, not stay at the school.”

Gallus paused, seeing the point. “I took it as him being uncooperative at the time, but yeah, it is weird he reversed course on that so suddenly. He’s since complained a lot about me staying at the school, in fact.”

“And Gabby told me once that he insists on constant updates while you’re at the school,” Spike added, recalling the conversation with the griffoness mail carrier.

“But it’s not like he cared what happened to me, right?” Gallus asked with a snort. “I mean, you heard what happened between him and Trixie that one parent/teacher conference, right?”

“Everybody heard about that,” Spike assured with a wince. “Gruff didn’t exactly win a lot of fans that day.” His face screwed up even more at this though. “But that just means I’m getting a lot of mixed signals over this.”

“You see why I want answers from him then?” Gallus stressed. “The best way to get this straight is to hear it from his beak.”

“But if he is in some way involved with Gene Type and whoever else is behind this mess…” Spike began to warn.

“All the more reason to confront him about it,” Gallus reasoned back undeterred, “and besides, why would he act like he’s actually concerned what happens to me on one side but also act like he just wants me out of his way on the other?”

Spike gave him a concerned look. “Just…what are you expecting to get out of him then, Gallus?”

Gallus mulled it over for a long moment as they hiked along. “The truth,” he finally concluded.



 

The hike was long and weary, but it fortunately all transpired without much event. Never once did they encounter or even come close to anyone who might be looking for them. For that matter, they never encountered any other creatures except for some of the local wildlife, and even that made a point of keeping its distance. Gallus joked about how it must be because they were marked targets, but Spike didn’t find it very funny. Nevertheless, they spent the long hours of the hike to themselves, sporadically chatting about nothing in particular, but it still helped take their minds off of their stressful circumstances. Gallus actually had to be impressed by how much he and Spike had bonded through all of this.

But he supposed fighting for your lives together tended to do that.

It wasn’t until nearly noon that Griffonstone finally came into view, hidden as it was behind its mountain, and it was some time after that before they actually neared its borders. Gallus viewed the city built into an ancient tree with mixed feelings, because on one side, it was familiar, since it had effectively served as home for so much of his life…but it also hadn’t left him with very fond memories, and it only made him long for the frankly better life he had been living in Equestria lately.

And he hoped he would be back there soon. But for now he knew that, regardless of his thoughts on the matter, their best hopes lay within this den of griffons. Naturally that was easier said than done, because as they drew nearer, it became abundantly clear there were indeed guards stationed about the city’s perimeter, no doubt keeping an eye out for them as feared. The city’s main entrance, in fact, was rather heavily guarded, checking every creature that passed through.

“Well, we’re not getting in that way,” Spike concluded with a heavy sigh, looking on at the sight from afar as they cautiously peeked around a large boulder to survey the situation.

But Gallus wasn’t perturbed. “Didn’t plan to yet,” he replied and urged Spike to quietly follow him down a different, lesser used, path leading further away from the city. This path wrapped down around the edge of the peak Griffonstone sat upon, out of the main entrance’s line of sight, and ran precariously around the stony cliff faces of the mountain. It left enough space to safely hike up and down it and still give the edge a respectable distance, but not much more than that.

It’s more haphazardous appearance and the fact it seemed to lead away from the city they planned to enter confused Spike. “Where are we going?” he asked as he uncertainly continued to follow Gallus’s lead.

“To go call in a favor,” Gallus assured, still confidently hiking down the, to him, very familiar path. He eyed the sun’s position in the sky, still close to its peak but visibly starting its downward descent again as they entered the latter half of the day. “I’ll explain more later, but we’ve arrived at literally the best time to do this so I don’t want to dawdle any longer than we have to. For now stay close to me.”

He motioned for Spike to stay by his mountain-facing side, where he’d be partly blocked from view by any onlookers—as a dragon, he would stand out more than Gallus in a city populated by griffons after all. Spike fortunately had no objections and obediently did so. He seemed to trust that Gallus had a plan and knew what he was doing, trust Gallus appreciated because he knew that even if he had the luxury of briefing Spike in full on what to expect, there would still have to be an element of him just following Gallus’s lead on this. They were about to enter a world he figured Spike had very little past experience with.

A couple more minutes of hiking later and the winding path led them to a cluster of warehouse-like buildings on a ledge partly enclosed within a large rocky alcove. Unlike up at the city above them, there seemed to be considerably fewer creatures here, making it easy for them to slip in and wander through unnoticed. They probably didn’t even need to sneak along doing so, but they did so anyway out of an abundance of caution.

“What is this place?” Spike whispered as they moved discreetly through the rows of warehouses, looking at the boxes of cargo that were stacked both inside and around them.

“The airship docks,” Gallus replied and couldn’t help but smirk a little. “The authorities almost never come down here—too many crooked griffons have bribed them to keep looking the other way. That makes it easier to go unnoticed when you want to be here.”

“Oh,” Spike mumbled, perking up a little. “I assume there’s a way to sneak into the city through here then?”

“Kind of…basically we need to meet with this guy I know first.”

“Is…he a friend?”

Gallus hesitated. “…more of a former co-worker,” he admitted. “But like I said, he owes me enough of a favor that I’m positive he’s our best bet.”

Spike glanced around. “Will we be reaching him soon?”

“Not for a few more blocks still, but we’re getting there.”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no offense, but I’ll be glad when we do, because something about these docks is making me feel kinda leery…”

Gallus opted not to reply to that, understanding. Admittedly, he didn’t want to linger here too long either. He hadn’t been lying about how the Griffonstone authorities rarely came down here, but he was more worried about the other civilian griffons residing down here too because the downside to the scant authorities was the docks tending to be home to the area’s criminal underground as well.

But then again, that was part of why Gallus had brought them down here. He planned to turn that downside into their advantage. They just had to speak to the right griffon first.

Eventually, keeping their distance from any of the scant few other griffons wandering the dirt streets, their weaving around warehouses brought them to a secluded and clearly underused airship dock, built so it jutted out from the far edge of the ledge it all hugged. It didn’t seem like it had any warehouses associated with it until walking down a mild incline sloping towards it. There two small bunker-like warehouses became visible, built directly into the side of the hill with a platform running in front of them so to artificially extend the area of flat and level ground to work on.

There did not seem to be too much activity taking place at these docks currently, so few were around it. But they weren’t totally vacant, for a couple of griffons were still out doing various minor tasks. One of the closest to Gallus and Spike as they approached was an adult griffon old enough to start having both wrinkles and a greying pelt. This mixed with his scruffy-looking exterior, fraying trench coat and flat cap, and smoking some kind of cigarette or joint with the physique of a chronic smoker, did not give him the most flattering of appearances. However, as it happened, he was also precisely the griffon Gallus was looking for.

“You know, one of these days, you being so consistently in the same spot every day is going to bite you in the rump,” he sassed the griffon as they approached.

The griffon started when he spoke, but upon seeing who it was, he broke out into a friendly grin. “Well now, there’s a face I wasn’t expecting to see today!” he remarked as he turned to greet them. “How ya doing, Gallus?”

“Honestly, could be better at the moment, Gus,” Gallus admitted frankly as the two briefly shook paws.

The griffon, Gus, made a skeptical snort as he looked Gallus over. “Dunno, lad, ya seem to be doing pretty well for yourself,” he said with some mild teasing in his tone. “After all, I heard you’ve been staying in Equestria lately, and I can say ya certainly look like a griffon who’s been living the cushy life.”

Gallus looked himself over for a second and was forced to inwardly admit he’d developed a healthier and better-fed body than most lower class griffons typically got to. He had mixed thoughts about that, feeling a little guilty he could be now so blessed when others weren’t, but swiftly shook the matter from his mind so to focus on more pressing issues. “Yeah, well, still gotten into some trouble and I need your help,” he assured.

“Hmm,” Gus hummed to himself before inquiring innocently, “I assume that’s why you’re here with the lizard then?” He pointed a talon at Spike standing beside Gallus.

“Lizard?” Spike mumbled grumpily, speaking for the first time as he’d been letting Gallus do the talking.

Gallus nonetheless motioned for him to remain quiet. “Q-blu, Gus,” he answered instead before pressing on. “Besides, as I see it, you still owe me a favor.”

Gus raised an eyebrow as he took a puff on his cigarette. “I do now, do I?”

Gallus nodded. “Remember that mess with the floor wax, the peanut butter, and the jackalope?”

Gus frowned. “That was an accident and ya know it.”

“And I’ve been keeping it to myself as a courtesy to you,” Gallus reminded before putting on a smug look, “Because you wouldn’t want word of that just getting around…particularly not to the authors.”

Gus gave Gallus a long and hard look, but finally broke out chuckling. “All right, all right, I get your point,” he conceded and motioned for Gallus to continue. “What do ya need?”

Gallus smiled. “Cloths and headlines,” he listed. He was somewhat surprised at how quickly he’d slipped back into the street slang. “Maybe some bites too if you can spare some.”

Gus nodded, rubbing his chin. “A crabback like ya would probably also want some inks then,” he suggested thoughtfully.

“Probably, but if you need to charge extra for it, we’ll do without.”

“We’ll also have to come up with something extra for the lizard since he’ll stand out the most to the authors…I assume it’s the authors you’re avoiding?”

“Yes—you’ve noticed the extra patrols going around, right?”

“Wait, that’s been all because of you two? Ya big wanted or something?”

“More like double big wanted, Gus.”

Gus’s eyes widened. “Good Grover, boy, what did ya do? You’re normally pretty good about avoiding trouble!”

“Again, q-blu, Gus.” Gallus leaned closer. “But for both our sakes, if anyone asks, ghosts for answers.”

Gus gaped at him for a second. “You’re really not pulling my tail, are ya?” he asked, before solemnly nodding. “Yeah, okay then, we can do that. We’d best get ya all set up now.” He motioned for them to follow. “Keep the lizard close to ya, Gallus. The fewer who see him the better it’ll be for the both of ya.”

Gallus nodded and gently pulled Spike closer to him, wrapping his wing around him as they followed Gus into the closest of the underground warehouses. “What was all of that?” Spike whispered to him as they went.

“I’ll explain later,” Gallus promised, knowing it’d take too long to do right now, “but things are looking up a little.” He glanced around as they entered the mostly empty warehouse, containing just a handful of crates of varying sizes and even less griffons. Most of them were older and scruffy-looking like Gus, but one griffon with black and white plumage timidly speaking with another stood out to him for being a couple of years younger than himself. “A little robin?” he noted aloud to Gus.

Gus followed his gaze and nodded. “Came in earlier today looking for bites, so we’re setting him up,” he explained. “Actually kind of like how you first appeared on my doorstep, Gallus.”

Gallus shook his head, recalling the memory. “That was a lot of years ago now, Gus.”

Gus laughed. “Yeah, and look at ya now,” he said before taking another drag on his mostly finished cigarette. Chucking the spent butt aside, he proceeded to pull out another from a case in his pocket. “Ya want one?” he offered upon noticing Gallus watching.

Gallus immediately shook his head. “You know I gave up sweetsticks after what happened to Gunther,” he reminded.

Gus rolled his eyes as he lit the cigarette with a lighter. “Oh c’mon, the lung trouble that got him wasn’t because of sweetsticks. And look at me! I’ve been doing these things for most of my life and it hasn’t affected me any.” He took a puff from the lit cigarette and immediately starting hacking heavily.

“Sure it hasn’t,” Gallus replied sarcastically.

Gus eventually led them to the back of the warehouse and through a door into a run-down locker room. There he told them to wait a second and left again, closing the door and leaving them alone.

Spike used the moment of solitude to speak up again. “So what exactly are we doing?” he asked, visibly confused and intimidated by the seedy environment he’d been led into.

“Getting cloths and headlines,” Gallus replied. Then, realizing Spike wouldn’t understand, he proceeded to translate. “That’s slang for disguises and any news about the recent happenings in Griffonstone.”

“Oh,” Spike replied. His eyes glazed over for a second as he recalled the rest of Gallus and Gus’s conversation and used that new information to try and translate it into terms he understood. “Is that why he kept calling me a lizard? Some kind of griffon slang?”

Gallus nodded, taking a seat on a nearby bench and silently invited Spike to do the same. “For a dragon, yes—Gus was surprised to see you with me, since that’s not something that happens often around here.”

“I can imagine,” Spike said, sitting beside Gallus after a moment’s hesitation. “You wanna explain some of the rest you talked about too?”

Gallus replayed the conversation in his head. “Well, let’s see…authors was just short for the authorities, and I told him q-blu, short for ‘questions best left unanswered,’ because I figured he was better off knowing as few details about our situation as possible in case any of our pursuers came looking for him too. I also told him to give ghosts for answers, which means to deny we were ever here in case anyone does come asking for us, again for his protection just as much as ours.”

“So you trust this Gus guy then,” Spike surmised, working to piece things together.

“Well, we go way back at least,” Gallus said and made a small and weary smirk. “Gus is in the business of getting griffons that are in trouble back out of trouble, usually by putting them to work here at these docks he legitimately owns.”

“Were you like that one griffon you two were talking about on the way here, then?” Spike asked, pointing a claw back in the direction where the black and white griffon had been seen. “What did you call him? A little bird?”

“A little robin,” Gallus corrected and averted his gaze slightly. “It’s slang for an amateur thief.” The unsaid implications of this were allowed to hang heavily in the room for a second before Gallus continued, eager to move past that. “But that’s why that kid’s here, so he can get his bites through other better means.”

“Bites?”

“Means bits for food or other essentials. Poor kid looks like he needs it too.”

“…what do you mean?”

Gallus leaned closer, turning somber. “Spike, his plumage hides it well, but I can still tell—that kid’s pretty much just skin and bones under those feathers.” As he watched Spike mull that thought over, stunned, he continued. “Why do you think he was a little robin? He’s hungry, and that’d been the only way he could get those essentials before.” He took a deep breath before looking at the positives. “But hopefully working a job or two with Gus will earn him enough bits to get some food in his belly.”

Spike swallowed uncomfortably, but it also raised another, related, concern. “But what if Gus is just exploiting that desperation for his own gain?” he asked, worried.

“Oh he absolutely is, make no mistake,” Gallus confirmed without hesitation, though he opted not to talk about the sometimes shadier side of Gus’s work. “But it’s the best option these kinds of griffons have, the best way they can get out of the holes they find themselves in. They aren’t going to get it from other griffons because they don’t care, nor find it on their own through more ethical means because Griffonstone is too corrupt, and train tickets out of the Griffon Kingdom altogether are too costly when those bits could be spent for more immediate concerns like your next meal. To say nothing of the fact that no griffon has the guarantee that getting out of town would even improve their circumstances anyway. So quite honestly, Spike…if it wasn’t for the likes of Gus…there’s a lot of griffons who would’ve starved to death long before now.”

“How do you know that?” Spike asked, horrified.

“Because I’ve been there before, Spike,” Gallus assured heavily, bowing his head as he remembered darker times. “How do you think I met Gus in the first place? I was that kid out there once.”

A long and sobering silence fell between them for a moment.

“…did you also steal things out of desperation, then?” Spike finally asked upfront.

Gallus hung his head. It was a valid question, and looking back, he was sort of surprised Spike hadn’t asked it sooner. “Kinda, yeah,” he admitted with a quiet sigh, in an attempt to downplay it. “Never bits, though, just food from marketplace stalls, and only until I was about six or seven, when I finally realized working to earn the bits to buy food was better in the long run. So I started doing whatever odd jobs for whatever bits I could get. When that wasn’t quite enough, that was about when I met up with Gus for the first time.”

“Weren’t you ever caught stealing?”

“Only a couple of times by the stall owners, who’d at most paddle my butt good before sending me on my way. I was, after all, just a young squab who didn’t know better at the time, so…they treated me like one.”

“But it still didn’t stop you from trying again.”

Gallus could only shrug helplessly. “I did it to survive, Spike,” he reminded simply. “I’m not proud of it, but…sometimes that’s the best you get from life.”

Spike fell silent once more, pondering this information. Gallus wished he could do more to reassure the dragon, but was at a loss as to what so he went silent too. It only ended when Gus abruptly returned, a cardboard box carried on his back. “Not got a great selection here, but here’s some cloths you two can work with,” he explained as he set the box down before them.

Gallus quickly sifted through its contents. He frowned. “Gus, these are all griffoness clothes,” he observed flatly.

“Best I can give ya at the moment,” Gus affirmed with a helpless shrug before pointing a talon in the box. “But there should also be enough inks for ya to cover your crabback, maybe even for the both of ya, but there’re a few other things ya can try for your lizard friend too just in case.” He then straightened. “As for the headlines, there’s unfortunately not much. Apparently what the authors are up to is being kept extra shush-shush and in-house. Word is they’re on the lookout for two crooks that I’m guessing are supposed to be you two, but there’s nothing on the whys or hows. They don’t want any civvies getting involved though, and they only do that when they’re serious. But there’s not much more to say than that, so I don’t know how much it helps.”

“Its way more than we had when we first arrived,” Gallus assured, before offering his paw to the other griffon. “We’ll make it work, thanks.”

Gus shook the offered paw. “You’re welcome. Though the way I see it, now ya owe me.”

Gallus smirked. “Of course,” he deadpanned, amused.

Gus snickered to himself before turning serious. “Look…I don’t know what you’ve done to get so big trouble, but…I hope whatever it is, ya get back out of it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gallus replied, sharing in the serious tone. “Thanks again.”

Gus nodded, before shifting his composure and turning to leave. “I’ll let you two do what ya need to then,” he said. “Good luck, both of ya.”

He exited, leaving the two alone once more. Gallus turned his attention back to the box and started to pull out all of its contents. “Okay, let’s not beat about here,” he said as he went.

Spike quietly watched him for a moment. “Is…‘big trouble’ slang for something too?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Gallus replied. “It means you’re wanted dead or alive by someone. We’re what we’d call ‘double big wanted’ though…which means we’re just wanted…well…”

“…dead,” Spike concluded with a heavy nod. “I get it.”

“Yeah, but Gus has given us a fighting chance with these,” Gallus assured, organizing what he’d pulled from the box. “Disguises enough to help us blend in, including inks.” He held up a couple of small glass jars filled with colored substances. “These are colored powers to rub into our coats so to make them a different color.” He motioned to his own blue-colored pelt. “Those authors are going to be looking for a crabback-colored griffon like me, but they can’t find one if I’m not colored like one. If we play it smart, this should give us a fighting chance.”

“…yeah.” Spike didn’t seem very enthused by that.

Gallus paused and took a seat beside him. “Look, I know this has all been a lot to take in, and I’m sorry I had to introduce this…harsher world to you.” He gave Spike a sympathetic look. “I think you get why I don’t like talking about my past experiences with this sort of thing. But we can’t change that now. What we can do is think about how we can move on and make whatever comes next in our lives better than what it was before. Focus on that instead.” He grinned comfortingly. “We’re going this route because it’s our best way to a better tomorrow, and that’s what’s important here.”

Spike mulled it over for a second longer then weakly attempted to share the grin. He wasn’t super convincing to Gallus, but it was good he was trying. “Okay,” he said, getting up and moving towards the box. “I just…never realized how hard you had it out here in Griffonstone.”

Gallus didn’t reply right away, mulling how he should respond—if he should respond. “Is…that what’s really been bothering you about all of this?” he asked aloud finally, the deduction suddenly coming to him as if inspired. “Finding out what living on the streets had been like?”

Spike hesitated. “It’s just…stealing to survive, shady deals with shadier griffons, criminal undergrounds, drug use…”

“Wait, you mean the sweetsticks? I only did that for a month, and only because Gus and the others…” Gallus stopped himself, realizing how he sounded. “…Not helping. Look, I get what it all sounds like, but the important thing here is that I survived and got out of that life, first for more legitimate work once back on my own, then even more when I came to the school in Equestria not long after that.”

“Still…it must’ve been awful for you.”

Gallus snorted. It had been awful, and truthfully he’d hated almost every moment of it, especially now that he knew what it was like to live a better life. But he didn’t want to tell Spike that when clearly he was already feeling guilty about it. “It’s in the past either way,” he pointed out, trying to keep Spike from dwelling on it. “It’s not like there was anything either of us could’ve done to change it anyway.”

“It just…doesn’t seem fair, when…when I was the one who escaped having to face that same kind of life.”

Gallus couldn’t help but shoot Spike a look for that comment. “Don’t you go blaming yourself for any of this. You deserve every bit of that life you got.”

“And you didn’t, Gallus?”

“That’s my problem,” Gallus persisted, “A problem that isn’t even a problem anymore. It’s sorted itself out now, and even then, it doesn’t concern you.”

“…it does now.”

Suddenly, Gallus understood what Spike was getting at. He halted everything as his thoughts swung back to a matter meeting with Gus had pushed to the back of his mind…the one that had gotten them into these circumstances in the first place. He couldn’t help but think about the bloodline stone and photo album Spike still carried in his satchel and all both had revealed to them. He averted his gaze. “Look, I appreciate the concern,” he assured. “Seriously, I do. But it’s not necessary, so please don’t. I don’t want you blaming yourself for what were my problems, Spike.”

“But—”

“No. It wasn’t your fault, no more than it was my own. That’s just the way the scone crumbled. It stinks, but we can’t change it now. There was simply no way you could’ve known anyway. And I don’t blame you for that. So neither should you.”

He watched Spike shift uncomfortably. “It’s just…if what we’ve learned is actually true, then…what sort of family would I be, if I didn’t at least show some concern anyway?” he asked rhetorically.

Gallus breathed a sigh. “And what sort of family would I be…if I didn’t show the same back for you?” he challenged back.

Spike had no reply for that. “…what even brought us to this point, Gallus?” he posed instead. “What was so important that someone went to such lengths to do all of this to us?”

Gallus resolutely turned his attention back to the supplies Gus had provided. “Hopefully, that’s what we’re going to find out.”
> Night Guard
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gallus hadn’t been kidding when he’d said all of the possible disguises Gus brought them were for female griffons, and some were quite obvious. That made it somewhat embarrassing and awkward for the two, but Gallus eventually reasoned that maybe they could work it to their advantage.

“They are looking for a male griffon and not a female griffon after all, right?” he rationalized.

So Gallus eventually selected one of the less obtrusive outfits to wear, one with a long enough skirt so to still hide his obvious male traits, though he couldn’t resist adding a more masculine fez to top it off with. That done, he made the added effort of touching up his plumage, styling it in a slightly more female manner, before taking a reddish-colored powered “ink” and proceeding to rub it into the parts of him the outfit wasn’t going to cover, such as his tail, wings, hind paws, neck, and head. When mixed with his natural blue, this turned his coloring to a more red violet color. He then added in a bit of black to hide the yellow tips of his crest, altogether truly making himself look like a different creature.

Spike, however, proved to be a bit more complicated. Few of the disguises Gus provided really fit his smaller frame and those that did weren’t especially convincing. Plus, the inks didn’t stick to Spike’s scales very well, instead just smearing ineffectively. However, at the bottom of the box of supplies was a fake beak, and Gallus found, if they could also hide Spike’s spines and obscure the rest of his draconic body, he almost looked like a griffon fledgling with it. So with that in mind, Gallus pulled out a backpack-like pouch used by griffon mothers so to carry their swaddled young. Spike was a bit big for it, but once snuggly inside (his satchel squeezed in with him), all one could clearly see of him was his eyes and the false beak. Once Gallus pasted on a few loose downy feathers so to further cover up some of the surrounding scales as a precaution, they were ready to sneak into Griffonstone itself.

So they gathered their things and left the airship docks, resuming their original path leading into the city. Gallus had to do all the maneuvering himself since Spike was effectively left riding upon the griffon’s back, but Spike helped by watching for possible trouble. Approaching the border where the griffon authorities were patrolling was tense, but they still slipped through without raising the alarm so clearly the disguises were working. Nevertheless, they continued through the city and other griffons wandering the streets with caution, keeping themselves at a distance and doing everything they could to try and not draw any unwanted attention as they went.

Spike was quiet for most of it, resting on Gallus’s back in the carrier pouch. He must have been thinking ahead though, because eventually he quietly posed a question. “So I assume we’re heading to Gruff’s place?” The false beak over his snout muffled his voice somewhat, but Gallus could still hear him clearly enough.

“Why would we head anywhere else?” Gallus whispered back, the determination to confront the elderly griffon clear in his voice. “It’s past time we get answers for this mess we’re in.”

“I just hope we won’t end up in a deeper mess doing it.” Spike turned his head to eye a griffon authority passing by some feet away.

He didn’t seem to notice them, but Gallus could feel Spike tense nonetheless. “I’m more focused on getting there without being caught, but I can do that. I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been hearing.” Spike’s voice didn’t sound confident though.

“Look, the authors probably aren’t going to try too hard to find us,” Gallus assured. “Never have in the past, at least. They aren’t paid enough to creature-hunt or are just too crooked to do more than the minimum. So relax—as long as we keep lying low, this stays doable.”

That was apparently enough to satisfy Spike because he didn’t comment further, allowing Gallus to focus on slipping through the streets without further event. And they successfully did so, which was heartening. Maybe, after the rotten day or so they’d been having, things were finally beginning to turn around. In any case, they were soon getting close to their destination. Gallus had kept it to himself, not wanting to worry Spike unnecessarily in case it was unfounded, but he’d realized their pursuers might’ve concluded they’d come to Gruff’s place and put it under guard so to trap them. So Gallus approached the house from a very roundabout direction and circled around the area once or twice to make sure as much as he could that this wasn’t the case. Once he was satisfied, he stepped up to Gruff’s small house at last.

It appeared to be the same as it always had—old and rundown but still habitable enough if one was okay with the faults. Gallus did note it seemed like Gruff had recently gotten it repainted, as it’s whitewashed walls seemed fresh, unstained, and with no signs of peeling, but otherwise Gruff hadn’t been bothering to mend the building’s various worn spots as usual, at least as long as its roof stayed over his head. The house also seemed quiet, but this wasn’t unusual as Gruff wasn’t especially noisy when left to himself. Gallus supposed there wasn’t much point complaining loudly about things if there wasn’t anyone around to hear it.

Nevertheless, there didn’t seem to be anything stopping them from just coming up to its front door, so Gallus did just that. “Well, we’re here,” he whispered to Spike as he walked onto its front step.

“You have any idea what we’re going to say to him?” Spike inquired back. “Just how are we doing this anyway?”

“I’m still deciding whether or not I’m just going to pin him down until he talks,” Gallus grumbled, looking up at the door and feeling his blood boil as he realized now was finally the time to confront the elderly griffon.

Spike’s distaste for that suggestion was audible. “Maybe try for the more civil approach, please? We are trying to avoid attention, after all.”

“Right, right,” Gallus relented, knowing Spike was ultimately right, and raised his talons with the intent of politely knocking on the door.

His body apparently didn’t get the memo though because his polite knock instead came out as pounding on the door with his fist. Wincing briefly at his lack of tact, he waited impatiently for Gruff to answer. After about a minute of absolutely no sign of anyone coming to the door though, Gallus’s temper flared again and he pounded heavily on the door a second time, this time fully intentionally.

“Open up, Gruff!” he called through the door as he pounded. “I know you’re in there!”

“Gallus!” Spike hissed, eyes anxiously scanning around to make sure this wasn’t creating a scene. “Trying to avoid attention, remember?”

Gallus disregarded this though, developing tunnel vision for confronting Gruff, and only proceeded to pound on the door a third time, demanding it be answered. But there was still no Gruff. Suspecting something was amiss, Gallus spread his wings and vaulted up to Gruff’s roosting perch on the second floor, poking his head to look inside.

“Gruff!” Gallus bellowed into it, “Where are you hiding, you wrinkly coward?”

Still finding no sign of his target, Gallus shot back to the ground and angrily started circling around the house, peering into every window for any sign of Gruff but still finding nothing.

“Gallus!” Spike continued to protest helplessly from his back, “I get you’re clearly angry about this, but…”

“But nothing!” Gallus snapped, only growing more frustrated the longer this dragged on. “That geezer isn’t escaping this, not this time, and I’m not leaving without—GAH!”

His outburst was finally stopped when his shoulders were physically grabbed by another creature and, before he could finish processing that, found himself bodily flipped around and pinned to the side of the house, squashing Spike as the dragon ended up squeezed between his back and the wall. Gallus shot a glance back at the dragon but focused his full attention on the creature pinning him upon realizing with a start that he knew his attacker.

“You wanna explain yourself here, twerp?” the familiar brown griffoness growled as she leaned threateningly at Gallus.

“Gilda!” Gallus exclaimed back in surprise, and hurriedly held up his talons in surrender. “It’s okay, it’s me, Gallus!”

“Wait, seriously?” Gilda replied while jerking her head back in surprise, having clearly not recognized him under his disguise. She spent a moment looking him over, raising a skeptical brow. She then snorted as recognition finally seeped into her face. “Okay, well, never knew you swung that way, but whatever.”

“Huh?” Gallus said, momentarily confused until he looked down at the griffoness outfit he was wearing. “Oh, that! It’s not like that, this is just a disguise!”

“Oh really?”

“Gus provided it, said it was the best he could offer!”

Gilda snorted. “Well, that’s what you get for trusting that crooked griff,” she pointed out, loosening her grip on Gallus so to not press him and Spike so hard into the wall but also not letting him go either. “What the heck you doing out here, Gallus? You’re supposed to be miles away from here.”

“And trust me,” Gallus responded back sternly, “we’d really love to be exactly there right now.”

“…we?”

Gallus sighed and turned to show Spike nestled in the carrying pouch, who removed the false beak long enough to give Gilda a clear idea of his real identity before making a sheepish wave. “Uh…hi?”

Gilda regarded Spike for a long moment, visibly befuddled, before turning her attention back on Gallus. “Do I want to know?”

“It’s a long story, but let’s consider the details q-blu for now,” Gallus answered for the same reasons he’d not wanted to explain it to Gus.

Gilda wasn’t quite as willing to let it slide though. “What, have you two got the authors after you or something?” she asked before groaning and answered her own question, giving Gallus a weary look. “You do, don’t you? That’s why so many authors are out and about today!” She pinched the bridge of her beak with one paw. “You’re big wanted!”

Gallus grabbed her paw with his own. “Try double big wanted, Gilda.”

Now Gilda stared at him with a look of horror before narrowing her eyes darkly. “Who the heck is that ticked off at you?” she demanded, as if ready to take on the culprit herself.

Gallus was actually somewhat gladdened she cared enough to. “That’s what we want to ask Gruff,” he nonetheless answered coldly.

Gilda gaped at him. “You think Grampa Gruff wants you dead?” she hissed, not quite believing it.

“Maybe,” Spike responded before Gallus could, which might be for the better since Gallus found he had a definite “yes” sitting on the tip of his tongue. It made him wonder if his answer was because he had actual evidence of that or because that was just what he wanted it to be. In any case, he didn’t stop Spike from continuing: “We suspect he might at least know what’s going on.”

“So where is he?” Gallus demanded, before realizing something else. “And why are you here anyway? Don’t you have better places to be yourself?”

“Ugh, yes, and I wish that I was, trust me,” Gilda promised, pinching at the bridge of her beak again. “But Gruff’s got me babysitting his house while he’s off on business instead of letting me see to my own, for which I intend to charge him out the wazoo considering I’m losing a whole heck of a lot of bits by the hour the longer I’m kept away from my scones stand, but…”

“Wait, wait, Gruff left on business?” Gallus interrupted, perking up. “When?”

“You kinda just missed him, he literally left early this morning,” Gilda replied with an apologetic wince. “He got called out to the Lord’s Manor. I don’t know why—you know he never tells anybody these things.”

Gallus groaned and now he was the one pinching the bridge of his beak. “And I don’t suppose you have any idea of when he could be back?”

“Not a clue, but you know how this works just as well as I do—he won’t be coming back until the lords don’t need him to be out there anymore and not a moment sooner.”

“Wait, what is this Lord’s Manor?” Spike asked, not quite following. “I mean, I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never been totally clear on just what it is.”

“It’s this big fortified mansion all of the ruling lords of the Griffon Kingdom go to do business with each other,” Gallus explained, rubbing his paw over his face in frustration. “It’s really ritzy and basically everything you’d expect of a place where rich and egotistical griffons hang out.”

“…why would Gruff be called there?”

“Because he serves as the kingdom’s archivist and historian of all the various things they can’t be bothered to keep track of themselves, at least the ones that deal with the country on a whole or potentially affecting multiple lords and their respective territories. He usually gets called out there to pull out records for anything the lords might be squabbling about now.”

“Okay, so where is this mansion?” Spike then pressed. “Is it in Griffonstone?”

“No, it’s about four or five mountaintops thataway,” Gallus replied, jabbing a claw in its general direction.

“Not someplace you’re going to get to very quickly, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Gilda added. “It’ll a take a good couple of hours to get there by flight.” She glanced at the sun now well on its way back towards the horizon. “Too long if you’re trying to get there before sunset.”

“And we’re trying to lie low, so we wouldn’t want to fly anyway,” Gallus continued with another groan of frustration. “But hiking through those mountains on foot would take days.” He turned to Gilda again. “You’re sure you don’t have any idea when Gruff might get back?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Gallus,” Gilda replied with a shrug. “He could be back in a week or he could be back tonight. If you’re right about him somehow being involved in whatever the heck the droppings you’ve gotten yourself into are, I’d bet my bits on the former.”

“It…does seem awfully convenient that he gets called away just in time for all of this to happen,” Spike admitted.

Gallus had gotten the same thought himself, and it only infuriated him that Gruff may already be a step ahead of them. “I’m not about to let him get away from this that easily,” he growled.

“Yeah, but you’re not going to want to go all the way out to the Lord’s Manor anyway,” Gilda pointed out. “It’ll be swarming with all of the mercs of the visiting lords, and they’ll be far more willing to shoot your face off than the authors around here will be.”

“Mercs?” Spike questioned.

“Paid bodyguards that the lords hire to protect themselves,” Gallus explained. “The more powerful the lord, the more of them they have employed, so it depends on which lords are at the manor, but if Gruff’s been called out there, there’s probably more than one currently. So Gilda’s right about how there’d be way more than we could ever hope to sneak past.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Gilda suddenly spied a griffon authority rounding the street corner and she swiftly dragged them back around to the other side of Gruff’s house so to keep them out of sight. “Look, as entertaining as this has been to discuss, it’s not getting you anywhere and you’ve apparently got creatures out to kill you,” she reasoned, lowering her voice to a whisper. “So I say you forget Gruff for now, cut your losses, and get the heck out of town. What do you need to get back to Equestria? A train ticket?”

“They’d be watching the trains for us,” Spike replied with certainty. “They aren’t going to let us escape that easily, at least.”

“Then we’ll smuggle you over the border on foot if we have to. I know a griff that…”

“Gilda, I appreciate the offer,” Gallus interrupted seriously, “but not only will less creatures who know about us be better, they already have patrol ships scouting the wilderness for us, so that route would probably be no safer.”

Gilda gaped at them both again. “Seriously, who the heck wants you dead that badly?” she insisted. But before either Gallus or Spike could answer, the authority they were avoiding was heard poking around near the entrance of Gruff’s house, drawing her attention. She started waving them on. “Aw, look, just get out of here. I’ll keep that oaf distracted and off your trail for as long as I can.”

“Thanks,” Gallus said, taking the hint and turning to go. “And Gilda, if they ask, ghosts for answers.”

“Obviously,” Gilda replied with the roll of her eyes. She motioned for them to get going. “Now go! And don’t die!”

They then last saw her vanishing back around the house where she could be heard confronting the authority much like how she initially had for them. Their cover made, Gallus used it to quickly put a couple of blocks between them before choosing to slow and discreetly resume talking. “Well, so much for that plan,” he grumbled quietly.

“To be honest it was a longshot anyway, finding Gruff,” Spike reasoned, but turning sympathetic, he added, “I promise we’ll find a way to confront him about all of this eventually, but for now Gilda’s right—we need to focus on getting to safety.”

“I guess that means we’re back to our original plan of finding a post office so to get word out to Equestria,” Gallus concluded.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea anymore though,” Spike reasoned. He went quiet for a moment while they slipped past two griffon authorities conversing on a nearby street corner. “There’re too many creatures out looking for us on these streets and they probably won’t want us getting word out to Equestria anyway, so they might be safeguarding anything that’d easily let us do it.”

“Well, we definitely can’t stay out here on the streets forever,” Gallus pointed out. “So we should at least find someplace to hide until we’ve got a new plan.”

“Luckily, I think I know just the place,” Spike answered. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Equestrian embassy for Griffonstone is, would you?”





As it happened, Gallus only had a vague idea of where it was at, since the embassy was still a relatively new addition to the city, built only a couple years ago as relations between the griffons and Equestria gradually improved. Fortunately, though Spike had never before visited it himself, he’d dealt with enough paperwork involving it since becoming royal advisor that he knew where to find it on the far side of the city, somewhat isolated away from the other buildings by design. Spike also explained that Equestria was “currently in-between ambassadors” assigned to the embassy, leaving it vacant and thus both safe and free for them to slip inside where Spike was confident they’d find means to securely contact Equestria and inform them of their situation.

But when they arrived at the embassy grounds, in time for the sinking sun to start casting long golden shadows, they were surprised to see the lights on inside the building—a sprawling cottage-like structure with an attached tower—and indications that someone was currently inside.

Gallus frowned at the sight as they looked on from the combination wrought iron fence and hedge surrounding the outer perimeter of the embassy grounds. “I thought you said this place would be empty,” he muttered to Spike.

“It should be,” Spike responded, twisting around in the carrying pouch so he could see too. He sounded very confused by this development. “I don’t know why anyone would be in there.”

This led Gallus to a worrying thought. “Could have somebody already thought we’d go here and are trying to cut us off?” he proposed.

Spike seemed hesitant about it though. “It’s not like some creature from off the street could just get inside without breaking in, as that should’ve set off the security alarms…it could be that a new ambassador was recently assigned and I hadn’t heard of it yet though.” He perked up slightly. “Or Twilight’s already dispatched ponies out here to try and find us.”

“How would we ever know, though?” Gallus questioned.

“The only way I can think of is to get closer, see if we can see for ourselves who’s inside.” Spike nudged Gallus’s back through the pouch. “Do you think you can sneak us there without anyone noticing?”

Gallus eyed the fence separating them from the grounds for a second. “I think I can climb over this if there’s not an alarm wired into it,” he reasoned. “Is there?”

“I…don’t think there is.”

“It’s a yes or no, Spike, or I’m not risking it.”

“…no, then.”

Gallus sighed but decided to trust Spike’s word. “Okay, but it’ll be on you if you’re wrong,” he assured before jumping to grab the fence’s upper support bar and hauling himself up its side. It was a bit harder with Spike on his back, weighing him down, but he managed to clamber over the fence simply enough.

Once on the other side and seeing no indications that they had alerted anything, Gallus swiftly scampered across the grounds into the thick decorative landscaping encircling the embassy building where there was better cover. Pressing himself close to the trunk of a tree, he then maneuvered around to try and see inside through the closest of the windows. It had its blinds fully closed, but they could make out at least two indistinct outlines of creatures inside as they happened to pass by.

“Well, there’s definitely someone in there, I just can’t tell who,” Gallus commented as he cautiously kept them within easy viewing of the window.

“Looked like they might be talking, so maybe they were meeting each other here?” Spike hazarded to guess. He nudged Gallus once they moved out of their view in the window. “Can you follow them, see where they’re going? They might be going for the embassy’s front hall, and if so, we might make out more there.”

Gallus nodded and, keeping low, slinked closer to the front half of the building. The front hall unfortunately had all of its blinds drawn as well, so they couldn’t make out any new details except that one of the two creatures was now somewhere out of their view. But Gallus’s attention was swiftly drawn away from that when he abruptly spotted what was parked in front of the embassy through a gap in the decorative foliage, leading to him ducking down again as a precaution. It was a full size coach with a trio of uniformed griffon guards standing ceremoniously around it, fortunately unaware that they were being watched.

“Well, guess that confirms someone is here visiting, for whatever reason,” Spike mumbled to himself. “Though I’m still not sure as to who or why.”

Gallus eyed how stylish and decorative the coach was, clearly an indicator of eminence. “It must be someone of high stature,” he guessed, “probably at the governmental level.”

“Makes sense, given this is an embassy,” Spike said, but he still seemed confused. “But…why would they be here if there’s no ambassador that I know of to meet?”

“I’m starting to think I was right to suspect it’s because of us,” Gallus concluded, deciding to chance peeking at the window again. However, he could still only make out one creature, the other remaining absent. “Wonder where that other creature went…” he muttered before starting to turn to find another window to peek through.

He instead found himself suddenly face to face with a crossbow pointing at his head. “Don’t move,” the pegasus mare holding it advised firmly.

“Droppings!” Gallus reflexively cursed, startled by her sudden appearance, but he swiftly obeyed the instruction, planting himself to the spot and not moving except to put his forepaws into the air.

The mare then took a step closer, her aim lowering only slightly so to point the arrow on her crossbow—it’s head aglow with some form of cyan magic it’d been pre-casted with—at Gallus’s chest, probably so to allow her a better look at his face while still keeping him at arrowpoint. Gallus took the chance to better take in her appearance too, wondering how she’d so effectively gotten the drop on him like this. But other than the enchanted arrows in her quiver, the grey pony seemed to be casually dressed in a brown jacket with a thin black shirt just visible behind it. The only other article of clothing she wore was an eyepatch over her right eye, the thin strap of which vanishing from view within her blond mane.

She also seemed naggingly familiar. “Wait, have I met you before?” Gallus asked her without thinking.

The mare raised a brow back at him. “Have I met you before?” she challenged back.

Gallus was attempting to figure out how to respond when Spike nudged him in the back. “Let me try!” he urged. So since the mare was tilting her head to try and see the source of Spike’s voice anyway, Gallus swiftly about faced to present Spike in the carrying pouch to her, the dragon having already removed his false beak and holding out his royal advisor medallion in an attempt to make use of his authority. “By the order of the—” he abruptly stopped upon recognizing the mare though. “—Ditzy Doo?”

“Spike?” the mare, Ditzy, immediately responded back, also swiftly recognizing the dragon. When Gallus twisted his head around so to glance back at her in befuddlement, she caught his eye and suddenly looked amused. “Wait, is that you under all that, Gallus?”

“…yes?” Gallus responded hesitantly, still not sure if he actually knew this mare. He repositioned himself so both he and Spike could face Ditzy equally. “Seriously, have we met before?”

Ditzy lowered her crossbow. “Well, maybe this’ll clue you in,” she said knowingly, raising a hoof to flip up her eyepatch. Surprisingly, doing so revealed a perfectly healthy eye, save for the fact its golden yellow pupil did not quite line up with her other eye.

Gallus’s eyebrows went up in recognition, knowing of only one pony with that iconic wall-eyed look. “Waaaaait, aren’t you the mailmare?” He vividly recalled her picking up and delivering mail before back at the school.

Ditzy smirked at that. “Well,” she conceded with a cryptic shrug, shouldering her weapon, “part-time at least.” She shook her head though and turned serious again. “We’ve got bigger issues to focus on, but first it’s a relief to see you’re both all right. We’d only been able to make rough guesses as to what happened after hearing Gene Type had turned on you two.”

Spike immediately perked up at that. “You heard our distress call!” he realized with glee.

“We heard your distress call,” Ditzy reaffirmed with a wink. “And the moment we did, Twilight ordered to find and, hopefully, rescue you.” She smirked again, “Didn’t think it’d be you two finding me instead.”

“Honestly, we had no idea you’d be here,” Spike replied, but he likewise smirked. “Should’ve known Twilight would send you, though.”

Gallus was starting to feel very out of the loop by this point. “I still don’t understand though,” he interjected, squinting his eyes at Ditzy like this would unlock her secrets. “I mean, of all ponies, why you specifically?”

“Well, Twilight explicitly requested the Night Guard’s services for this,” Ditzy explained, “and since you were under the escort of a Night Guard when this all happened, we technically already had jurisdiction, so…”

“Yes, but what’s the Night Guard got to do with you?” Gallus asked, folding his forelegs in annoyance.

Ditzy just gave him a knowing smirk and waited for him to figure it out himself.

It didn’t take him long, his eyes going wide. “You gotta be kidding me,” he breathed in shock. “You’re a flipping Night Guard? I thought you were just the mailmare!”

“I said that’s only part-time,” Ditzy explained with an amused shrug. “But hey, you don’t have to take my word for it. Spike can back me up on this, can’t you, Spike?” Spike winced at that, looking put on the spot as Gallus then whirled onto him, his expression demanding an explanation. But Ditzy continued before that could happen. “Look, we can all explain each other later.” She motioned to the shadowy figure still visible through the blinds of the nearby window. “I left his lordship inside waiting for me once I noticed creatures sneaking around out here, so let’s get inside and fill him in on this.”

But Gallus didn’t follow her when she turned to lead them into the cottage, looking again at the shadowy figure through the blinds and noticing for the first time the outline of a beak. “His lordship?” he repeated, concern growing, “A griffon lord?”

Ditzy turned back to face him, looking confused. “Well yeah, we’ve been coordinating with the griffon authorities to try and—”

“But the griffon authorities are in on it!” Gallus hissed at her. “They want us dead too!”

To her credit, Ditzy turned deadly serious the moment he said that. “…what.”

“It’s true, Ditzy,” Spike confirmed a bit more apologetically but no less serious himself. “One of their patrol ships tried to blow us up last night.”

“And it was clear they had orders to do so, from someone high up, and I don’t doubt they’re still hunting for us now,” Gallus stressed emphatically. “Why do you think we’re sneaking around in disguise in the first place?”

Ditzy took a second to process this new information but then zipped to the hedge dividing their secluded spot from the coach and its guards parked in front, peeking out at them. Fortunately, the guards still seemed to have no idea they were there, but nonetheless, with a level of skill that seemed alien on the mare—at least to Gallus—she went back to Gallus and Spike and pushed them low to the ground, pressing a hoof to her lips.

“You two stay here until I get back and keep quiet,” she instructed firmly as she flipped her eyepatch back into place. “I’ll go and send his lordship on his way.”

She then vanished, slinking away through the foliage with such skillful stealth that Gallus was amazed this was really the same accident-prone mailmare he knew in Ponyville. “So you want to explain to me this whole Night Guard thing to me now?” he whispered to Spike as they settled in and awaited her return. “Particularly how you knew about it but I didn’t?”

Spike sighed in a way that, even though Gallus couldn’t currently see it, he could tell the dragon was rolling his eyes in exasperation. “She works undercover, okay?” he began explaining to the griffon. “There’s top secret nondisclosure agreements and everything for this, so it’s not like you can just go telling anyone about it. And she’s apparently been doing it for years. I didn’t even know about it until after Twilight’s coronation.”

“So the whole mailmare thing…?”

“…is just a cover, and always has been. It works out pretty well for her that way.”

“Cover for what, though?”

“These days, it’s usually to safeguard creatures that are connected with the Elements of Harmony or anything related to it. Hence why she’s been stationed in Ponyville for so long—that’s where those kinds of creatures keep ending up.”

This only made the reveal feel all the more jarring for Gallus though. It also made him a little suspicious. “And we’re sure we can trust her?”

“Absolutely,” Spike promised back, clearly having no doubts himself. “Like I said, I should’ve known Twilight would assign her to this case—Not only is Ditzy the one she’d trust the most for this, Ditzy’s also one of the Night Guard’s best.”

“Right,” Gallus replied, not sure if he was totally convinced, but still swayed enough to trust Spike’s word for now.

Spike must’ve sensed his lingering distrust though. “Gallus, not to put too fine a point on it…but her undercover work has already helped to keep us all safe, including both me and you. If she really meant us ill-intent, then why do any of that at all?”

It was a valid point, but Gallus was reluctant to acknowledge it. “Yeah, but if she’s really been some undercover agent this whole time, then why would that affect me directly? What am I involved in that’s so important it requires something like her sitting on the sidelines?”

“Do I really need to remind you of that treehouse out in Everfree you and your friends like hanging around?”

Gallus’s voice caught in his throat as he realized the connection Spike was suggesting. “You’re saying that safeguarding includes me and my friends?”

“It does.”

“But…we’re not Elements of Harmony!” Gallus’s eyes bulged. “…are we?”

“Ditzy’s of the opinion that even if you aren’t technically, you’re all still associated enough to deserve the precaution, or so I’ve heard from her reports since Twilight took the throne.” Gallus could just visualize the knowing look Spike was surely giving the back of his head by now. “Besides, aren’t you six the ones who’ve actually communicated with the Tree the Elements came from?”

Gallus thought about his own past encounters with the Tree of Harmony. To be fair, he’d always understood that this connection was significant, but he’d never really stopped to think it meant the government gave him and his friends special protection like this. “But if that’s the case,” Gallus said as he applied this new information to recent events, “then where was she when Gene Type made his move?”

“Because you already knew her as the innocent mailmare and would’ve wondered why she’d even be present for that, just like you did a few minutes ago,” Spike reminded. “To explain it away convincingly probably meant revealing her secret to you and that’d blow her cover, something that allows her to do her job so effectively without interference. That’s probably the real reason why Dream Chaser was selected to accompany us to begin with, now that I think about it.” Spike’s tone then turned sympathetic. “If it helps, Ditzy’s probably kicking herself for not being there to ensure our safety. Yet another reason to assign her to look for us—she probably insisted on it.” A moment of silence fell while Gallus processed this, so Spike used the chance to keep talking. “Look, I get how finding out like this probably feels. My own mind was blown away when I was told Ditzy’s a Night Guard, and I had the luxury of taking the time to process it that you don’t, given circumstances. And I get how seeing her real self probably seems like it should be suspect right now, but if there’s anything about this you can trust me completely on, Gallus, it’s this: Ditzy’s probably one of the safest ponies we could be around right now.”

Gallus blinked several times to himself as he continued processing all this, still trying to comprehend the idea that this klutzy pony he’d long known was around but never really thought twice about was instead a high-profile undercover Night Guard the whole time he’d known her. It put the chance encounters with her before now in a whole new light that definitely took some brain power to even comprehend. But while he was doing that, the embassy’s front door was heard opening and closing, drawing their attention back to the gap in the hedge so to watch the visiting lord, a stout and dark brown colored griffon, calmly depart.

Gallus recognized him immediately. “Huh,” he mumbled to himself in mild surprise, watching the griffon enter his coach, “That’s Lord Gestal.”

“Lord Gestal?” Spike repeated, intrigued, “The head of the ruling council of lords for the Griffon Kingdom?”

“That’s the one,” Gallus confirmed. “I suppose it makes sense though. If Equestria was really looking to recruit the help of the griffons, might as well go right to the top—since we currently don’t have a ruling king, that technically makes Gestal the next most powerful griffon, politically speaking.”

“…is that potentially a bad thing for us?”

“I don’t know.” Gallus thought about it while watching the escorting guards, their boss now securely seated in the coach, ready to drive off. “He still falls prey to the same sort of trappings like all the other lords do, but he is still one of the better ones who’ll actually attempt to think of the lower class citizens.” He snickered to himself while the coach drove off. “You know, I nearly got ran over by his coach once, few years back.”

He felt Spike twist around in the carrying pouch so to look at him better. “Really?”

“Yeah, I happened to be rounding a street corner the same time his coach was and had to quickly dive out of the way to avoid getting hit.” He snorted, grinning a little. “Guy actually stopped so he could get out and personally make sure I was all right. All of the other lords would’ve just kept going, maybe even flipped me off for getting in their way, so…I appreciated he did that, even if it was just a brief thing.” He let out a small sigh. “I’m sure he doesn’t remember that at all by now though.”

“Given circumstances…I suppose that might be preferred,” Spike reasoned solemnly.

Once the coach left the embassy grounds, a moment of silence fell upon the area. Gallus was just starting to wonder how much longer they were going to have to wait when he was startled by Ditzy suddenly reappearing at his side.

“So I have questions,” she began by getting right to the point, ignoring Gallus’s surprised jump, “but first of all is this: what, in the name of sanity…” she pointed towards Gallus’s crest, “…have you got on your head?”

Overlooking the question of how Ditzy was so good at sneaking up on him like this for now, Gallus glanced up and suddenly remembered the headwear he wore for his disguise. “Oh, it’s a fez,” he explained before returning his gaze onto Ditzy, “I’m wearing a fez. Why?”

Ditzy responded by giving him a flat look for a beat.

Then the next thing Gallus knew, the fez was skewered to a nearby tree by an arrow. “Okay!” he remarked sarcastically, having instinctively ducked when Ditzy fired her crossbow. “Not a fan of fezzes, I see.”

“The fez is a male griffon’s hat,” Ditzy clarified curtly as she put away her crossbow. “The rest of the outfit you’re wearing is griffoness attire, so wearing the fez with it just makes you stand out more. Consistency is key when developing a disguise, after all. You’re lucky nobody seemed to have thought too hard about it on your way here.” She motioned for them to follow her, leading them not to the front of the cottage but rather the back. “A hood to cover your head probably would’ve been more preferable anyway, as you wouldn’t have to artificially color as much of your face that way.” She glanced back at Gallus. “What is that, anyway? Some kind of face paint?”

“A type of powdered dye, actually,” Gallus explained as he distractedly followed her. “It’ll scrub out though.” He rubbed at his temples for a moment, still amazed by this secret side of the mare so plainly on display now. “So to be clear, you’re really not pulling my tail about this?” he asked Ditzy one last time, just to be absolutely sure. “You’re seriously some secret grunt for the Night Guard?”

“Lieutenant commander, actually,” Ditzy corrected smugly before turning a bit more serious. “Look, I know it’s a bit much to take in, but we’ve got bigger concerns at the moment.”

“So what did you tell Lord Gestal to make him go away?” Spike interrupted so to change the subject. Now that Ditzy had returned, he’d slipped himself partway out of the carrying pouch so he could see better what was going on.

“Recognized him, huh? Well, I hadn’t told him why I’d popped out in the first place, so I when I returned I just played it up as nothing and quickly wrapped up our meeting, which he was very cooperative with.” Ditzy gave the pair a serious glance. “You’re sure he could be involved in the attempt on your lives?”

“Maybe not him specifically,” Gallus admitted, “but at least someone around his level of authority probably is.”

“And until we know for sure who, better to play it safe,” Ditzy concluded with a satisfied nod. They arrived at a small servant door in the back corner of the cottage which the pegasus opened and motioned them through first. “What about this patrol ship you said tried to attack you? The griffons have several currently in service, so you have any idea which one?”

“Uh…” Spike hesitated, unsure.

“Reliant,” Gallus however swiftly replied, recalling overhearing the name from their pursuers last night. “The ship’s name was Reliant.”

“The Reliant?” Ditzy repeated as she immediately halted in the doorway, brows going up. Then they swiftly narrowed into a scowl. “…oh, those absolute mongrels!”

“Well, they certainly weren’t friendly, no,” Spike remarked, taken aback by Ditzy’s sudden outburst.

“You don’t understand,” Ditzy angrily elaborated as she more slammed the servant door behind her than closed it. “The Reliant was returning to port the same time I arrived here in Griffonstone. I interrogated the command crew as they disembarked, to see if they had found anything while on patrol. I even spoke with the griffon in charge of the mission, Commodore Garrett himself!” Noticing the significance of the name was lost on the two, she quickly clarified. “He’s basically the de facto head of security in the Griffonstone area. And he said, to my face, that they had found nothing, had seen nothing, and that absolutely nothing of note had transpired during their entire flight! He lied to me!” She pressed her hooves to her eyes in frustration. “I knew I should’ve trusted my gut and gotten the accounts of the general crew too because there was no way they could’ve gotten all of them to stay silent, but I didn’t have enough reason to at the time!”

Spike winced sympathetically as he finally hopped down from Gallus’s back, hurriedly stretching his legs as he did so—no doubt they had gotten cramped after so long in the carrying pouch. “Well,” he said, trying to find a positive, “at least you know now.”

Ditzy sighed, but nodded. “You’re right,” she agreed and motioned for them to follow her again. “So tell you what, let’s go spread the word.”

She led them deeper into the otherwise empty embassy. Though Ditzy had clearly turned on a number of the lights all throughout, she’d otherwise left most of it untouched and as it had been left when it last vacated, clearly not having much need for it. However, when she brought them into the spacious dining room, it was clear she was using the room as a makeshift command center, with the table covered with documents of information and boxes of equipment she must’ve brought with her from Equestria.

Gallus surveyed it all, impressed. “Well, you’ve been busy,” he noted aloud.

“To be fair I overpacked as a precaution, seeing we’ve had to glean information about what’s been happening on the fly,” Ditzy explained as she proceeded to pull out a specific box from the stack. “Now here’s the plan—we’re going to report in that you’re here, arrange for transport back to Equestria, and get you two to safety. Any questions?”

Gallus raised his paw. “So why the eyepatch anyway? You clearly don’t need it.”

“It’s magicked. Long story short, it helps improve my aim.” Ditzy gave Gallus an annoyed look. “Now any relevant questions?”

“What had you figured out before we got here?” Spike asked as he hopped onto a chair so to better see what Ditzy was doing. Gallus, meanwhile, took the chance to start stripping out of his disguise at last. Spike suddenly remembered the feathers pasted to his face and started picking them off too.

“Admittedly, not a lot,” Ditzy replied, opening the box. “We didn’t even know anything had gone wrong until a trade ship near the Griffish Isles heard your distress call and relayed it on to us in Equestria. I was sent with a squad of other ponies to investigate, but by the time we arrived, that major storm had blown over the area and seriously hampered efforts. We were able to determine from a couple eyewitness accounts that what was almost certainly Gene Type’s airship had flown into the storm, where we couldn’t easily track you. So we actually lost your trail until that evening when we heard account of what was probably your airship being spied heading towards the Griffon Kingdom. I arrived here this morning with orders to coordinate with the griffons on starting a search. Like I said, until you showed up here, we didn’t have any good ideas on what’d happened to you. The possibility had been raised about needing to fear the worst, even.”

Gallus and Spike exchanged uncomfortable glances at that.

“But that’s why we’re doing this next,” Ditzy continued as she pulled out a black and polished stone carved in the shape of a beetle. She made a warm grin as she set it on the table. “I know someone who’ll love hearing otherwise.”

Once the stone beetle was in position, she tapped it once on its elytra with her hoof. It proceeded to make a cricket-like chirping sound for a second before the elytra suddenly sprang open and released a green glow of magic which in turn formed a small swirl of energy above it. An image swiftly materialized within of Princess Twilight Sparkle, appearing to be standing in someone’s office at the palace in Canterlot. Her eyes immediately locked upon Ditzy once the image had formed.

“Ditzy!” she declared with anxious eagerness. “I assume you’ve got something to report?”

“Actually, I’d almost want to just say mission accomplished,” Ditzy quipped back as she motioned Spike and Gallus closer to her.

Twilight noticed them next and though her brow furrowed for a brief second at the inks still in Gallus’s coat, she visibly brightened. “Gallus, Spike! You’re both okay!”

“Hey, Twilight,” Spike called back with a big grin on his face, clearly relieved to see the princess of friendship himself. “Thank goodness Thorax convinced his brother to let us have some of these communication beetles, huh?”

“You would not believe the past couple days we’ve had, by the way,” Gallus added, also unable to keep himself from grinning in relief. He had to admit, it was good to see the princess’s familiar face again after everything that’d happened.

“They actually came and found me here at the embassy, if you believe it,” Ditzy added. Was that a hint of pride Gallus heard in her voice? “But we’re not out of the woods yet—they’ve both confirmed that Gene Type wasn’t acting alone and given me reason to believe that at least one high-ranking griffon is in on this conspiracy too, with enough authority to have a patrol ship try and attack them.”

Twilight’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?”

“Don’t worry, we escaped,” Spike assured her.

“…though Gene Type’s airship certainly didn’t…” Gallus mumbled to himself.

“In the interest of ensuring their continued safety though,” Ditzy continued, “I request we be sent Equestrian transport back to the palace as soon as possible.”

Twilight winced at this news, but immediately nodded in agreement. “I’ll have a Night Guard craft come pick you up. Should it meet you there at the embassy?”

“Best have them meet us at wherever I have my transponder transmitting from, just in case,” Ditzy advised, pulling out just such a device from a nearby box and switching it on.

Twilight nodded. “Understood, we’ll get on that.” She turned to look at something outside their view. “You heard all that Kibitz and Raven?”

“Indeed, your highness, we shall make the necessary arrangements immediately,” a stallion’s voice was heard replying back.

Twilight faced them again. “Myself, Kibitz, and Raven have been busy going through Gene Type’s office here at the palace, searching for any clues,” she explained quickly.

“Find anything?” Ditzy inquired, hopeful.

“Not much, but we did find a letter that likewise suggests other creatures are involved in this, giving what seems to be vaguely phrased instructions on how Gene Type should prepare for their plans. But it’s cryptic, uniformly typewritten, and we haven’t been able to determine where it was sent from, let alone who by.” Twilight turned somber next. “But even more telling than that was word from the squad sent to search Gene Type’s apartment that they’d found the local fire brigade had already beaten them there.”

“The fire brigade?” Spike repeated, alarmed.

Twilight nodded. “They’d gotten the call to come when neighbors reported the apartment was ablaze.”

“What?” Ditzy exclaimed, shocked. “How?”

“The fire is still being put out, so there hasn’t been time to determine a cause properly…but it seems that arson is likely.” Twilight sighed. “Either way, I can safely say that the damage to the apartment is extensive.”

Ditzy slammed her hoof into the table, frustrated. “There goes any evidence that was in there,” she muttered.

“Sounds like someone’s trying to cover Gene Type’s tracks then,” Gallus reasoned coldly.

“Which is what we’ve been concluding over here,” Twilight agreed with another nod. “Whatever the scheme was, they must have found out it didn’t go as planned for Gene Type and are now doing damage control.” Her attention focused on Spike and Gallus again. “What did happen to Gene Type, anyway? You two clearly managed to escape him.”

Ditzy glanced their way as well, realizing she hadn’t asked herself. But Spike and Gallus exchanged uncomfortable looks at the distasteful memory. “He…didn’t survive,” Spike finally admitted very apologetically. It was still clear he partly blamed himself for it.

“He blew up the ship’s radio to try and keep us from using it,” Gallus elaborated, wanting to make sure the record was straight. “In the fight for control that followed, he…stumbled and fell upon the broken circuits that were left over, electrocuting himself.”

“Darn,” Ditzy murmured, then upon getting looks from the others, added, “Of course I’m glad you two defended yourselves, but…that pony was still our best lead for getting to the bottom of this whole mess.”

“Not unless you two managed to figure out something that could explain all this,” Twilight added.

Spike and Gallus again exchanged knowing glances at this, Spike reaching around to grab at the backpack still carrying evidence of just that. “Actually, we have,” Gallus confirmed before wincing, not having the foggiest idea of where to start explaining. “But it’s…kind of a long and complicated story.”

“Then tell Ditzy and pass it on to me once you’re safely back here,” Twilight instructed with the wave of her hoof. “As much as I want to hear the whole tale now, the drawback of these communication stones is that they can only stay active for a set number of minutes then have to recharge for some time before being used again.” She glanced at something outside of their view again, probably a clock. “In fact, we’ve probably just about used up what time we have for this session.” She looked back at them. “So is there anything else we need to discuss before I lose your signal?”

A split moment passed as they quickly considered it. Then Spike asked the question: “What happened to Second Lieutenant Dream Chaser?”

Both Ditzy and Twilight looked at him simultaneously. “You don’t already know?” Twilight asked in surprise.

But one look at the expressions of sorrow both mares had was all it took for Gallus to put two with two, feeling a chill run down his spine. “He’s dead…isn’t he?”

There was a split second of hesitation before Ditzy solemnly nodded her head. “I’m afraid he is…or at least he was by the time we found him.”

“The autopsy showed he had been injected with a lethal chemical called somulose,” Twilight explained soberly. “Gene Type must’ve caught him unaware because there was very little sign of a struggle.”

“It was like he had dropped dead where he stood,” Ditzy added with a sad sigh.

Gallus noticed Spike, horrified by this news, had curled up on himself and trying to hold back tears. Sympathizing, Gallus caringly wrapped a wing around the little dragon in an attempt to comfort him. “That chemical, is it used for euthanization?” he then asked, needing to know despite this terrible news.

Twilight nodded. “It is.”

Gallus sighed. “Gene Type tried to inject us with the same stuff right before we fought him off,” he explained.

“Clearly, we were the luckier ones,” Spike mumbled bitterly to himself.

Twilight sighed, also sympathetic. “I know this news isn’t good, but—” however she was cut off by her image suddenly wavering and starting to break up, forcing a subject change. “—we’re starting to lose your signal, so we’ll have to continue this later. We’ll send that transport to you straight away, and Ditzy, you make sure they stay safe until then!”

Ditzy saluted confidently. “You know I will!” she promised.

Twilight nodded, having just enough time to promise to talk again soon, hopefully in person this time, before the image collapsed entirely and the stone beetle went inert again. Once it had, Ditzy scooped it up in her hoof and returned it to its box, presumably where it could recharge.

Gallus slumped into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh. “Well, that was a mixed bag,” he mumbled aloud.

“Mm, but hopefully this still means we’re past the worst of it,” Ditzy reasoned in an attempt to find the upsides, taking a seat at the table herself. She studied the two for a moment. “Are you two going to be okay?”

Despite being the one who was the most emotional at the moment, Spike worked to try and regain his composure. “…we’ll live,” he managed to respond genuinely before putting on a brave grin. “So what do we do now?”

“Well, it’s probably going to be a few hours before our ride can get here, so we have some time to kill,” Ditzy reasoned. “With that in mind, if you two feel up for it, I’d like to hear the whole story of what happened from the beginning. You indicated you learned something about the motive for it?”

Gallus and Spike exchanged glances again before nodding to each other in silent agreement to relate the tale. “We do,” Gallus told her as Spike proceeded to pull out the bloodline stone and photo album from his bag, “though I imagine you’re going to have as hard a time believing it as we have.”
> Proximity Alarm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They spent some time filling Ditzy in on everything they had experienced. They started from when they left Equestria yesterday on to when they met up with her here at the Equestrian embassy, leaving out only the details deemed too minor and trivial to mention. Naturally, this included showing her how the bloodline stone responded to both of their touches and of course the photos found in the photo album. In all, it took long enough that by the time they finished, the sun had begun to sink into the horizon outside.

Throughout it all, Ditzy listened carefully and patiently to their lengthy narrative, only interjecting when she needed points clarified or had a question to ask. Gallus noticed she tried to keep a neutral expression throughout it all, but even she couldn’t quite keep her amazement from showing when they reached the most shocking parts. By the end of it all, she was looking rather unsure how she should react, much like how they themselves had been. Nevertheless, it was clear she was also putting all the pieces into the bigger picture with a calculative precision, as per her job.

“…and you think Gruff is somehow connected with all of this?” she asked as the recap wrapped up, flipping through the photo album.

“He’s at least knows about it,” Gallus grumbled, his gaze having been staring down at the table for the past several minutes.

“Assuming we can even find him,” Spike added in. “The fact he happened to be out of town almost the same time this all started is admittedly a hay of a coincidence.”

“It’s even more complicated than you think,” Ditzy said before clarifying further, “When we learned you two had likely landed in the Griffon Kingdom, one of the first things I did when I arrived was to seek out Gruff myself. I figured that, given he’s the closest Gallus has to a legal guardian, you might turn to him for help and shelter.”

Gallus softly huffed at that—he actually hadn’t once considered even going to Gruff until learning the old-timer knew more than he’d ever said.

“Obviously though, he wasn’t at his home when I knocked any more than for you two,” Ditzy continued, idly taking in the album’s photos as she continued flipping through them. “At the time, I’d assumed much as you two were told—that he’d been called away to the Lord’s Manor on business. And I, too, thought the timing suspect, but I wanted more evidence before jumping to any conclusions. Which was why, while I was meeting with Lord Gestal, I asked him if he could confirm Gruff’s whereabouts.” She glanced up at the other two. “But he seemed surprised Gruff had left town at all, claiming that, as far as he knew, Gruff hadn’t been called out to the Lord’s Manor at all in nearly a month. Granted, Gestal admitted he hadn’t been to the manor in a couple of days himself, so it’s possible Gruff is indeed there and Gestal just hadn’t heard or been told so. But if that’s not the case…”

“…then either Gestal’s lying, so to cover for Gruff…” Gallus concluded without looking up.

“…or Gruff lied from the start, so to cover for himself,” Spike deduced, awed by this new layer to the mystery.

Ditzy nodded and turned her attention back to the photo album. “Of the two, I’m inclined to think the latter, because Gestal’s reaction felt too genuine. But if that’s the case then Gruff could be anywhere, making it all the harder to find him.” She heaved a sigh. “My point to all this being, we might be better off trying to find our answers elsewhere for now, at least until we know more.” She shook her head, amazed while gazing down at the photos in the album before her. “Besides, I think I need more time to try and process all of this first.”

“It’s…all a bit much to take in, isn’t it?” Spike asked, sympathizing.

“Well…yeah, except I can’t really deny any of it as possible, because that does look like you in these photos, Gallus,” Ditzy concluded slowly, pausing to take in the relevant photos in the album. She flipped ahead to where the photos of the dragon egg started appearing. “And given all the evidence, it does seem likely this egg would be yours, Spike.”

“So do you think this is all really…for real…then?” Spike carefully asked with nervousness.

Ditzy’s hesitation was quite visible. “Once we’re back in Canterlot, we can do some tests to be absolutely certain,” she attempted to hedge, but her gaze wandered over the table to where the bloodline stone sat nearby. “…though I know how those are supposed to work,” she continued, pointing a hoof at it, “so I suppose that alone probably ought to be enough.”

“To say nothing of the fact that Gene Type had probably already done those same tests before making his move,” Gallus suddenly added, continuing to gaze down at the table.

Ditzy’s gaze turned to him. “Do you think it’s true, then?” she asked him, her voice gentle but prodding.

Unwilling to commit an answer but unable to look her in the eye, Gallus averted her gaze further by turning his head away and not answering. Spike, tellingly, didn’t answer either when her gaze went his way, the dragon likewise avoiding eye contact.

Ditzy took a deep inhale before shutting the album and sliding it to one side. “Seriously, how are you two holding up?” she asked again with genuine concern. “I get how this must be a lot to take in, particularly all at once like this.”

A long pause followed as neither Gallus or Spike wanted to be the first to respond. Gallus in fact deeply preferred not to answer at all if it could be helped, but a niggling and annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was an unrealistic want.

Finally, Spike was the one to reply. “Honestly, I don’t know how to respond,” he admitted in a rush, like the words were just popping out of him like the cork off a bottle. “This is totally new territory for me. I…I don’t even know where to begin, let alone what the right thing to say or do should be.” He glanced over at Gallus as if expecting him to pipe in with something at this point, but Gallus stubbornly remained silent, unwilling to open up. “It’s…basically what Gallus had said to me sometime before,” he continued instead. “When we left Equestria, this wasn’t at all what we were expecting to uncover.”

“Even when considering you left in hopes of learning something about your families anyway,” Ditzy said, before snorting to herself. “Because obviously you never once stopped to consider you two are that family.” She sighed, rubbing one hoof over a temple. “I wish I could claim to know just what to say too…but for me it’s also untrodden ground.” She then perked up. “Still, I suppose the best thing you can do for now is count your blessings.”

This finally roused Gallus out of his silence, raising a questioning brow at the pegasus. “How so?”

“Well…despite everything, you’re both alive and in good health,” Ditzy reasoned.

“That is true,” Spike admitted with a small grin.

“Plus, you’ve gotten to someplace reasonably safe and have plans to get someplace even safer here soon,” Ditzy continued. She then made a cheesy grin. “And hey! You could’ve found out about this with somecreature way worse than either of you, right?”

That got both Gallus and Spike to chuckle, giving each other appreciative glances. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Gallus admitted. He stopped short of just outright saying it, but he figured he could’ve done much worse for a probable little brother than Spike.

“Beyond that, the only good advice I can give you for now is…work to adapt,” Ditzy continued. “I know finding all this out, especially the way you have, is hard…probably harder than I can truly appreciate…but to be honest, it was probably always going to be. So now that you’re past the first and hardest of these hurdles…the best thing to do now is prepare yourself the best you can for the hurdles still to come.”

Spike and Gallus went quiet, processing that advice for a moment.

“…I suppose we could be considering what the heck we’re going to say to Twilight when we meet her next,” Spike reasoned with a small grin.

“Yeah, how do you think she’ll react?” Gallus asked, considering that possibility. Up to now he’d been thinking more about what Twilight would do after she had been filled in and less about what was needed to get her up to speed first.

Spike’s grin grew bigger and took on a more teasing edge. “Oh, she’ll totally go Twily-nanas on us,” he admitted.

“Is that where she freaks out to a totally absurd degree and stops using her brain?” Gallus asked, adopting a teasing grin of his own.

“Yup,” Spike confirmed while Ditzy, fully familiar with what they were talking about, stifled a giggle. “In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe it was for the better we didn’t have the chance to tell her via the communication beetle, because this way we can actually be there to hold her back when she flips out, since we all know she will.”

This got all three of them to laugh a little, envisioning it in their heads.

“Oh, what a heck of a situation we’re in, right?” Gallus then proceeded to quip, the laughter helping to unwind the tension. “We get told some stallion has figured out who our long lost families are and get shipped halfway across the ocean just to find out what he’s learned, only to have him try and kill us, get trapped on runaway airship that we then crash, find evidence suggesting we’re apparently, secretly, hybrids and potential siblings, nearly get blown up by a patrol ship and hunted across the countryside, smuggle ourselves into Griffonstone in disguise before finally getting put into protective custody of an undercover Night Guard I had previously thought was just the local mailmare.” Despite everything, he laughed harder. “I mean, when you say it all out loud, it really does sound crazy.”

“Hey, in my defense,” Ditzy interjected, playing along, “it was my job to do that, and when you consider that meant I spent a lot of my days having fun playing the klutzy mailmare…”

Gallus and Spike both laughed. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Spike admitted.

“Though I’m still struggling to see you as anything but that,” Gallus admitted, taking the chance to take in the pegasus. The personas couldn’t be more different after all, as Ditzy even carried herself differently when acting as the Night Guard she really was. The eyepatch, which she currently had flipped up again, didn’t help either. He winced to himself though, aware of how what he was saying probably sounded. “I’m sorry, but…of all the ponies I would’ve guessed might be undercover guards, you were probably the very last.”

“Good!” Ditzy unexpectedly praised, “That just means it’s working exactly as intended. The whole point is that nobody suspects I’m a combat-trained Night Guard, because then not only would the common creature underestimate me, so would potential enemies.” She then heaved a good-natured sigh. “But if it helps, Gallus, I’m sorry you had to learn about it like this. This isn’t at all how I would’ve wanted you to.”

“Assuming I ever found out at all,” Gallus pointedly added. He wasn’t a fool, after all.

And to Ditzy’s credit, she didn’t exactly deny it. “I hope it’s enough to know that I only keep it secret because it’s required,” she stressed. “And it’s only required because if the Night Guard didn’t keep these matters secret, it’d needlessly risk harm to innocent creatures. This sucks more than it gets credit for, yes, but…it’s a job somebody’s gotta do.” Ditzy then waved that matter aside. “But we’ve got better things to talk about than that can of worms.”

Spike’s stomach chose that moment to rumble audibly. “I suppose we could talk about whether or not there’s anything to eat instead,” he suggested sheepishly while placing a paw over his belly, as if attempting to silence it.

“Well, since the embassy’s in-between ambassadors, there’s not much in the way of food supplies currently,” Ditzy admitted apologetically. “Otherwise, I’d see if I could whip up a batch of muffins because I daresay you two could use some by now.” Nevertheless, she rose from her seat. “But I did bring some military rations. It’s not the most glamorous of foods, but it’s still something.”

She went to pull out the Night Guard-issued box from the stacks of others scattered about. She was just in the process of bringing it back to the table to open when a soft beeping sound began echoing into the room.

“What’s that?” Gallus asked, perking an ear at the noise.

“Proximity alarm,” Ditzy muttered, leaving the box of rations to once again root through her equipment on the table. She eventually pulled out a small device powered by a magic gem and studied its indicators while continuing to explain. “For security reasons, the embassy is encircled by a concealed network of magic detectors that signal whenever things like airships fly into the area.”

Spike perked up at this. “So you’re saying there’s an airship flying our way?”

“According to this, it looks like it,” Ditzy remarked hesitantly.

Gallus also perked up. “That the airship the Night Guard’s supposed to be sending for us?” he guessed.

But Ditzy was frowning. “But it’s too soon. They couldn’t have gotten an airship all the way out here this quickly, not unless they already happened to have one near the Griffon Kingdom.” Her frown deepened. “But if they did, then why didn’t anypony tell me that?”

Gallus started to frown himself. “So…what happens if it isn’t the Night Guard airship?”

Spike tensed. “Could…could they maybe just be passing by?” he asked. “Does that happen?”

Ditzy made an amused snort. “All the time, actually, why do you think the proximity alert was installed in the first place?” But this still didn’t seem to reassure her as she continued studying the beeping device, watching as the encroaching airship didn’t deviate any from its course. Then, abruptly, she came to a decision. “All right, we’re going to get eyes on this craft,” she concluded, flipping her eyepatch back over its relevant eye. She pointed at Spike and Gallus as she pocketed the proximity alert, collected her crossbow, and dragged an unopened case sitting on the table closer to herself. “You two stay with me for now. I want you in my sight at all times, understand?”

Both Spike and Gallus silently nodded and moved to stay by her side while she moved the crate onto her back to carry. It looked heavy, but despite Gallus offering to assist, Ditzy shrugged off the offer and hefted it all herself. That done, she then led the way out of the dining room and on deeper into the embassy, eventually leading them into the building’s front entry. Here Gallus had to pause for a split second so to admire the embassy’s very impressively carved front doors, though he figured the closed double doors were heavy and probably took some heft to open.

Ditzy didn’t lead them to the front doors though but rather to the left and through a more inconspicuous side door next to the entry’s large cast iron fireplace. This opened into an attached corridor that Gallus swiftly realized connected to the embassy’s tower. Ditzy, focused on the task at hand, hadn’t elaborated much on what she planned to do, but by this point Gallus figured she planned to try and identify the approaching airship from there.

Said tower was fairly straightforward in structure, with most of its middle being composed of a central staircase leading to its top, which the three swiftly proceeded to climb. At the top it opened into a single circular room with windows running along nearly all of its outer edge, through which the light of the setting sun streamed in with enough intensity that the room didn’t need any additional lighting. This room seemed to be for the explicit purpose of monitoring security at the embassy and as such was already equipped with a lot of the gear needed for exactly that. This included a mounted telescope, a shelf of smaller and more portable collapsible spyglasses, another of the proximity alert devices like what Ditzy carried, and even a radio set-up a lot like the one Gallus remembered Gene Type had on his airship.

For the moment though, Ditzy ignored all of it, quickly shrugging the crate off her back and onto the floor then moving to the western side of the tower. It took only a moment of scanning the skies before she pointed with her hoof. “There it is,” she remarked to Gallus and Spike still obediently staying by her side.

Sure enough, the airship was just visible as a dark speck gradually growing bigger as it leisurely made its way closer to the embassy. With the sun behind it casting it in shadow, it was fairly easy to see overall, but hard to make out much in the way of its finer details.

“That’s a teeny looking airship,” Gallus noted, observing how small it was. “It can’t be much more than a flying cockpit, really.”

“I suppose that could mean it’s just a privately owned airship,” Spike reasoned not illogically.

Ditzy hummed to herself, the idea relaxing her slightly. “Could be,” she concurred and moved over to the tower’s radio, switching it on. “Unidentified approaching airship,” she broadcasted into the receiver, “you have entered the airspace of the Equestrian embassy without authorization. Please identify yourself and state your intentions immediately.”

Disconcertingly, no response was broadcasted back. Instead all they heard was the gentle hiss of background static.

Undeterred though, Ditzy continued trying to raise the airship. While she repeated her message to them though, Gallus opted to scoop up one of the spyglasses and put it to his eye, trying to see what else he could make out of the craft. “Well, it’s definitely griffon-built,” he noted after a moment, “but with the sun behind it, I can’t really make out much else beyond that.”

“So it could just be a private ship?” Spike asked him, clearly hoping not to repeat their encounter with the Reliant from the previous night.

“Maybe,” Gallus said. He watched it draw ever closer through his spyglass. If he waited for it to get closer still, he could probably make out more then. But if the airship meant them harm, it’d probably be too late by that point. “But admittedly, I’m not confident. Something about all of this isn’t adding up.” His gaze then fell upon the mounted telescope and concluded it probably had the better magnification. “Lemme see if I can make out anything else with this.”

“I repeat,” Ditzy continued broadcasting into the radio while he did this, “Unidentified airship, you are ordered to cease your approach and identify yourself. You are currently in violation of restricted airspace and failure to cooperate could result in security protocols engaging against you.”

Gallus winced to himself at how quickly this seemed to be escalating, pulling off the lens covers on the telescope and proceeding to find the airship with it. By now it had gotten close enough to allow Gallus to make out a few finer details about its shape. But he still had the same problem as before: the sunset casting it in shadow was hiding the truly important details that would’ve easily identified it. Gallus was starting to suspect this may have been done deliberately, not helping ease suspicions about it. He decided to try and see if he could point the telescope at the craft’s cockpit and make out anything within.

Meanwhile, Ditzy was clearly through playing around. “Unidentified airship, respond or retreat now or you will be fired upon.” This got Spike’s head to whip around in alarm, but she waved a hoof at him to keep him silent while waiting for any response. Yet as before, there was absolutely nothing but static. Finally, thumping her hoof in frustration, Ditzy left the radio and returned to the crate she’d brought up here. “Well, I warned them.”

Spike’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not going to try and shoot them, are you?”

“No, I’m going to fire a warning shot past their bow, prove that I’m serious,” Ditzy explained as she opened up the crate, revealing a much larger version of her crossbow folded up inside, enough to fire off projectiles bearing a bit more oomph. “Hopefully that’ll get them to take the hint and retreat.”

“…and if they don’t?” Spike warily asked, watching her unfold the weapon that was about half as long as she was.

“Then like I said, I warned them,” Ditzy reiterated darkly while she worked. She didn’t sound particularly pleased she’d been forced into this though.

Gallus, listening to all of this as he kept working the telescope, couldn’t blame her. So when he realized the sunlight shining behind the airship helped to outline shapes within its cockpit, he didn’t hesitate to speak up. “Ditzy, I can just make out creatures inside that airship,” he reported to her as she balanced the massive crossbow on the sill nearby, opening the window she’d chosen to fire through. “By my count, there appear to be about three, all of them griffons—I can clearly make out the outlines of their beaks.”

“That definitely rules out it being a Night Guard craft then,” Ditzy grunted in growing frustration as she loaded up the crossbow with what looked like a small rocket.

She took a brief second to take aim before firing. The little rocket leapt off her weapon with great speed, but it’d barely traveled a couple of feet before its tail lit up like the rocket it was, propelling it even faster towards its target. It reached the airship within moments, but as Ditzy had promised, the rocket deliberately shot close but entirely past it before finally detonating not far behind it in a magic-fueled explosion. The shockwave visibly shook the airship as it swept over it, but worryingly, the airship’s course did not waver and continued looming ever closer to the embassy.

Far more concerning though was that the light from the detonating rocket managed to, for a split second, light one side of the craft’s cockpit which Gallus was still watching through the telescope. In that split second, the shadows covering the airship were stripped away and Gallus caught sight of the crew’s faces. He didn’t recognize any of them but he didn’t need to—the small glints of light reflecting off their clothing told him enough.

“Ditzy, the crew is all in uniform!” he declared in alarm as he whipped his head around to look at her, feeling his stomach sink at the implications. “They’re military!”

Ditzy understood instantly and uncharacteristically swore. “Did you see if any of them were a commodore?” she demanded hurriedly. “Wearing a rank of a star and a band underneath?”

Gallus only had the briefest of glimpses and even then only from afar, but he nevertheless felt certain of it. “I think so!”

Ditzy slammed her hoof on the window sill. “Commodore Garrett,” she hissed darkly, before turning away, full of purpose. “You two get back into the embassy and find cover!” she ordered as she went back to the crate and grabbed another rocket to fire.

“But you told us to stay in your—!” Spike started to object as Gallus spun away from the telescope and grabbed the dragon’s shoulder, leading him to the exit.

“You two are the targets, not me!” Ditzy summarized bluntly. “And they’re nearly in firing range, so get back down into the embassy where you’ll have more cover NOW!”

Her intensity startled Spike into obeying, and he and Gallus quickly scrambled out of the room, seeing Ditzy hurrying to reload her rocket crossbow before she vanished from their view. They shortly got confirmation that the airship was trying to finish what the Reliant could not when, once they were about halfway down the tower stairs, return fire was heard striking the top of the tower, followed by the sound falling debris and a cloud of dust rushing back down the stairs behind them.

“Ditzy!” Spike cried in alarm and started to turn back, but Gallus grabbed him and kept him moving forward. As much as he hated admitting it, Ditzy was right—they were the real targets, and as such, it was more important they try to get to safety while they still could.

Besides, they soon saw Ditzy wasn’t down and out yet as, while racing down the hallway connecting the tower with the rest of the embassy, they passed its sole window in time to see a second rocket be fired from the damaged top of the tower, and this time it wasn’t a warning shot. The airship attempted to turn away from it, but it was too slow and only left its backend exposed in time for the rocket to slam into its engines, critically exploding on impact. Half of the airship was on fire in an instant. It continued to drift off course from the impact for only a moment before there was an audible pop from its lifting envelope bursting and the whole airship abruptly dropped like a stone, slamming into the embassy grounds nose first with a crunch that completely flattened what remained.

Gallus and Spike stopped to whoop and cheer for this successful victory before Gallus tugged Spike to keep moving. “Just in case there’re survivors,” he explained as he threw open the door leading back into the entry hall, “we better keep doing as Ditzy ordered until—” he skidded to a halt upon seeing the long ray of sunlight cast on the floor when there hadn’t been before. Turning revealed that the front doors he’d admired earlier and had most definitely been closed were now left wide open. “Wait, who—?”

He started to look the other way for an explanation when the other griffon was suddenly upon him, grabbing him tightly by the throat with his talons. Letting out a squawk of surprise, Gallus desperately grabbed at the intruding paw, trying to rip it off his neck, but the adult attacker was bigger and stronger than he was and didn’t have much trouble keeping his grip. It didn’t help that the all-too valuable air had been squeezed out of Gallus’s throat, his lungs already reacting negatively to the sudden cut-off of oxygen.

“Hey!” Spike cried in nearly the same instant and threw himself at their attacker, slashing his claws at the griffon’s hindquarters. The griffon flinched and lashed out with a swift kick of his back leg, catching Spike in the middle. This knocked the little dragon backwards, colliding headfirst with the nearby cast iron stove with a clang before crumpling to the floor, out cold.

“S-Spike!” Gallus tried to choke out, but didn’t get any further as the other griffon gave his throat a painful squeeze and swung the hallway door they’d entered through closed.

That done and Spike out of commission for the moment, he put his full attention on Gallus, turning around so his back was to the open front doors and putting Gallus fully into the sunset’s light. Gallus was meanwhile still struggling to do something to reduce the choking squeeze on his throat. But the griffon was lifting him up high enough that Gallus’s hindlegs had to strain on their tippy-toes so to still grip the floor, something Gallus desperately needed or else the only thing keeping him up was the griffon’s grip on his throat and that would only choke him faster. Already his lungs were burning from the decreased oxygen and his extremities tingly and weakening from the loss of air. Still, he was able to make small gasps of air, just enough to keep him alert and conscious, as the attacking griffon wasn’t quite squeezing hard enough to choke him fully…yet.

Unable to remove the talons from his throat though, Gallus took the chance to take in his attacker. He was a male griffon old enough to start showing some grey and a few wrinkles, but clearly he was still quite physically fit. This was likely due to his career, as he wore the distinct officer’s uniform of the griffon military, though the uniform was somewhat dirtied and scorched, particularly along one side. Gallus deduced that he must’ve been on the airship and jumped out just before Ditzy shot it down, narrowly escaping the explosion that took it out. He must’ve then forced his way into the embassy in time to catch Gallus and Spike. If his life wasn’t currently on the line, Gallus would kick himself for walking right into the trap.

But Gallus also noticed the griffon’s rank, portrayed as a golden star above a matching band, and suddenly deduced his attacker’s identity. “Commodore…Garrett…I presume,” he managed to spit out at him in-between gasps for air.

Garrett chuckled darkly. “Very good,” he praised degradingly, eying Gallus like he was some rabid dog to put down. “I must admit, you two have both proven far more capable than anticipated. It’s been a lot of trouble chasing you down again after the good doctor Gene Type predictably failed with his supposed gentlestallion’s approach to killing you two.” He tightened his grip on Gallus’s throat and the little air he’d still been able to gulp down vanished. “But I always get my prey in the end.”

“…why?” Gallus managed to choke out, his desperation to pry himself free growing now that he just about couldn’t breathe at all, but his limbs were weakening too quickly to find any purchase.

“You’re a hybrid,” Garrett replied in a hiss, “A corruption, an abomination—the fact you were allowed to live even this long is an affront to nature. And the precedent your very existence sets is dangerous to all, considering the sort of monsters hybridizing leads to. So no more—I will finish you and the other one…” he motioned to Spike’s limp body on the floor, “…and that’ll be the end of it, short and simple.” He reached to his belt and pulled out a dagger. “Don’t worry. I intend to make this quick.”

“…no…” Gallus gurgled in Garrett’s grip, but there was nothing else he could do. His brain was starting to feel fuzzy from the lack of air, he basically had no strength left to give in any of his limbs, and darkness was starting to fade in around the corners of his vision. He was already on the verge of unconsciousness, helpless to do anything to stop Garrett’s impending attack as he raised the dagger over his head, ready for the lethal stab.

But then Garrett abruptly jerked, flinging his head backwards. His eyes bulged in surprise, his mouth opening but no sound came out except for a faint gagging sound. His trembling hold on the dagger loosened until it fell harmlessly to the floor with a clatter. Suddenly he was struggling to stay upright, wavering on his haunches. Without warning, his grip released and Gallus was allowed to thump to the floor gasping, greedily gulping some much needed air down his aching throat. He took a moment to focus on steadying his breathing again, his body tingling as oxygen flowed through it once more, before turning his attention back on Garrett.

He did so in time for Garrett to tip over and fall to the floor, landing on his side with a gurgle. A previously unseen arrow was protruding from the back of his neck and blood already pooling on the floor around him. Gallus scrambled back from the rapidly growing puddle, staring in horror as Garrett’s eyes swiftly turned glassy and lifeless, before finally looking upward in the direction the arrow must’ve been fired from.

There, standing in the open embassy doorway, another arrow already placed on his longbow but not yet drawn back to fire, was Gruff, eyeing Gallus with his usual ill-tempered expression.

“Do I have to do everything for you, boy?” he grouched out loud.
> Family
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Still wheezing somewhat as he continued to recover from his near-strangling, Gallus stared at Gruff standing in the entry for a long moment, shocked to see the elderly griffon. But finally, as his brain caught up, he quickly snatched Garrett’s fallen dagger and brandished it at Gruff while scooting further away from him. This show of aggression didn’t really faze Gruff though, who only raised a single eyebrow as if to silently ask “really?”

Gallus nevertheless kept the dagger pointed at him, albeit somewhat shakily due to his limbs still regaining their strength. At the moment, all he could think about was how Gruff had to be involved in all of this too, and as such he didn’t want to underestimate him until he was certain what side Gruff was really on. Gruff, apparently thinking this should be self-evident, was content to let Gallus do so with the clear expectation that he’d figure it out himself. In the meantime, he likewise took in Gallus with his good eye, otherwise making no move towards him except to continue to stand there expectantly.

“Why is your face red?” he finally asked pointedly, not so much out of confusion but rather chagrin.

Gallus put his claws to his face, remembering abruptly he still had the inks rubbed into portions of his coat. He chose to return Gruff’s earlier “really?” expression and otherwise not respond, more interested in figuring out Gruff’s game. He still held his longbow, but he hadn’t drawn back the notched arrow to fire and he’d even lowered it from being at the ready. Really, Gruff was just being oddly casual, like all the other times Gallus had encountered him, and didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to move on to…whatever the next step after shooting Garrett was supposed to be.

Which finally did get Gallus to pause—if anything, Gruff had effectively signaled he was here to help, not hinder, but he still wasn’t sure he was ready to trust Gruff like that.

Gruff, meanwhile, had begun surveying the rest of the room. He motioned to Spike still lying limply where he’d fallen. “You want to go check on him now?” he prompted, in the sort of tone suggesting Gallus really shouldn’t need the reminder.

But reminder it was, and Gallus’s heart suddenly leapt in concern for the dragon. Keeping his eyes on Gruff as a precaution, he crawled over to Spike and quickly looked him over. He had an obvious bruise on his head and was still unconscious, but had a strong and healthy pulse and stirred faintly at Gallus’s touch, so he hoped that meant Spike would be okay and maybe even wake soon. That done, Gallus returned his full attention back to Gruff only to see that, except for his gaze continuing to follow him, Gruff still hadn’t moved.

“Where have you been this whole time?” Gallus finally asked him in a croak, the best his still-sore throat could do at the moment.

Gruff’s response was typically unenlightening. “I could ask you the same thing, boy.”

Annoyed, Gallus was considering if it was really worth his time pressing the matter when the hallway door suddenly burst open and Ditzy raced in, covered with bits of plaster and a few scratches but otherwise unhurt. She needed only one look at the state of affairs in the room before whirling her crossbow onto Gruff. “Drop your weapon,” she ordered, sternly gazing at him with her eyepatch-free eye.

Gruff, who had whipped up his longbow the same moment Ditzy had, maintained his aim. “You first, pony,” he challenged back.

“I said drop your weapon!” Ditzy stressed again anyway. She was clearly in no mood for games. “We know there are griffons in this conspiracy.”

“And I know there are ponies in it too,” Gruff countered.

Ditzy’s gaze narrowed, catching the implication. “Not this pony,” she stressed before repeating her earlier order. “Now drop your weapon before I make you drop it.”

“Not unless I shoot you first,” Gruff threatened back.

“You would be assaulting a member of the Equestrian Night Guard then.”

If anything, that only made Gruff more resolute. “That seems like a plus to me.”

So Ditzy attempted a different approach. “Look, I’d rather no one be shot here, but I’ll do what I must so to protect Gallus and Spike.”

“Funny, that’s what I’m here to do too.” Gruff’s tone was sarcastic. He tilted his head at Ditzy, clearly unwilling to trust her. “So how do I know you aren’t pretending so to get close enough to kill them yourself?”

“Because she was the one who shot down the airship that brought him here,” Gallus swiftly interjected on Ditzy’s behalf, pointing at Garrett’s corpse with his empty paw. “And we were with her for hours before then without problem. If she really wanted to harm us, she would’ve done so ages ago.”

“Then where was she when he had you by the throat, hmm?” Gruff asked of Gallus, likewise jabbing his head at Garrett’s body.

“I was making sure there weren’t any other survivors to worry about on that airship,” Ditzy explained, her gaze hard. “There aren’t, by the way, but when I noticed one of the three that were supposed to be aboard was missing, I realized one of them must’ve escaped without my noticing and hurried back here.”

“By which point they both probably would be dead if I hadn’t intervened,” Gruff noted pointedly.

Ditzy took a deep breath. “Then it was a good thing that you were here,” she relented in an attempt to show favor.

Gruff tilted his head at her in mild puzzlement, clearly not expecting the compliment.

It was then that Spike suddenly came to with a gasp, before immediately wrapping both arms around his aching skull with a groan. “Easy, easy,” Gallus said gently as he helped the dragon sit up, setting down Garrett’s dagger in the process—he trusted Ditzy would keep him covered now. “You took a pretty good hit to the head there.”

“You’re telling me,” Spike grumbled before taking in the unsavory situation with widening eyes. “…what happened?” he managed to ask with notable alarm, particularly once he saw what had happened to the commodore.

“Helped save your butts, for one thing,” Gruff grumbled, keeping his working eye on Ditzy.

“Look,” Ditzy attempted to reason at this point. “We can’t afford to stay in this standoff forever and you know it. But it’s looking to me like we both might be on the same side anyway.”

“Prove it by dropping your weapon,” Gruff challenged, undeterred.

“Not until you drop yours,” Ditzy stressed, “Because at the moment, you’re the only one who hasn’t proved that assessment’s right.”

Gruff snorted. “And what in Grover’s name is keeping you from thinking I haven’t already?” he asked.

So Gallus answered for him with a question of his own. “You knew…didn’t you, Gruff?” His tone was dark and unforgiving. “You knew why all this is happening, yet you told no one.”

Gruff’s eyes narrowed somewhat. “I have my reasons,” he replied.

“I’d love to hear what they are,” Ditzy remarked.

“I’m not telling you anything, pony.”

“Oh, I’ll get you to talk one way or another,” Ditzy promised severely. “The real question is, will you do it in that gravelly baritone of yours…” she abruptly lowered her aim so to point much, much, lower on Gruff’s torso. “…or will you do it in high soprano?”

To his credit, Gruff managed to mostly keep himself from reacting to that threat, but Gallus couldn’t help noticing him cross his hindlegs protectively.

“The point is, Gruff,” Ditzy continued, “I’m not leaving these two until I see this is all safely over. The only way you will be able to change that is if you shoot me, but I guarantee that won’t do anything to win you any trust. No matter what, you’re going to be stuck with me, so if you want in…you need to earn it first.”

Gruff scowled, but at the same time Gallus could see the gears whirling behind his working eye. Finally, with a huff, Gruff relented and slowly lowered his bow again. In response, Ditzy did likewise. They continued to stare each other down to ensure it’d stay that way for a minute longer, but finally Ditzy turned her attention from him and onto Gallus and Spike beside her.

“You two okay?” she asked as she sat down so to look Spike over.

Gallus had been pawing at his throat again, still sore but slowly recovering. “Shaken, but I’ll live,” he concluded finally.

Spike was still holding his skull. “My head still aches but I think it’s getting better,” he reported while Ditzy looked him over. He eyed Garrett’s graphically dead body. “Can’t help but feel like I missed something, though,” he said in a very weak attempt to make light of the situation, but there wasn’t any feeling to it. Gallus felt pity for the poor dragon, being witness to his second death in as many days.

“If it helps, I was late to the party too,” Ditzy nevertheless played along, holding open each of Spike’s eyes in turn and peering into them, watching how his pupils responded. She hummed approvingly. “Well, you don’t seem to be showing any signs of a concussion or other serious head trauma, so hopefully that means the worst you got is just that bump on the head.” She grinned optimistically. “That dragon skull seems to have pulled through for ya, huh?”

Spike attempted to return the grin but it was half-hearted. He kept rubbing at his head. “Sure doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted while letting her help him stand, doing so rather shakily.

“Can you walk?” Ditzy asked next once he was on his feet. “There’s no way our little fireworks show went unseen, so it won’t be long before we have swarms of griffons sweeping in to investigate. And since I’d rather keep you both out of the public spotlight, we’re going to need somewhere else to hide out.”

“I know of a place,” Gruff suddenly spoke up. When the others turned to look questioningly at him, he continued. “It’s empty, secluded, and barely anyone should know it’s out there. I can lead you to it.”

Gallus didn’t buy it. “And how do we know you wouldn’t be leading us into a trap?” he demanded before Ditzy could speak, which earned him an annoyed glance but she otherwise didn’t interrupt.

Gruff answered by unexpectedly putting his longbow and quiver of arrows on the floor and sliding both over to Ditzy, raising his talons in casual surrender. “Because you will be the ones with the weapons, not me,” he said. He gave Ditzy in particular a pointed look. “You said I needed to prove I can be trusted. Is this proof enough for you?”

Ditzy scooped up the surrendered weapons and looped them over her shoulder. “It’s a good start,” she admitted, sticking with her crossbow as her weapon of choice. “I assume you’ll lead the way while we follow?”

Gruff nodded, so since he was being unexpectedly cooperative, Gallus added another condition. “And then you’ll sit down and explain everything?” he grilled.

Gruff gave Gallus a look he couldn’t quite interpret. “I suppose I’ll have to,” he relented, and nodded his agreement to this too.

Ditzy motioned everyone to get ready. “Then I think we shouldn’t delay any longer.”

They took only long enough to collect Spike’s backpack with their evidence, Ditzy’s transponder, the box of rations, and the communications beetle in its charger before fleeing. The rest of Ditzy’s equipment they had to leave behind, Ditzy admitting she didn’t like doing so but knew it’d take too long to try and move it all out themselves in the scant amount of time they undoubtedly had.

“Besides,” she reasoned as they departed out the embassy’s back door, “with a little luck, any other conspirators who come looking for us may see we did that, think that meant we didn’t flee far, and keep searching in the wrong areas for us.”

Gallus personally thought that was wishful thinking, but agreed there wasn’t time to waste trying either way. They barely had enough time to grab what they did as it was, for the embassy grounds were still within their sight when a griffon patrol airship arrived—no doubt drawn by the column of smoke the downed airship was still putting off, easily visible from just about anywhere in Griffonstone, even in the twilight that had now settled on the land. Gallus further knew that the only reason it’d taken even that long for any griffon to come investigate was probably because most griffons liked to ignore anything deemed not their problem, which on this occasion worked to their advantage—had this happened in Equestria, the embassy probably would’ve been swarmed by concerned ponies almost immediately after shooting down that airship.

Nevertheless, they escaped the embassy without notice, and once off the embassy grounds, Gruff took the lead to silently guide them to their mysterious destination. Gallus still wasn’t sure he wanted to trust him like this, but he felt better about it knowing that Ditzy could shoot him at a moment’s notice, even if she seemed more willing to give Gruff the benefit of the doubt for now. But Gruff seemed to be pulling through, leading them straightaway out past Griffonstone’s eastern border where more trees grew and using that foliage as added cover. He then started leading them gradually to the south via meandering and scarcely used forest paths. Other than to give them instructions on where to go, he didn’t speak much. But then they all didn’t, probably out of an abundance of caution.

Still recovering from his blow to the head, Spike spent around half the hike riding on Gallus’s back, Gallus’s way of letting him recuperate in peace. But eventually Spike felt well enough to jump off and start walking under his own power. He seemed fine, but Gallus kept a discreet eye on him anyway. He himself was still feeling a bit shaken from the close call with Commodore Garrett, and as much as he hated admitting it, he couldn’t help but shudder in fear at what would’ve happened had Gruff not intervened when he did. Interestingly, Gallus found himself less worried about what would’ve happened to himself and more about Spike. The kid had already been through far more than he should’ve and barely deserved the fate he currently faced even now, so he could only hope they were indeed being led somewhere they could get away from that, if just for Spike’s sake.

Though he came to question even that once Gruff started leading them down another, even less used, path forking off the one they’d been following for the past several minutes. “This way,” the elderly griffon grunted as he started up the small and gradual incline the path went over.

Ditzy and Spike obediently followed him without objections. Gallus, however, stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly struck with an almost overwhelming sense of dread as he stared at the path. The others managed to get a good couple of feet ahead of him before noticing he’d stopped and turned to look back at him in puzzlement.

“Is there something wrong, Gallus?” Ditzy asked.

“We can’t go that way,” Gallus replied reflexively, continuing to stare at the path.

“What?” Spike asked. “Why not?”

Gallus suddenly realized he didn’t know. “It’s…it’s too dangerous.”

“Codswallop!” Gruff declared, “Nobody ever goes down this path. I don’t think any griffons even know it’s out here anymore except for me.”

“Look, I can’t explain it, all right?” Gallus snapped, frustrated. “I just…whenever I look at that path, I get this sense that there’s…something really bad at the end of it.”

The others exchanged confused looks. “Gruff, what’s out here in these woods anyway?” Ditzy asked, turning concerned.

Gruff shrugged. “Nothing out of the normal,” he said, “Really just trees and the usual woodland critters. Squirrels, mice, rabbits, raccoons…all of which are easy prey for griffons. Been out here hunting for them myself loads of times over the years, so shouldn’t be anything we can’t handle.”

Gallus wasn’t convinced. “Then why are we out here?” he challenged Gruff and flung a paw down the path ahead of them. “What’s even at the end of this, Gruff?”

To his surprise, the look Gruff gave him was almost sad. “For you,” he replied solemnly, “home.”

A chill went down Gallus’s spine at that and now his feelings became a lot more mixed, unsure how he should respond. It was at least enough to urge him forward again, albeit reluctantly. The feeling that he was for some reason endangering himself going down this path didn’t go away—in fact, it only slowly grew the further they went—but it was also soon joined by an extremely surreal sense of déjà vu, like he’d seen this path before. And yet it also seemed jarringly unfamiliar too, like he hadn’t seen it before, or rather, like significant things had changed about it since he last saw it. The closest he could think to describe the sensation was to compare it to walking into a house you had lived in your whole life after it had been extensively remodeled—there were parts that still seemed immediately familiar, but also others that seemed completely different.

So it seemed with this path, and Gallus kept getting struck with sensations like the foliage was growing too thick around the path, or that the path should be more worn than it was. It was leaving Gallus with so many crossed wires in his head he felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack trying to process it all. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was covered in a cold sweat, and he had to make a concentrated effort not to hyperventilate. It was so bad that everyone else, even Gruff, kept shooting him worried looks, unsure if he could really take this. But they pressed on anyway, and only a few short minutes later they arrived at a sharp turn in the path where it opened into a small, artificially deforested, clearing.

There, nestled cozily in the middle of it, was a modest two-story cottage-like house with a veranda-like front porch, all built of plain wooden walls likely coming from the very trees that were cut down to make room for it. It seemed to be a good number of years old and bore a worn look to match, but it was otherwise intact and perfectly livable. It, in fact, seemed to be in better condition overall than the average house in Griffonstone. Yet it was clearly dark and vacant, and one had the immediate impression no one was living in the house, at least not regularly.

And the sight of it only redoubled Gallus’s overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

“This is it,” Gruff announced as they arrived, marching right up to the front door while the others continued to take in the exterior. Pulling out a key from a well-hidden cranny somewhere on its porch, he used it to unlock the door and allow them to enter.

Here, Ditzy resumed taking the lead again. She stopped long enough to pile up what they had brought with them on the floor before instructing Gallus and Spike to wait there in the living room while she quickly made sure the house was truly secure. She took Gruff along with her—she didn’t explain why, but it seemed clear it was to keep him close just in case he really had led them into a trap. Gruff did not object however, and seemed content enough to humor her.

Left to themselves for the moment then, Gallus and Spike silently stood in the living room, taking in their new surroundings. The mood was uneasy and the tension thick—Gallus sensed a turning point in this affair was imminent, which did not help with his ongoing feelings of recognition he couldn’t quite place about the whole building, especially now that he was standing inside of it.

And now even Spike looked to be sensing the same thing as he turned around and around, taking in the room with a visibly anxious look. There wasn’t all that much to see, for the furniture had been covered up with white cloth to protect it from years of disuse, and most of the smaller things that probably once decorated the tables and shelves had all been packed away in boxes, stacked up in the corners where they were mostly out of the way. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for Spike to piece it together.

“Gallus,” he breathed in awe finally, breaking the silence once he was certain, “I recognize this room.” He looked at the griffon. “You can see it in the background in several of the pictures in the photo album.” One paw hesitantly reached around to his backpack containing said album, silently debating whether or not to pull it out to compare.

Gallus, meanwhile, had already reached the same conclusion, but found his déjà vu ran far, far, deeper than that. He had the sense of recognition for this place not because he’d seen it in a photo album…he suspected it was because he had actually lived here once, years now long past. And being here was starting to dredge long forgotten memories back near the top of his mind…though never quite enough to break the surface, as Gallus still had the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that there was a reason he had the overwhelming sense something terrible had transpired here. Something his mind had spent most of his life wanting to forget.

“It’s clear,” Ditzy suddenly announced as she returned with Gruff. She flipped up her eyepatch to reveal both eyes again. “Not only is there nobody here but us, it’s obvious scarcely anyone has been here in years.”

Something snapped in Gallus at that point and he whipped around to stare directly into Gruff’s eyes. “Except Gruff,” he stated plainly, absolutely certain of that fact. He stared down the elderly griffon, who only stared back not with a look of resentment as usual…but rather one bordering on pity. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he motioned to the boxes stacked in the corners. “In fact, why do I get the feeling you were the one who packed all of this up?”

Gruff didn’t reply right away despite all eyes gravitating towards him, anticipating his answer. “I was really the only one left who could, Gallus,” he finally admitted soberly.

Gallus’s breathing accelerated, as did his heartbeat to the point it felt like it was trying to bash its way out of his chest. “You knew them,” he challenged resolutely, “didn’t you?”

Gruff paused long enough to weigh his options, but his choice was clear to everyone in the room—the answer was a mere formality at this point and they all knew it. “Yes,” he said simply, yet the word seemed to resonate with a hidden complexity underlying it.

In his growing emotional state, Gallus hadn’t realized he’d started to surge toward the other griffon until Ditzy swiftly halted him with one wing. “Why didn’t you TELL me?” he hissed. The storm of emotions bubbling within him was too thick and mixed up to clearly decipher, but a growing fury was definitely one of them.

Gruff however remained as resolute and solid as a brick wall, more for Gallus’s benefit than his own. “Gallus,” he said unusually gently but gravely, “until I found you working at that stand of Gilda’s…” his gaze shifted so to include Spike as well, “…I had thought you both to be long dead.”

A chilling silence fell in the room for a long moment.

Ditzy moved to Gruff. “I think it’s time you gave us those answers you promised, Gruff,” she urged gently.

To Gallus’s surprise, Gruff readily agreed. “I think so too,” he said.

They all moved to take seats where available in the living room. Gruff chose to take a seat on the covered couch that still served as the room’s centerpiece—an act Gallus found somewhat ironic, because him doing so shifted the white cloth covering it just enough to give Gallus a fleeting glimpse of its unappealing upholstery. He immediately identified it as the same ugly second-hand couch Gruff sat upon in the photo that first clued them of the griffon’s involvement. Ditzy meanwhile made a fire in the room’s fireplace, casting a warm and welcomed glow within the otherwise dark room, before taking a seat on the floor nearby, as if moderating. Gallus and Spike took their seats on a pair of stools they placed opposite of the couch, putting a covered coffee table between them.

Gruff started things off with a heavy sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his beak wearily. “So you all had best start by telling me what you’ve already figured out yourselves,” he prompted.

So Spike pulled out the photo album and turned to a specific page. “Well, this was kind of what got us in the right ballpark,” he explained humorlessly, setting it on the table and turning it around so Gruff could see.

Gruff looked at the photo of the griffoness and dragon with a young Gallus nestled between them with a heavy gaze. “That would do it, all right,” he admitted, letting the talons massaging his beak with run down the side of his wrinkly face. “Always with the photos, those two,” he murmured mostly to himself.

“There was also this,” Gallus added, reaching into Spike’s backpack to pull out the bloodline stone wrapped in its cloth and also putting it on the table.

Gruff reacted with surprise once Gallus uncovered it. “Sweet Grover, I haven’t seen that in years,” he murmured in awe, reaching out to run his talons along it. Tellingly, the stone didn’t react at all to Gruff’s touch. “I’d thought it was lost forever…how did you get it?”

“Gene Type had it,” Spike explained, before elaborating. “He was the geneticist who…”

“I know who he was,” Gruff interrupted in a growl before turning his attention back to the tablet, briefly lost in thought. “They must have taken this the night they…” he trailed off, hanging his head. Seeing Gruff like this was only further unsettling Gallus. “I assume it responds to both of you, then?” he then asked.

Spike and Gallus answered by both taking turns pressing a claw onto the tablet’s surface, which lit up with its eerie green glow each time.

Gruff nodded to himself. “Of course,” he mumbled, “but then it was already obvious it would.” He breathed a sigh, turning his attention back to the open photo album. He seemed to be lost in old memories.

Gallus wasn’t willing to let him reminisce though. “Who were they, Gruff?” he prompted firmly.

Gruff instead gazed at him sadly. “You really don’t remember them,” he asked, sounding almost sorry, “…do you?”

Gallus’s voice caught in his throat, not knowing how to even begin to answer that. “Gruff, all I’ve ever known is being a forgotten street urchin,” he responded, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he said it, “Just…an ordinary griffon nobody.”

“You are far more than just an ordinary griffon, Gallus,” Gruff assured confidently. “The griffon half is just what happened to show most obviously in you.”

The statement, cryptic in its implications but touching in its intent, stunned Gallus into silence, unable to find his voice.

Fortunately he didn’t have to, as Gruff decided he’d beaten about the bush long enough. “I suppose I should start at the beginning,” he said, pulling together his thoughts. He pointed a talon at the griffoness pictured in the photo album. “Her name was Gwen. She was a historian, like me. We often worked together on various projects for the lords. At one time I’d even thought about making her my eventual replacement as the kingdom archivist.” He now pointed a talon at the dragon. “But then she met this fellow, named Spark, while traveling back to Griffonstone from the Lord’s Manor.”

Ditzy frowned. “What was a dragon doing so deep in the Griffon Kingdom?” she asked. “Looking for gems?”

Gruff smirked. “Actually, he was looking for plants.”

“Plants?” Gallus and Spike both chorused together, confused.

“That was my reaction too,” Gruff admitted, amused by their response. “But most plant life fascinated Spark—there’s barely any growing in the Dragon Lands, see, so for him it was new and unusual. He wanted to learn what they were, how they worked, and how you could use them for yourself.”

“So, what, he was something of an herbalist?” Gallus attempted to summarize.

“Sounds to me he was more of a botanist,” Ditzy reasoned instead.

“More both, really,” Gruff admitted, “He’d go out to some new land, look for plants he hadn’t already learned about, and come back with bags full of samples, sharing tales of his adventures. He’d then record what he’d found and go and do it all again.”

“Wait, so you’re saying he was a roamer?” Spike declared, eyes lighting up with intrigue.

Gruff shrugged noncommittedly. “Sure, I guess.”

“Since I clearly don’t know,” Gallus interjected, “what’s a roamer?”

“Basically any dragon who doesn’t spend their entire life in the Dragon Lands and…well…roams around instead, taking in the sights,” Spike explained, glancing at Gallus. “It’s actually how other dragons learn what’s going on in the rest of the world, from what the roamers learn in their travels and come back to tell.”

“Well, that was what Spark was doing when he met Gwen,” Gruff summarized, getting back on topic, “He always claimed that she was lost and he helped give her directions…but I’ve long suspected it was actually he who was lost, he just didn’t like admitting it. Regardless, they ended up accompanying each other back to Griffonstone and got to talking. Gwen saw Spark as an opportunity to learn more about dragon history, so she struck him a deal—if he’d share what history he knew, she’d point him to a grove of rare plants she knew of. Spark agreed, they spent the day doing just that, then parted ways on cordial terms, figuring they wouldn’t ever cross paths again.”

“But they did anyway, didn’t they?” Gallus asked, eyeing the couple in the photo album.

Gruff nodded. “They kept finding excuses so to meet up again and on it went from there. Gwen had kept insisting that they were just acquaintances, but it was obvious they were crazy for each other. Finally, after nearly a year of this, Spark brought Gwen to the Dragon Lands for her first time. The idea was to just show her around, but things…ended up escalating instead.”

Spike perked up, blushing faintly. “You saying he added her to his hoard?”

“Added her to his hoard?” Gallus repeated with an amused snort. “What, is that supposed to be a dragon euphemism or something?”

“Yes and no, because there is a…literal…element to it,” Ditzy explained awkwardly. “The dragon lord explained it to me once, but without getting too detailed, it’s the dragon way of declaring their interest in someone.”

“And they were effectively ‘official’ in the dragon eyes after that,” Gruff continued. “Then in the griffon eyes too once Gwen arranged a wedding for them not long thereafter.”

“So they were legally married and everything,” Ditzy concluded, surprised.

“Yes, and as you can imagine, that drew a lot of attention,” Gruff added, his tone darkening slightly. “Two creatures that weren’t even the same species as a couple? Some weren’t comfortable with it.” He lowered his gaze slightly. “I admit even I thought Gwen was making a mistake at first.” He then perked up a little. “But Spark and Gwen refused to let that keep them apart. Since the griffons seemed to ignore them so long as they stayed out of the way, they eventually settled here, on the outskirts of Griffonstone.” Gruff gazed around at their surroundings. “They built most of this house themselves, putting a lot of love and care into it…like they did for each other.”

Gallus had turned distant, looking at the family photo in the album again, specifically himself. “I’m guessing that’s when me and Spike came in?”

“Not like you’d think,” Gruff replied pointedly. “Because they thought, like most everyone, that such hybridizing was impossible and thus couldn’t have any kids of their own. But they accepted that and didn’t worry about it.” He paused to take a deep breath. “So it was a shock when Gwen unexpectedly laid an egg that, against all odds, eventually hatched into their first child.”

He reached down to the family photo and tapped Gallus’s image on it.

Gallus’s breath abruptly caught in his throat, his beak working up and down repeatedly to say something but the words were jamming up within him. He slowly squeezed his eyes shut. “…so what happened then?” he asked, already having an idea.

Gruff’s gaze formed a dark scowl. “Something that never should’ve happened, never needed to happen,” he replied with a faint snarl, a glimmer of a barely controlled anger simmering in his eyes. “Like I said, some creatures opposed Spark and Gwen coming together from the start, but once word got around about them having a hybrid child…”

“Didn’t like the idea of them reproducing, huh?” Gallus mumbled darkly.

“They thought you a freak,” Gruff spat with unexpected venom, “Unnatural, that you’d somehow taint everything just by existing, that you were a monster that would threaten everyone if allowed to grow up.”

“They were probably thinking of hybrids like chimeras, bugbears, manticores—all very dangerous creatures,” Spike reasoned uneasily.

“They were being discriminatory against something they didn’t understand,” Ditzy corrected, her tone betraying a hidden anger too.

“And they had no reason to,” Gruff added. “Most of them hadn’t even seen Gallus, which is infuriating because just a passing glance would’ve been enough to see he was harmless, hybrid or not. Yet they were still determined to ensure he would never become the threat they imagined and that no one, let alone Gwen and Spark, would produce another.” He paused to growl to himself, one paw curling angrily into a fist. “Spark reported that dragons were starting to rally together, protesting Gallus’s existence and seeking to force him and Gwen from committing further abnormal deeds, as they called it. The griffons, meanwhile, were less in their faces about it, but some very nasty rumors still started floating around about what should be done about it. It eventually got to the point that Spark ceased visiting the Dragon Lands altogether, while Gwen started going into town less and less. Even I wasn’t immune to the ridicule, just because I often worked projects with Gwen.”

Spike’s snout wrinkled in distaste. “That’s terrible!”

Gruff snorted. “The worst part is this was just the precursors,” he rumbled, but now his anger was fading into sadness. “Gwen and Spark tried putting up with it for far longer than they ever should’ve had to, but it kept getting worse…” Gruff’s gaze wandered to meet Spike’s, “…especially once Gwen had her second egg, this one with clear draconic markings.”

Spike jolted upright at this, growing wide-eyed in realization. He knew only one creature could be inside that egg.

“Word about this second hybrid child pushed it all to a tipping point,” Gruff continued on. “Death threats were being made against the whole family. It got to the point that Spark felt the intervention of a higher power was necessary.” Gruff’s expression turned resolute. “I agreed. So I arranged to meet with the griffon lords on their behalf while Spark went to then-Dragon Lord Torch, hoping to get them all to at least do something. It wasn’t without risk, due to all the vehemence Spark faced from the other dragons, and the lords weren’t exactly being buddy-buddy with me either.”

“I’m guessing this all backfired then,” Ditzy prompted.

“Well, the lords were reluctant,” Gruff admitted, rubbing at his balding forehead in residual frustration, “fearing the public’s opinion more than mine. But I still got the lords to agree it was out of control and promise to work at keeping it in check. Torch, meanwhile, reasoned it was a private matter that the dragon lord shouldn’t be interfering in, for fear of the favoritism it’d show. But he did offer his protection and blessing for Spark to use the dragon egg-hatching grounds undisturbed, ensuring their second egg’s safety until it hatched. So, to exploit that offered safe haven, it was agreed Spark would take it to the Dragon Lands until it hatched, then he and Gwen planned to move the family somewhere else entirely, away from all the persecution. But in the meantime, this meant leaving Gwen and Gallus—about a fledgling by then—here and on their own. Gwen waved off any concerns though, assuring that everything would work out.” Gruff’s eyes visibly saddened here. “Oh, how I wish she’d been right.”

Gallus felt his stomach drop, filling with dread. “What happened?” he asked in a whisper.

“Did something happen at the egg-hatching grounds?” Spike asked, wringing his paws anxiously.

Gruff shook his head. “Spark never made it to the egg-hatching grounds,” he stated solemnly. “I was still at the Lord’s Manor when word reached me—something had happened in Griffonstone. I immediately sent notice to Spark, still on his way to the Dragon Lands, and he immediately turned around to come back while I tried to hurry here, both of us fearing the worst…but word hadn’t reached me until a day after already, and we were further delayed another day due to bad weather…so by then it was already much too late.” He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “A group of griffons, hired muscle rallied together in secret, had raided the house, catching Gwen by surprise. We figured she tried to escape with Gallus, but they caught her in Spark’s greenhouse out back, and…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “…the greenhouse was burnt to the ground…along with anyone who’d still been in it.”

He didn’t need to elaborate who. Feeling a little shell-shocked, Gallus slumped back, numbed by the implications. He saw Ditzy bow her head respectively out of the corner of his eye. “What about Gallus?” she asked after a moment.

Gruff just shrugged helplessly. “I genuinely don’t know.” He averted his gaze suddenly, as if ashamed. “Like I indicated before, we…thought he’d died with her.”

A heavy silence followed as everyone needed a moment to process that.

“Spark was rightly devastated,” Gruff continued on finally, almost on automatic. Clearly relating the tale was dredging up hard memories for him. “But he still had Spike’s egg, so it became his priority to ensure its safety. Since Griffonstone and the Dragon Lands clearly weren’t safe, he chose to petition Equestria for asylum there. The moment he got confirmation that Princess Celestia herself would hear his case, we made plans to get him and the egg there, no matter the cost. Certain that creatures would be lying in wait for him the moment he left Griffonstone, I rented a dinky old airship and deliberately got word around that he would be leaving with me in it. The idea was that I’d fly to Equestria on a fairly obvious path, serving as a decoy, while he took Spike’s egg and flew there separately on a more discreet path. That way, any attackers would target me and my airship and not Spark.”

“Good plan,” Ditzy murmured in approval.

“It was a good plan,” Gruff agreed, yet his face remained sullen. “But it didn’t work. I got most of the way to Equestria completely without incident before realizing something was wrong and doubled back to search for Spark. I found him a day later…or at least…what was left.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of his beak again but this time out of dismay. “It’d looked like a large horde of creatures had swarmed him suddenly, catching him unaware and stabbing him dozens of times before he went down.”

They were interrupted by Spike making a choked noise. Reflexively, Gallus pulled him close to try and comfort him, but it only weakened Spike’s composure further, proceeding to tear up into Gallus’s side for parents he never knew. 

“What about Spike’s egg?” Gallus asked numbly, willing himself to not break down also.

Gruff met Spike’s eye as he suddenly pulled his face away from Gallus’s side. “I searched for your egg everywhere,” he told Spike. “At the time, I thought maybe Spark had dropped it in the fight…but I found nothing.” He hung his head again, but this time in shame. “Ultimately, I assumed the attackers had taken it to smash somewhere and assure it never hatched. So…after burying what remained, there wasn’t really anything left I could do but…climb back aboard my airship and…move on.” He then harrumphed and his gaze turned into a glare he directed at Ditzy, “…at least until I learned more about what really happened that day.”

Ditzy gave Gruff a wary look. “I’m guessing this has to do with why you’re so reluctant to trust me,” she guessed.

Gruff nodded gravely. “I didn’t find out until years later,” he admitted. “After Gwen and Spark died, the whole thing seemed to have ended and everything went back to normal. I hated it, but it was too late to change it, so I tried to get back to normal life too. And I’d very nearly succeeded too.” His eyes narrowed in Ditzy’s direction again. “But then I happened to cross paths with one Ambassador Geoff.”

Ditzy’s own eyes narrowed distastefully. “Oh. Him.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gallus interjected here, waving one paw to get the attention of the two. “We’re not talking about that one crook of an ambassador from like a decade ago who was canned for snooping around, are we?”

“Try international espionage,” Ditzy clarified darkly. “I was still in basic training at the time, but when he got found out, word of it was everywhere. The guy was using his post to collect government secrets on both sides, including his own government, and then secretly sell them to the highest bidder.”

“Wait, that guy?” Spike asked in surprise, the recap suddenly cluing him in on where he’d heard the name before. His brow furrowed in confusion as he wiped his eyes and put his full attention back on the tale. “How the heck does he fit into all of this?”

“My thoughts exactly when he first came to me at my home, offering me information he figured I’d want,” Gruff explained with a huff, “For a hefty price, of course. Rumors about what he was doing were already starting to circulate and I figured he wouldn’t be willing to haggle the price anyway, so at first I didn’t want anything to do with whatever he thought he had to offer…until he name-dropped Spark.” Gruff reached up to pull off his fez, reaching inside of it. “And then, once he had my attention, he showed me this.”

He withdrew from a hidden pocket in the fez’s silken lining a folded up photograph, which he then spread out and tossed onto the photo album still on the table between them. Gallus, Spike, and Ditzy all leaned in to better see what the worn black-and-white photo portrayed, only to swiftly realize it was of absolutely nothing pleasant. Spike summed it up the best by making a noise somewhere between a horrified gasp and a gag.

It showed Spark, freshly killed, laying in a puddle of his own gore with a look of betrayed shock frozen on his face and a metal harpoon protruding grotesquely from his middle.

Gallus felt his beak drop as he realized what the photo was—proof of a successful assassination.

Ditzy, meanwhile, was focused on the murder weapon, eyes darting around as she rapidly took in all of the gory details. “That’s an airship’s harpoon,” she deduced through gritted teeth. She shot a look at Gruff. “You said he was mobbed and stabbed to—”

“Clearly that was done afterwards so to cover up how he really died,” Gruff interrupted harshly, before reaching out with one talon, “as well cover up who’d actually done it.” He tapped the photo’s bottom corner where it’d been stamped with an official timestamp and, chillingly, the seal of the Equestrian Royal Guard.

Gallus didn’t realize he had grabbed Ditzy with his paw or that his talons were digging into her shoulder until she let out a hiss. “…ow,” she said sarcastically.

Gallus didn’t let up his grip though, suddenly understanding where Gruff had been coming from. “Ditzy,” he growled dangerously, trying to keep the fury building within him from just bursting out, “Explain.”

“Gallus, I swear to you—swear to all of you,” Ditzy shot a look in Gruff’s direction, “that I knew nothing about this.” She swiftly motioned for all of them to stay silent when they started to object. “I get how this makes me look, but I was not involved, and whoever was involved was doing so behind the backs of everyone else.” She snatched up the photo with her hoof and held it up angrily. “I don’t know who was responsible for this…this atrocity, but the second I set hoof back in Equestria, I WILL be finding out, and when I get my hooves on those ponies,” she threw the photo down again, “heads WILL roll! Assuming Twilight Sparkle doesn’t beat me to it FIRST!”

It was clear she was just as enraged by this reveal as Gallus was, but nonetheless Gallus stared into her uneven eyes for a long moment to be sure. Only then did he release her shoulder. “Someone was responsible for this though,” he nonetheless growled. “I’d like to know who.”

“Join the club,” Ditzy replied before turning to Gruff. “Gruff, where did Geoff get this photo? How did he get this photo? Because I somehow doubt he was participating in this conspiracy, not if he was going around trying to sell details about it.”

“He claimed he’d stumbled across it when last in Equestria, while going through some paperwork as per his duties,” Gruff replied skeptically, folding his forelegs, “but I had my doubts about that. More likely he’d been digging into things he shouldn’t have while no one was looking. However he got it though, he claimed he knew where more information lay. He tried to extort a huge amount of bits from me in exchange for the rest, but I managed to…coerce…him into cooperating for free.” Gallus could just picture Gruff pinning the swindling griffon to a wall and yelling in his face over it. “However, he didn’t actually have the material—he had to go back to Equestria to get it first.”

“…and?” Ditzy prompted.

“…and nothing,” Gruff replied curtly. “That was the last time I saw him. He was arrested before he could make good on the deal.”

Ditzy let out a frustrated growl at that, wrapping her hooves over her head.

“But what’s the problem?” Spike asked, not understanding. “If he’s just sitting in a prison somewhere, can’t we just go and ask him if—?”

“We can’t,” Ditzy interrupted crossly. “Only about four months after he was arrested, Geoff was found dead in his jail cell.” She ran her hooves down her face. “The coroner at the time determined he died naturally from heart failure, but…”

“He was almost certainly killed so to silence him,” Gruff concluded with a nod, following Ditzy’s line of thought. “So from that point on, I’ve been trying to unbury all this on my own.”

“…and?” Ditzy inquired hopefully.

“Well, Spark had mentioned a dragon named Rhyolite as being a ringleader of the protesting dragons, so I figured he was likely involved. And after finding that members of the Royal Guard were involved, I swiftly started suspecting Dr. Gene Type of being one of them due to him often being in the right place at the right times for it. I already suspected Garrett was in on it, so I kept an eye on him, but I’ll have you all know it hasn’t been easy. I’ve long thought Garrett was catching onto me, so I’ve been trying to keep him off my own tail too.” Gruff then suddenly flung his paw at Gallus. “And then you had to turn up at that stand of Gilda’s, impossibly alive and completely ignorant of the danger you were in if anybody else found out!”

“Danger?” Gallus repeated, before his eyes went wide in revelation. “Is that why you sent me away to the school, why you acted so…ambivalent…towards my existence?”

Gruff hesitated then let out a weary sigh. “Yes,” he relented. “That pony princess of yours was so big on the whole friendship between creatures thing, I hoped at the time that meant you’d be safe and out of harm’s way there, more than you could’ve been in Griffonstone, and away from me, who was close enough to the whole shebang I worried someone would notice you hanging around me I didn’t want to. Besides,” his gaze wandered off of Gallus and onto Spike, “I figured you should be closer to him.”

Now Spike’s eyes bulged. “You mean you knew about me too?” he asked, motioning to himself.

“I suspected,” Gruff corrected swiftly. “I had only ever seen you as an egg, so I couldn’t know for certain you were who I thought until that settled the matter for me.” He motioned to the bloodline stone where it’d been left on the table before them. He then pinched his beak with his talons. “But then you both had to go and get yourselves in the headlines! You realize that’s probably how they found out and put us in this mess, right? Because it was from that point on that I started catching wind of renewed activity from them, realizing they were plotting to strike again and soon.”

Gallus frowned. “And that’s when you started nagging me to leave the school and come back to Griffonstone,” he deduced, it all starting to come together in his head.

“By then it’d be better to have you where I could keep an eye on you,” Gruff stressed, staring Gallus down. “I didn’t want history to repeat itself. I needed you where I could keep you safe!”

“NO!” Gallus suddenly snapped, slamming a fist into the table. “If that was what you wanted, you shouldn’t have sent me there in the first place! Because there I found friends and a better life that I never had here! I was happy, more than I had ever been before! And I wasn’t about to let you strip that ALL away from me just because you couldn’t be bothered to tell me the TRUTH, you—!”

He had to cut himself short there, squeezing his eyes shut so to try and hold back the tears now threatening to burst forth, his body shuddering from the effort. A heavy silence fell upon the group as nobody dared to speak. Then, as if using some sixth sense, Ditzy gently took Spike and urged him to follow her out of the room, leaving Gallus and Gruff alone for a moment—she understood this was something the two needed to work out on their own. Once they had departed into the next room though, neither of them spoke for another long moment. Gruff merely stood there sullen and resolute, apparently waiting for Gallus to make the first move. Gallus meanwhile stared him down with angry and misty eyes.

“You should’ve told me,” he finally managed to murmur to the older griffon.

“And for what?” Gruff challenged back. “It would have only drawn you closer into the matter, put you in more danger, and weighed you down with a tragedy you couldn’t change. What good would it have done you in the end?”

“You don’t understand!” Gallus hissed. “You haven’t spent your life alone, living on the streets, with no one but yourself to look after you, to keep you company when alone, to comfort you when it’s cold and dark, to help you stay fed and healthy, and…and…” suddenly his anger was consumed by a deep sadness. “…do you realize how many years I’ve wondered what happened to my family and where they were? Were they even still out there? Did they even still care about me? Do you know how much I’ve ached to have that again in the thick of a Griffonstone winter with nothing but a tattered blanket, a moldy cardboard box, and a pawful of scraps to eat, only to get…nothing? Do you know what that was like? Do you? Do you?” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. “Gruff…I needed to know. I deserved to know. But you…you…”

He hung his head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. He spent a few moments shuddering his way through the sobs while Gruff looked on, attempting to stay straight-faced. He found himself gazing down at the open photo album and at the picture of his long-lost parents grinning back up at him. He suddenly wanted so badly to actually remember something meaningful of them now…but the memories remained frustratingly close and yet somehow still entirely out of reach.

The frustration must’ve showed on his face. “You really remember nothing about them?” Gruff asked, sounding almost hurt. “Nothing at all?”

Gallus gazed pleadingly at the photo, hoping it’d spur something out from the depths of his mind. “…no.” he admitted sadly.

“But there must be something,” Gruff pressed, unwilling to give up. “If not of them physically, then of something they did, like…” He trailed off for a moment. Gallus took it to mean he’d run out of straws to grasp for.

So he was shocked when instead Gruff abruptly started singing in a soft voice. “The moon has risen, the little golden stars shine in the heavens so clear and bright, the woods stand dark and still, and out of the meadows rise a wonderful fog…”

Gallus ripped his eyes off of the photo to look at the older griffon. Out of nowhere, the next words came spilling out his beak unbidden. “…how the world stands still in twilight’s veil, so sweet and snug as a still room, where the day’s misery you will sleep off and forget…” Chills ran through him with every spot-on note and lyric sung while gaping at Gruff. “How…how…?” he breathed, stunned at the suddenness of the song coming to him.

“Gallus, I heard your mother sing you that lullaby many times, often when trying to calm you down,” Gruff responded back with startling gentleness. “It had always been a favorite of hers.”

Gallus felt his heart pounding in his chest again as he looked back at the photo, focusing on the griffoness and dragon. The words to the lullaby were still playing in his head with crystal clear accuracy, but now in a surreally familiar female voice, singing gently…lovingly…holding him close in a tender cradle. A warm sensation filled Gallus’s chest, making him feel like he was a mere mewling fledgling again, and he longed for that cradling sensation now. Instead, he settled to sit himself on the floor and wrap himself in his arms and wings, shuddering at the suddenness, but certainly not unwelcome, of the memory unlocking.

Gruff used that chance to get back on topic. “Gallus, I won’t pretend the right choices were made throughout any of this,” he admitted. “Nor will I pretend you and Spike weren’t dealt terrible hands. But…keeping you out of it…I was just trying to protect you.”

Gallus thought about that for a long moment. “I’m just not sure that was good enough, Gruff,” he admitted truthfully.

Gruff went silent for a long moment, before bowing his head. He picked up the incriminating photo of the murdered Spark and folded it up, hiding away its grisly visage once more. “I’m sorry then,” was all he had to say in response.

He then turned and exited the room too, leaving Gallus alone to ponder it all.
> Sacrifice
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As night continued to fall outside, they all settled inside the underused home to wait for the airship coming to get them. Ditzy took the chance to finally break open the box of Night Guard rations and passed them out to everybody to eat, revealing them to be prepackaged nutrient bars. Though a welcomed distraction that took Gallus’s mind off of things for a moment, and he didn’t doubt her claims that they were nourishing and full of nutrients, he still found the bars stiff and difficult to bite into swallowable sizes, something that wasn’t helped by him having a toothless beak. And even then, once fully eaten, the chewed bars sat heavily in his belly, so much so that he couldn’t imagine what lengths his poor stomach and gizzard would have to go to so to turn the dense ball into something useable.

Still, food of any sort was very welcomed for Gallus, starting to run on empty, so he ate it without protest anyway.

“You know, it’s probably going to be awhile still before our ride tracks my transponder to here,” Ditzy commented aloud to him after the rations were eaten. “So you might as well take the time to try and get some shut eye while we wait.”

Gallus snorted, amused. “As much as I’d like to, Ditzy, my brain’s still whirling around too much to try.”

Ditzy eyed him for a second then sat down beside him, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “How are you taking all this anyway?” she asked gently.

“I genuinely don’t know,” Gallus admitted but wishing he did. He held out his paws helplessly. “On one side, I finally feel like I have most of the puzzle pieces, but on the other…” he trailed off.

“…you’re not sure you like the picture it forms,” Ditzy finished for him, nodding her head in understanding. “I wish there was something I could do to make it better, but unfortunately I can’t change what happened.”

“Yeah,” Gallus said with a sigh, “that’s what stinks the most about this.”

Ditzy breathed a sigh herself. “If you want to talk about it…”

“Thanks, but…” Gallus hesitated, pondering how to phrase it. “…I need to think this through by myself.” He gazed around at his surroundings for a moment. He was still sitting in the living room having never left after Gruff had, and realized there was someone he hadn’t seen in a little bit. “Where did Spike go?”

“He should be exploring upstairs,” Ditzy replied. She gave him a weak grin. “He needed something to do too.”

“Or just some place to be alone for a bit,” Gallus mumbled to himself. Nevertheless, he decided to stand up, stretching his legs. “I’m going to go find him.”

Ditzy didn’t object and let him go, despite there being ample reason to think Spike might want to be left to himself. Maybe she knew something he didn’t—Gallus wasn’t totally sure with that mare anymore. Whatever the case, he idly wandered upstairs. The upper floor of the house wasn’t anything special, and all said, only contained a lonely hallway connecting to four rooms—two bedrooms, a small bathroom, and a hall closet. Though like everything else in the house, everything these rooms contained had been packed up for storage.

Figuring out which room Spike had entered wasn’t hard, as it was the only one of the rooms with its door left open, leading into the bedroom that faced the rear of the house. Peeking inside revealed Spike seated on the floor, having opened a couple of the storage boxes and listlessly sifting through their contents. As Gallus strolled up to him, he saw the little dragon had uncovered and was gazing forlornly at a framed family photo, one he couldn’t recall seeing in the photo album. It pictured Spark, Gwen, and his younger self all posing around Spike’s egg, probably not long after it’d been laid. With a jolt, Gallus realized the picture had to have been taken not long before everything turned for the worst, shattering the little family.

Not that you could tell though—everyone pictured seemed quite happy at the time, but that only made it all the more bittersweet to realize. It also made Gallus worry about Spike, watching the dragon take in the picture and look unusually subdued. Except for Gallus’s younger image, there was little recognition in Spike’s eyes for the creatures it portrayed—Gallus realized he didn’t know them like he must have, and the thought suddenly saddened him. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped a wing around the little dragon in a show of comfort, which Spike silently accepted without objection.

“Can you really miss someone you never knew?” he asked Gallus after a moment.

Gallus didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’m sure, wherever they are now in the grand scheme of things, they miss you,” he said instead, though it felt like a pretty empty platitude once he heard it aloud.

Spike merely hummed to himself and didn’t remark on it. “At least you had the chance to know them,” he noted after another pause.

Gallus frowned, gazing at the picture for a moment. “Not that I really remember any of it.”

“Honestly…I’m not sure whether to envy you or to pity you for that,” Spike mumbled.

The miserable thought chilled Gallus somewhat, so he opted to change the subject. “You know, you probably should’ve asked before going through another creature’s things,” he remarked in a mildly teasing tone, showing he wasn’t holding it against him.

“Fair point,” Spike relented, unfazed, setting the picture down before looking up at Gallus. “Can I?”

Gallus smirked. “What are you asking me for?”

“Because I’m pretty sure these were supposed to be your things.” And for emphasis, he slid the box closer so Gallus could see too.

Surprised by the implication, Gallus couldn’t help peering into the box and immediately note Spike had a point—all of the items within were mostly for a youth around the age he had been at the time, namely in the form of toys. They were all fairly routine things, like building blocks, a wooden top, a miniature carriage, and even one of those things where you stacked rings on top of each other. But as Gallus reached into the box and pulled out a couple to examine, he found that, like everything else in this house, he didn’t feel like he recognized any of them yet still got a surreal sense of attachment like he should. There wasn’t really any reason to doubt Spike about them having been his though, particularly when he had to chuckle a little at a rubber ball that’d been gnawed on by a little beak that could’ve only been his.

Returning them all to the box, he stopped to gaze around the room in more detail, taking it in. Most of it was just boxes or emptied shelves, but to one side he noticed the parts of a disassembled crib propped up against the wall and wandered over to it. Was this my room? He thought to himself, popping open another box full of linens that sat next to the crib. He ran his talons over a soft baby blanket neatly folded on the top. Had I once snuggled to sleep with this blanket? He found himself reverently pulling it out and wrapping his forelegs around it. Pressing it into his chest, he buried his beak into it, breathing in its scent. Even after all this time, he could still make out a friendly smell on it that tickled his synapses with familiarity.

Feeling overwhelmed, he stopped and forced himself to return the blanket to its box. “This is weird,” he muttered as he closed it up again.

“I’ll bet,” Spike agreed from where he’d been watching Gallus. “If I’m feeling weirded out by it all, I can’t even picture how you must be feeling.”

Yet another thing Gallus couldn’t begin to know how to respond to, so he didn’t. He instead continued wandering around, taking in the room and trying to understand how it was making him feel. When that started to overwhelm his senses and feeling another emotional breakdown forming, he swiftly turned his attention to the window and focused on what was outside, in hopes of distracting his mind. Instead, he laid eye on something far more significant out in the backyard that he should’ve known would be there, but nonetheless nearly made his heart leap up his throat and out his mouth at the sight of it.

He immediately spun around and started for the door. “Hey, if you need anything, just shout for Ditzy, ’kay?” he told Spike, who had begun sifting through boxes again.

Spike glanced up at him with a frown, probably sensing something wrong. “Where are you going?” he asked.

Gallus ruffled his spines as he passed. “Don’t you worry about that,” he assured him with a forced grin and continued on his way, hoping Spike wouldn’t follow.

He didn’t. Good, because facing this is probably the last thing he needs right now, Gallus thought to himself. He, meanwhile, didn’t stop until he had slipped out the house’s backdoor and taken a few steps out into the yard. There, he sat down and simply stared with a solemn gaze.

He’d found Spark’s greenhouse. Or rather, what was left of it.

Its stone foundation was still there, neatly framing the area and still blackened with soot. Weeds and other wild growth had attempted to grow and consume the scorched land, but even after more than a decade to try, it’d made shoddy progress at doing so. Fragments of burnt wood still littered the area, the remains of the greenhouse’s wooden frame and probably tables or other shelves it’d once contained, but fire and age had caused it all to degrade enough it would be impossible to determine exactly where each crumbling piece had gone.

But most important of all, placed in the center of it all, was a grave. It was marked by a slab of flat stone used as a makeshift headstone. Etched haphazardly but caringly into it were the following names:

GWEN
+
GALLUS

And Gallus could just sit there and look on at the surreal sight, the significance of it all hitting him like a ton of bricks. He remained like that in silence for a long time—he wasn’t sure how long. He kept feeling like he should say something, but couldn’t begin to figure out what or how. And it felt like he was somehow intruding anyway. So he just kept sitting there in reverent silence at what felt like a respectable distance from the grave.

“I figured you’d eventually find your way out here, boy.”

Gallus twisted around to find Gruff standing on the back porch, watching him. A part of him was annoyed the older griffon was here, but he didn’t have any fight left to protest. So he simply just huffed and turned his attention back to the grave. He didn’t object when Gruff slowly stepped over and joined him, sitting down beside him. They sat there quietly for a moment.

“Look, I know you hate how I handled this,” Gruff finally started to speak without warning. “And I know you hated the life on the streets you wound up in. But it was still a life you had made your own, and you were still…content enough. You’d moved on, in other words. I didn’t think you needed me dragging you back into things long past that neither of us could change anyway, to be weighed down by the misery of knowing what was lost.” He sighed. “But I never stopped to think that meant you were being weighed down far more by not knowing instead.”

“You could’ve at least acted like you cared then,” Gallus pointed out grumpily.

Gruff averted his gaze. “I was a stranger to you though. And I thought if I was too…chummy…with you, you or others might suspect something, start prying into things I wanted you kept out of.”

“So you acted like a jerk to me, to keep me at wing’s length,” Gallus concluded coldly, “Turning you into an actual jerk when I found out anyway.”

Gruff scowled. “You know, you didn’t always help yourself,” he stressed. “There were times I was ripping my own feathers out because you’d gone and made a scene or taken huge risks for yourself over nothing.” He closed his eyes. “I’ll admit, I was about fed up with your antics, ready to just leave you to fate…but then I found out what these cretins were planning to do to you, and…” he trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid but nevertheless clear.

Gallus bowed his head in sorrow. “I know you had good intentions for doing what you did, Gruff,” he relented. “But even now that I understand why, it sure as heck didn’t feel like it to me.”

“…I know,” Gruff agreed, his voice heavy. “I suppose you deserve better than an old coot like me anyway.” He averted his gaze. “I was never good at this sort of thing.”

The statement was self-depraving, but Gallus bitterly found he couldn’t bring himself to object. So another round of silence fell upon the pair, continuing to take in the headstone.

“Can’t say I’ve ever visited my own grave before,” Gallus remarked sarcastically after a moment.

Gruff snorted. “We genuinely thought you’d perished with her,” he explained. “So much so, we never really considered otherwise.” He bowed his head. “Now I wish we had, of course.”

Gallus shook his head. “You know, I don’t understand…how did I escape it?”

“Unfortunately, you would know better than I would,” Gruff admitted sadly, “since I was the one who wasn’t there to see it happen.”

“I don’t remember it at all, though.” Gallus bit his tongue, suddenly feeling shame. “I think…I think I may have blocked it out.”

“Can’t say I blame you—the trauma of it all must’ve been horrible to deal with.”

But Gallus found himself wanting to know anyway. “What happened that night, Gruff?”

“I already told you.”

“Not in detail.”

Gruff turned his head so to see him better with his good eye. “You don’t want to know about that.”

Gallus glanced back at him resolutely. “Tell me anyway.”

Gruff was silent for a moment. “All evidence suggests Gwen was in the middle of putting you in bed when they came bursting into the home,” he began finally with a heavy sigh. “We figured there were up to five or so of them in total. It’d been raining off and on that whole week, so it being stormy and overcast that night gave them ample cover to sneak up to the house undetected with. Since the house isn’t that big, it didn’t take them long to hunt you two down. Gwen seemed to have put up quite a fight, even managed to take out one of them and got the others briefly trapped in a room…but she was outnumbered, and at some point they’d injured her good—she’d left a trail of blood leading out of the house towards here.”

Gruff looked to the remains of the greenhouse. “She had grabbed her cloak, a saddlebag, and of course you and your carrier pouch strapped to her back. Spark grew some fruit and vegetables in the greenhouse, so she had almost certainly gone inside to quickly grab what supplies she could then escape. But the surviving attackers caught up to her here. And injured as she already was…” Gruff bowed his head. “…she probably didn’t last long. And once they had her down, they set fire to the greenhouse, both to finish the job and probably to cover their tracks.”

He motioned at the remains with one paw. “As you can see for yourself, it burned to the ground.” His gaze turned far away, reliving the memories. “Like I said before, Spark and I didn’t get here until two days later. It was pouring rain when we did, which only made it all seem worse, not just because the rain washed away some of the details but also for how gloomy it made everything.” He fell silent for another moment. “I was the first one to find her. But I couldn’t bring myself to shout for Spark, knowing how he’d take it, so I just sort of stood there helplessly until Spark saw me and came to see for himself.”

Gruff licked the sides of his beak uncomfortably. “He’d…he’d just sort of stood there too shocked to move for a moment. Then he shooed me away and proceeded to dig a grave, bury her, and make that gravestone all on his own. He didn’t stop once until he’d finished, stone-faced all the way through. But once he had, he dropped to his knees…and he just wept. For hours.” He closed his eyes, as if pained. “I’d never seen a creature look so broken like he had then.”

A heavy silence fell for a moment between them. Gallus stared at the grave, envisioning the tragic sight in his head.

“Did he regret leaving them—us—here?” he asked after a moment, needing to know.

Gruff hesitated, conflicted. “He never said.”

But Gallus wondered if Spark even really needed to by that point.

“It was only after he’d cried himself out that we made the plan to get to Equestria and meet with Princess Celestia,” Gruff then continued, almost like an afterthought. His gaze turned distant. “But obviously we never made that meeting…I’ve wondered sometimes what the princess must’ve thought about that…” He shook his head. “Anyway…after seeing Spark like that and what followed, I’ve felt obligated to keep coming up here ever since to make sure nobody’s broken in or anything bad happened to the house…I suppose because I felt I owed it to them. Of course, I’d asked myself sometimes why it mattered, considering nobody was coming back for it…but I’m glad I did anyway.”

Gallus chose not to admit it aloud…but he was glad Gruff had done so too. It just…felt right.

Meanwhile, Gruff gazed at the grave sadly for a long moment. “You know what probably bothers me the most about all of this?” he asked, looking at Gallus again, “…they both died probably thinking you were already gone too…when you weren’t really. And I just wish…they at least had that small comfort when…” he trailed off. He didn’t need to finish anyway.

Gallus turned this all over in his head, not sure if he really felt any better or worse now that Gruff had told him it. “What were they like?” he asked suddenly after a moment.

“Spark and Gwen?” Gruff considered how to respond. “Well, Spark was something of a gentle giant, I suppose. He looked big and tough, but he was usually more curious and preferring to avoid a fight.” He made a soft chuckle. “That said, he was still dragon enough that, if you ticked him off, he’d still swing a punch at you.” He ran a paw over one side of his face as if feeling the ghost of a pain there. “Something I had to learn the hard way.”

Gallus’s eyebrows shot up. “He punched you?”

“In his defense, I deserved it,” Gruff admitted. “I’d insinuated he didn’t deserve Gwen not long after they’d hooked up. But that was also around when I figured out I was wrong.” He made a small smile. “He was almost always by her side, so eager to help her with anything she needed from him that it was obvious he loved her dearly…and she loved him just as much too.” He shook his head and got back on topic. “As for Gwen, well, she was a lot like you, really. Proud and stubborn to a fault, but also intelligent and…with a heart of gold.”

Gallus needed another moment to mull that over. On one side, he felt pleased hearing they were both such good creatures and somewhat flattered to be compared so favorably to Gwen by Gruff, but it also made his eyes water for the lost creatures. “I wish I could meet them,” he mumbled aloud.

“I’m sure they would too, boy,” Gruff replied, “and I wish you could remember more about them because they cared for you deeply. Gwen often called you two her little miracles.” He inhaled sharply. “They’d be delighted to know you and Spike both survived.”

Gallus frowned at that though. “Yeah, but I still don’t understand that,” he admitted to Gruff. “How did I survive that night? And why did both you and the attackers think I hadn’t? Shouldn’t it have been obvious that I wasn’t there?”

“The carrier pouch was hooded, so I figure the attackers noted something was in there and just assumed it was you. Given the circumstances, they probably figured that was a safe bet. Honestly, it should’ve been. And as for me and Spark…” Gruff shifted uncomfortably. “Gallus, Gwen’s remains had all but burned to a crisp, including the carrier pouch you were supposed to be in,” he explained coldly. “We were lucky to even be able to identify her from what remained, so even though we already had no reason to assume the charred remains in the carrier weren’t you, it would’ve been difficult to tell anyway without…without unpleasant examinations neither of us wished to do. It’d seemed…disrespectful…at the time.”

Gallus’s brow furrowed. “But there were remains in the carrier?” he repeated to confirm, before turning confused once Gruff nodded. “But if it wasn’t actually me, then…whose remains was it?”

Gruff opened his beak to reply, but then shut it again, as if realizing the problem for the first time. “I don’t know,” was all he could say. He mulled it over for a second longer. Gallus got the impression it was really the first time Gruff had put much thought into it. Finally, he shrugged. “Well…I remember Spark complaining once about how critters kept trying to sneak into the greenhouse, so…maybe it was one of them?”

That only further confused Gallus. “But then why was it in the carrier?” he challenged, shooting down that theory. “Wouldn’t it try to escape the fire instead?”

“Not unless it was already dead.”

“That still doesn’t explain why it was there or where I was.”

“I suppose you managed to slip away before the flames reached you.” Gruff shrugged again. “Does it really matter in the end if you survived anyway?”

Gallus nodded. “It matters to me,” he assured and continued to turn the problem over in his head. He finally pulled his attention off of the gravestone so to give the surviving foundation of the greenhouse another pass with his eyes. It didn’t quite form a complete square, as there was an opening in its front to accommodate what had once been a doorway. But looking past the gravestone, he suddenly realized for the first time that a similar gap was in the back of the foundation too, suggesting the greenhouse also had a back door. He lifted his gaze to take in the rest of the dark backyard and suddenly felt that sickening feeling of déjà vu for something his mind didn’t want to remember.

Gallus latched onto it like a lifeline though, feeling it held the key. “Gruff,” he began slowly, nudging the other griffon, “was there anything else to this backyard?”

Gruff glanced around the weed-filled lot of land. “After the greenhouse, nothing too important,” he admitted. “There wasn’t much need out here.”

Gallus still wasn’t convinced of that and scanned the yard for more mental nudges. He got one that gave him a sense of dread upon spotting a gap between a pair of trees leading up a small hill. With a start, he realized what it was. “Wasn’t there still a path leading to something up that hill?” he asked, starting to step around the grave and heading towards it.

Gruff watched him, confused. “I suppose there was,” he admitted, “but I don’t see how it fits into this. All it leads to is a couple things Gwen and Spark used to temporarily store their catches, like a small game locker.” He grumpily started to chase after Gallus as the younger griffon began up the grown-over path anyway. “Nobody’s been up there in years, boy!”

But Gallus went anyway, because something about the path was drudging up a sense of dread, fear, and misery deep within him, and despite his mind wanting absolutely nothing more than to stay as far away from it as it could, he pushed himself towards it, recognizing that there was a reason it made him feel like that. “Did those attackers ever make it up here?” he asked as they reached the crest of the small hill. There it opened up into another much smaller clearing, this one naturally formed.

“I doubt it,” Gruff replied, thoroughly confused as to where he was going with all of this. “What they were looking for was never up here.”

But Gallus was surveying the clearing slowly, heart thumping in fear. It was actually a totally innocent looking clearing, the only obvious decoration being the abandoned and deteriorating box-like game locker Gruff had mentioned, but he found himself absolutely hating everything about the space nonetheless, even more being in it. A nagging thought in his mind told him he’d seen something like this clearing plenty of times in half-remembered nightmares…but instinct told him it ran deeper than that. Focusing on the game locker then, he started towards it.

Gruff scoffed at him doing so. “Don’t bother,” he advised as Gallus went to pull open its door. “Anything left in there would have rotted away ages ago.”

Peeking inside, Gallus found Gruff was absolutely right. All that remained was the rotted skeletons of caught prey littering most of the locker due to the negligence it’d been left in since the death of its owners. Looking into the locker still stirred something within him though, and he started to turn around when he caught sight of the inside of the locker door.

“Gruff,” he called, prompting the griffon closer while holding the door open so he could see too. Gruff remained skeptical until he saw what Gallus was looking at, his eyes widening.

It was faded and browned, but the bloodied paw print left from holding the door open long ago was still plainly visible. It clearly had belonged to an adult griffon, with the slender shape of the talons suggesting a female.

Gruff inhaled sharply as he realized who it must’ve belonged to. “No,” he breathed, trying to understand. “But…why would she have gone up here, just to double back?”

Gallus looked back at the decayed catches in the locker, all medium-sized woodland creatures. Most of them had been hung from hooks dangling from the ceiling. But while not all of the hooks were in use when it was abandoned, particularly those in the back, Gallus couldn’t help but notice the left front most hook was conspicuously clean and empty. “Gruff, didn’t you say there were raccoons for hunting out here?”

“Yeah, woods are lousy with ‘em,” Gruff confirmed. He motioned to the remains in the locker. “Gwen and Spark were trapping them all the time.”

Gallus turned to face him urgently. “Wouldn’t an adult raccoon be roughly the same size as a griffon fledgling?”

If it was possible, Gruff’s eyes widened even more as he understood. “It was a decoy!” he breathed in awe. “She used one of the ’coons to trick those griffons into thinking it was you in the carrier pouch!” Then his brow immediately furrowed. “But then…where were you?”

Gallus was already in the middle of surveying the rest of the clearing, suspecting the answer was here. “What else was in this clearing besides the game locker?” he asked as he surveyed it.

“Ah…I think there was a hanging line they used for drying out caught fish,” Gruff replied, joining him. He pointed uncertainly in the direction he thought it’d been, but there was nothing there now. “Probably got blown over in a storm at some point.”

“Or pulled down by a hungry creature,” Gallus suggested knowingly, moving in the direction Gruff had pointed.

He’d only gone a couple of paces before he found one of the fallen wooden supports hidden in the tall grasses, old and splintery. On instinct, he looked from there towards the edge of the clearing where he spied an old barrel laying on its side. A wave of claustrophobia suddenly hit him at the sight of it, contradictorily mixed in with a sense of safety. Approaching it solemnly, Gallus found the barrel had collapsed in on itself at some point over the years, but it was nonetheless familiar…just not in a good way. The hidden memories attached to this barrel weren’t happy ones but ones of desperation, lacking anything better. Dropping lower to the ground, he looked around the outside of it until he found, partly buried in the ground, the bones from a long-gone fish. Just a casual examination showed the meat had been gnawed off by a young, unpracticed, beak. Heart beating, Gallus then turned his attention to the barrel itself, pulling free some of the collapsed pieces so to peer inside better. He didn’t know what he was looking for until he spied it, perfectly preserved in long-dry mud—the solitary footprint of the fledgling griffon who had hidden within.

He showed Gruff, who was only growing more shocked by the moment. “You were here,” he gasped, stunned. “That whole time, you were right here!”

“Gruff, she didn’t die trying to escape,” Gallus said, the pieces all falling into place in his mind. “She died making sure I lived.” His gaze turned distant, somehow both chilled and warmed as he realized just what it was Gwen had done. “She sacrificed herself…for me.” He numbly concluded she must’ve resorted to it in desperation, lacking the time to come up with anything better. He could only imagine how much she must’ve been praying that things would somehow work out from there once she’d ensured Gallus’s immediate safety.

“But why?” Gruff cried, trying to understand. “If she had gotten this far away from the house, why not just keep going into the woods instead of doubling back?”

“Because she was already injured,” Gallus breathed, picturing what must have been going through Gwen’s head in that moment of desperation. “She couldn’t outrun them…and they wouldn’t stop trying until they had what they were after.” He hung his head. “She knew she couldn’t escape. But I still could…if she could just get them off my trail.”

Gruff, on the verge of becoming hysterical, gripped the sides of his head with his talons. “But Spark and I didn’t get here until two days later!” he gasped, hyperventilating. “All the food left here would’ve spoiled by then! So when it ultimately did…”

“…I went somewhere I knew I could find more,” Gallus concluded.

Together, their gazes slowly turned to look at Griffonstone, just barely visible past the forest encircling them.

Gallus noticed the look of horror on Gruff’s face as these realizations all sank in. “Gruff, you couldn’t have known.”

“I should have!” he snapped back, unforgiving.

But Gallus couldn’t help but look at it logically. “Gruff, it was everyone thinking I was dead and not looking for me that probably kept me alive this whole time. That’s why she did it!”

“But you deserved BETTER!” Gruff shouted at him before the fight wheezed out of him like a balloon. “You all did,” he despaired.

The outburst stunned Gallus into silence though, forcing him to realize something he’d been trying not to throughout all of this—Gruff actually cared. Feeling ashamed he’d doubted that now, Gallus averted his gaze. “…I’m sorry then,” he mumbled in a croak.

Gruff heaved a great sigh. “So am I, boy, so am I.” he fidgeted uncomfortably to himself for a long moment after that, trying to regain his composure. “Look…we’d better get back to the house,” he prompted finally. “That guard mare’s probably wondering what happened to us.”

Without waiting to see if Gallus would follow, he turned to leave. Gallus paused long enough to gaze at the lonely little footprint frozen in time inside the barrel, sensing the echoes of what he must’ve felt so long ago as the lost and alone little fledgling with nowhere else to go.

“Yeah,” he finally said more to himself than to Gruff, recovering the footprint before reluctantly turning himself away. “We’d better do that.”





Gruff proved to be right about Ditzy and she wasn’t especially pleased they’d slipped away from the house without telling her like that. Which Gruff was quick to razz her for, reminding her she was supposed to prevent such things, but as Ditzy gave him an almost murderous look for that insult to her capabilities, Gallus quickly intervened by taking the blame for it, since wandering out there had been his idea in the first place—Gruff had just followed to…keep him company. He then summarized in brief what they had deduced out there. Ditzy gave her deepest condolences but was forced to point out that this new knowledge still didn’t change their current circumstances much.

And sadly she was right. Ultimately, the end outcomes hadn’t changed, and for the moment that was a bit more important, considering not only lives were still potentially on the line but others had already died over it too. Further, even though Gallus took comfort in that he had a better understanding of what had happened and why, it was still extremely saddening, considering the sacrifice it’d taken to do it. It in fact chilled Gallus somewhat to think about, that Gwen had been so willing to give herself up so to save him. He caught himself wondering, like Gruff, why.

The answer remained obvious: as her son, she’d just loved him that much. But that was an unfamiliar idea for Gallus. And perhaps that was why it was so bittersweet for him.

In any case, he was done exploring and just wanted to sit and…process. When he wandered back into the living room in search of someplace to do so, he found Spike had come back downstairs and was now huddled in front of the still-burning fireplace. He looked up at Gallus when the griffon entered and a moment of silent understanding was exchanged between them before Spike gently patted the floor beside him. Gallus happily took the invitation and sat down beside him, proceeding to stare into the flames and letting his tired mind drift.

They said nothing. Gallus thought that he should probably tell Spike what he’d deduced out in the backyard, but…he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The fact Spike eventually leaned his head on Gallus’s side, trying not to doze off, didn’t help. He seemed so innocent, so youthful, so at ease currently that Gallus hated to spoil it. So instead he considered how much he had bonded with the dragon. He supposed that was to be expected after everything they’d been through, but he knew they now had ample reason to bond like this anyway.

He’s my brother, Gallus reminded himself. I have a brother.

That noble thought led him to reach out and pull Spike closer to him, wrapping a wing around him. It seemed right, after all.

Eventually, Spike lost the battle and dozed off against Gallus’s side. He let him be, figuring he needed it. In fact, Gallus could feel sleep slowly trying to creep up on him too, and the warmth of the fire only made it seem all the more desirable. But like Spike had, he worked to try and fight it off. This became harder and harder to do as it grew ever later into the night, and he probably would’ve eventually lost like Spike if Ditzy hadn’t interrupted by urgently strolling into the room and over to the front window.

Sensing something was up, Gallus straightened and forced the tiredness from his eyes with a series of heavy blinks. “…Ditzy?” he prompted.

“There’s an airship approaching,” she explained simply, focusing her attention out the window at something in the black sky.

And now that she’d said it, Gallus suddenly realized he could hear the dull roar of said airship’s engines growing closer. He got up, nudging Spike awake in the process, and they both joined Ditzy at the window, searching for the craft.

“There,” Ditzy finally prompted, pointing with her hoof at the dark shape before squinting at the airship again—it seemed to be approaching their location hesitantly. “It looks to me like a dropship.”

Gallus squinted his eyes at it, the dim lighting making it hard to discern. “How can you tell?” he asked.

Ditzy tapped a hoof on her eyepatch. “Magicked to improve my eyesight, remember?” she reminded.

“Is it the airship Twilight sent for us?” Spike prompted, before adding, “Please say it is this time.”

“I’m not sure, and the fact we don’t have a radio doesn’t help.” Ditzy debated her options for a moment. “But there’s still a way I can check.” She reached into her brown jacket and pulled out a small flashlight Gallus assumed she must’ve had on her this whole time. She then proceeded to blink it on and off through the window at the approaching craft. There was a regular pattern to it, so Gallus assumed it was some sort of code.

“What’s everybody doing in here?” Gruff interjected suddenly as he now joined them in the room.

“Shush,” Gallus hushed him, focused on Ditzy’s light-flashing.

Gruff harrumphed. “Don’t you shush me, boy, I—”

“Shush!” This time Gallus and Spike both jointly hushed him. Gruff harrumphed again but stayed quiet this time.

After another moment of Ditzy flashing her light, the airship outside flicked on its sole spotlight before starting to flash its own coded reply. Ditzy watched it intently for a moment, translating it in her head, before breathing a sigh of relief. “They’re Night Guard,” she reported swiftly, which immediately alieved any tensions that’d sprung up. “They are the ship come to pick us up.”

“Thank goodness!” Spike breathed, his relief palatable. “I did not want to get shot at by an airship for a third time.”

Ditzy proceeded to flash a new response back to the airship, probably signaling them to land. “We better gather our things,” she advised once she’d done that.

There wasn’t much to collect so this didn’t take long. Meanwhile Ditzy doused the fire in the fireplace, sending the living room back to its dark and cold state they’d originally found it in, before leading them outside into the front yard. There the airship was already coming in to land directly in front of them, about roughly half the size Gene Type’s airship had been. Now that it was so close, its Night Guard markings were clear to see, a reassuring sight after so many false alarms with past airships. It landed so its rear faced them, and once the airship had safely settled upon the ground with a gentle creak, its back cargo ramp lowered by a manual crank to reveal a pewter green unicorn stallion dressed in the customary Night Guard armor standing there and waiting to greet them.

Ditzy apparently recognized him. “Commander Flicker Flare,” she greeted warmly, giving him a salute.

The commander happily returned it as he made his way down the ramp. “Lieutenant Commander Ditzy Doo,” he greeted back. He smirked. “Not the first time I’ve had to give you a lift after stranding yourself during a mission.”

Ditzy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, Flick.”

“Always a pleasure, Ditz,” Flicker replied. He turned serious as he arrived at the bottom of the ramp. “Actually, we’re glad to see you here and okay. We were alarmed when we discovered your transponder was broadcasting all the way out here, far from where we were expecting.”

“Yeah, we…ran into some trouble earlier,” Ditzy explained, biting her lip.

“Caught a lot of radio chatter about an incident in Griffonstone on our way in, figured you might’ve had something to do with it,” Flicker noted with a nod before turning his attention to the others with her. “I assume these are the creatures the princess said you’re escorting?”

“Right,” Ditzy said, pointing a hoof at each of them in turn. “Gruff, Gallus, and of course you should already know Spike.”

Flicker gave Gallus in particular a confused look over. “Did you fall into some dye or…?”

“Oh, let’s just not get into that,” Gallus interrupted with an annoyed wave, knowing he was talking about the inks still coloring parts of his coat—he made a note to scrub the darn stuff out the moment he got a chance.

“We need to get them back to Canterlot safe and sound,” Ditzy continued to explain to Flicker. “And I should warn you—their pursuers may have airships of their own.”

“Noted,” Flicker said, rubbing his chin as he considered that detail. “Fortunately, we were able to fly in here without encountering any other craft, so hopefully we’ll have no problem doing so again on the way out.” He stomped a hoof decisively. “In any case, let’s not delay getting you all aboard any longer.”

“Finally,” Gruff grumbled, taking that as permission enough to board and headed up the ramp into the airship.

Flicker raised an amused eyebrow at the griffon’s grouching. “Welcome aboard the Conveyance anyway, sir,” he said to be pleasant.

Gallus snorted as he followed Gruff. “A dropship named Conveyance—somebody thought they were being really clever with that name.”

“She’s still reliable for getting you where you need to go,” Flicker replied before greeting Spike next. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Advisor Spike.”

“Wish it was under better conditions, commander,” Spike replied back as he and Ditzy brought up the rear.

The airship didn’t have much to its interior, with the majority of its deck space being a single open compartment split in two halves, one bearing seating for passengers or crew but the rest left clear for the sole purpose of hauling cargo, as shown by the number of crates already aboard. Another smaller deck was above them, but it seemed to contain only the craft’s flight controls and little else. Counting the commander, it was crewed by only four ponies, but all of them seemed experienced. The moment they were aboard Flicker was all business, giving the order to a bat pony crewmember to raise the back hatch and for the pilot, hidden in the cockpit up a small flight of stairs, to take off immediately and start heading for Canterlot.

As Gallus settled into a seat though, he couldn’t help but look longingly back at the house while the airship lifted off and started pulling away from it, suddenly feeling reluctant to leave. Ditzy must’ve noticed because she placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Once this is all over, you should be able to come back,” she assured. “Assuming you want to.”

Gallus glanced back at house slowly shrinking away. “I just might.”

Ditzy gave him a final pat before turning to Flicker. “Flick, our communications beetle is still recharging and I have a heap of new information to report to the princess. Do you have radio contact with Canterlot currently?”

Flicker nodded and motioned for her to follow him. “Sure do, Ditz. Let’s see if we can get her highness on the horn for you.” He nodded to the remaining bat pony crewmember. “Keep everything shipshape down here, Crewpony Gloam,” he instructed as he led Ditzy up the stairs.

“Yes sir,” the bat pony, Gloam, responded with a salute and assumed a guarding stance at his post to one side of the room.

Spike, seated next to Gallus, let himself go limp with a weary sigh. “Well, hopefully this means we’re past the worst of it now,” he remarked aloud.

“Yeah,” Gallus replied, only half-listening as he continued to watch the house shrink as they flew away, “one can hope.”

Gruff, seated on the opposite side of Spike, snorted. “I’m not holding my breath.”

And Gallus still had to relent to the niggling thought in the back of his head that Gruff might be right to do so.
> Truly Mourn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Conveyance continued flying through the quiet night for some time without incident. The resulting peace that settled within the airship actually seemed kind of strange to Gallus after two days of near constant running, fleeing, and hiding, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He mused to himself how nice it was to be reminded what calm was actually like, allowing him to finally relax enough to try and drift to sleep. Unfortunately, the seating aboard the dropship was built more for function than comfort, so he struggled to find a comfortable enough position for anything more than a light doze. Spike likewise seemed to struggle getting comfortable. It actually made Gallus a little jealous of Gruff, the one creature who didn’t seem to have this problem, for he appeared to doze off fairly early on in the flight.

Most of this time period was spent with Flicker and Ditzy still on the upper deck, reporting in via radio, but finally after what Gallus estimated to be around an hour, Flicker returned to the lower deck so to check up on them.

“We’re well over ocean now,” the commander reported, pleased. “The odds of us encountering any trouble out here are pretty slim, so we’re past the hardest part of our journey.”

“Just don’t fly us into any storms,” Gallus requested, distinctly recalling the experience of doing so with Gene Type’s airship and not wanting to repeat it.

Flicker chuckled in good humor. “Wasn’t planning to,” he assured as he proceeded to take a seat across from him, Spike, and Gruff. “All reports indicate clear skies for miles around in all directions though, so there’re not many storms to be flying into anyway.”

Gallus hummed approvingly at that while Spike glanced over at the stairs. “So what’s keeping Ditzy?” the dragon asked, curious.

“It’s taking a while to fill in Princess Twilight on everything since her last report,” Flicker answered with a resigned shrug. “But it sounded like she was wrapping up when I came down here, so I expect she won’t be much longer.” He paused to look Gallus and Spike over for a moment. “I was listening in for a lot of it. It’s…quite a tale, altogether.” He motioned to the two with his hoof. “So I understand you two are, in fact, supposed to be brothers?”

Gallus and Spike glanced at each other, silently asking permission from the other to discuss the still sensitive topic. “Apparently,” Spike finally chose to sum up, uncertain how else to phrase it. “We’re, ah…”

“…we’re still adjusting to the idea,” Gallus finished.

“Sure, sure,” Flicker responded with an understanding nod. “I can understand that, given the unusual circumstances of it all.”

“You got a problem with it?” Gruff suddenly challenged without opening his eyes, proving to the surprise of the others that he was much more awake than he appeared.

“No, not at all!” Flicker quickly reassured, before his expression softened. “Honestly, I’m sort of envious—I was an only foal, myself. There were many times while growing up where I wished I had a sibling of my own.”

“It’s not so much that, it’s the suddenly finding out you always had one after years of thinking you didn’t that’s so…jarring,” Gallus summarized flatly.

“Maybe,” Flicker replied in an optimistic tone, “but you can overcome that so long as you have each other, right?”

The cliché sentiment didn’t get much reaction from his audience though, with Gallus huffing softly, Spike making a non-committal shrug, and Gruff just not reacting altogether. Frowning, Flicker chose to change the subject. “Anyway, assuming we continue to make good time like we are, we should arrive at Canterlot sometime after midnight, before sunrise at the latest.”

Spike managed a small and longing grin at that. “Looking forward to it, commander,” he assured. Both Gallus and Gruff grunted in agreement with that sentiment.

The conversation went into a lull for a moment before Ditzy returned, coming down the flight of stairs. “Well, I’ve got the princess all up to speed now,” she announced with a weary but pleased sigh, flipping her eyepatch up once again.

Spike winced, knowing what that entailed. “…how did she react?” he asked carefully.

Ditzy hesitated as she joined them, taking a seat beside Flicker. “Well, I managed to keep her from flipping out about it while we were talking, so there’s that,” she explained. She nodded her head in Gruff’s direction, who’d cracked open an eye to watch her. “I also relayed your list of suspects on to her and she intends to investigate while waiting for us to arrive. Best case, she’ll have something new to tell us by the time we arrive, but most likely we’ve done just about all we can for tonight.” She winked at Gallus and Spike. “At the very least though, we’ll get you back to safety and into a warm bed before tonight’s over.”

“Looking forward to it,” Gallus admitted, arching his back until it popped. He thumped his elbow against the back of his chair. “These seats aren’t exactly the most comfortable.”

“Apologies, this airship was built more with hauling cargo in mind than sleeping accommodations,” Flicker admitted.

“Speaking of cargo though,” Ditzy interjected and nodded her head towards the stacks of crates they were sharing space with. “I meant to ask earlier, but I see you’re currently hauling. I hope we aren’t interrupting any important runs bringing you out here for us.”

“Nah,” Flicker said with a wave of his hoof. “We were actually running well ahead of schedule when we got rerouted out to you, so if anything, this cargo will just arrive on time instead of a day or so early.”

“Where is this cargo going anyway?”

“We have orders to deliver this cargo to the ponies staffing Fort Maretime, as per a routine resupply run.”

Ditzy’s eyebrows went up at the name. “Ah, that dinky little place!” she said, evidently knowing it. “So clearly nothing too major then, hmm?”

Gallus furrowed his brow. “Where’s this…Fort Maritime or whatever?” he asked, having never heard of the place.

“Fort Maretime,” Ditzy corrected with a grin. “It’s a little outpost that sits on the coast between Fillydelphia and Baltimare. It doesn’t do much except house some general coast guard equipment, provide additional patrol support, and serve as a relay for passing radio transmissions.”

“Well, it’ll probably start becoming more important in the near future,” Flicker reasoned, “because apparently it’s gained enough of a permanent populace that a township has been founded nearby, named after that bay it all sits around. Last I heard, the founding mayor has big plans for the place, claiming it’ll one day be the center of Equestrian affairs for that area.”

Ditzy snorted, amused by the grandiose claim. “Not in this generation, it’s not,” she promised. “There’s barely anything worth going there for right now.”

“They do have a very nice lighthouse though,” Flicker pointed out.

Ditzy nodded, conceding that point. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” she relented.

She continued discussing the topic, but by that point Gallus had begun tuning it out, bored. It was too mundane a subject to interest him. Instead, he let his mind wander, eventually mulling over what he’d learned of his late parents. On one side, he still wasn’t sure how to describe what he felt about it. He didn’t feel good at least, which seemed appropriate, but he was also…uncomfortable about it. Gwen and Spark may have been his parents, but…it was so long ago they felt like strangers to him, like he never actually knew them. And yet, at the same time, he felt a strong bond to them like they still meant the world to him, leaving him with this disconnecting sensation that was kind of unsettling. He didn’t really know what to make of it.

What would he even say to them if he could somehow meet them anyway? Thinking that an interesting thought, Gallus envisioned himself standing before Gwen and Spark and asked himself what he’d do in such a scenario. Ultimately he found himself just sort of standing there awkwardly and not knowing what to say. But then perhaps he didn’t need to as, unbidden, his envisioned version of Gwen pulled him into a comforting hug followed by Spark lovingly ruffling his crest then joining in too. Heartened by these actions somehow summing it up, he pondered what would happen then. What would they do together if they were reunited like that?

Gallus liked the idea of showing them the School of Friendship and introducing them to all his friends there. He supposed it was just to show he was doing okay and wasn’t alone, but it felt important to him as a sort of unspoken reassurance. He could also show them some of the varying skills he had picked up over the years since they were separated—at least the more flattering ones. That’d at least prove he could be independent and look after himself, another reassurance he felt was necessary. He also liked the idea of just playing some kind of game with them, which seemed kind of childish in his head, but his heart didn’t really care about that, considering who he’d be playing with. Besides, maybe he and Spark could play a game of boffyball, one-on-one because that just seemed like what fathers and sons do. Assuming Spark knew how to play, of course, but Gallus would be happy to teach him, and it wasn’t like he was that great of a player himself. Heck, it didn’t have to be boffyball, as there were plenty of other sports out there to play, maybe one they all could play, him, Spark, Gwen, and Spike as well.

But in the end, the thing Gallus found he wanted to do the most was to just sit there, chat with them, and all be together. He even envisioned them all sitting on that ugly couch at the house, huddled together and enjoying each other’s company while a warm fire burned in the fireplace nearby. He was surprised at just how much he wanted more moments like that in his life and found himself wishing his vision of it would never end. But of course it had to eventually, with Gwen and Spark suddenly being pulled—nay, ripped—away to vanish into an engulfing darkness, while he was left frightened, cold, hungry, and alone hiding in a barrel too small within a clearing too big, empty, and foreboding, never to see them again…

“Gallus, wake up!”

Gallus snorted awake from his nightmare, surprised as he hadn’t realized he’d drifted asleep. He groggily looked at Ditzy, who’d shaken him awake. “What, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Ditzy smiled. “Nothing, actually,” she assured him. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re almost there and will probably be landing before too much longer.”

Startled, he twisted around to peer out the nearest window. It was very dark out given the late hour, but he could still make out the familiar outlines of Equestria’s hilly terrain, a sight that made his heart soar. Never had he thought he’d be this thrilled to see those hills, but it felt like it’d been forever since he’d last laid eye on them. Of course, soon the hills gave way to the equally familiar tower-filled skyline of Canterlot as the Conveyance started its final approach for landing. That skyline was darker than he was used to seeing it, again due to the late hour, but it was still alight with plenty of warm and friendly lights that only further reassured him that a place of safety was finally imminent.

His attention was pulled away from the window at that point by Flicker encouraging them to gather their things, causing him to miss the actual landing, but as it was gentle enough that Gallus only sensed a subtle bump from the airship setting down onto solid ground, he probably didn’t miss much. Besides, he heard one of Flicker’s crew report they were landing in the royal palace’s private airship yard, something he had seen before anyway (though admittedly only in passing as part of a class field trip). Nevertheless, while waiting for the airship’s back ramp to finish lowering, he found their arrival greeted by a group of ponies waiting for them just outside. It was composed of a small escort of guards encircled around a trio of ponies, the foremost of which was…

“Twilight!” Spike cried in relief as he darted ahead of the others and into the alicorn’s awaiting hooves.

“Spike!” Twilight Sparkle likewise cried back, happily embracing him in a relived hug of her own. “Are you okay? No injuries to report?”

“Just some scrapes and bruises, nothing major,” Spike assured her, not letting up his hug.

“That and some mental trauma,” Gallus joked as he, Gruff, and Ditzy joined the group. “But who’s counting?”

Twilight chuckled and gave Spike another loving squeeze before moving him to be wrapped around her wing instead. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you’re all safe,” she continued as she stood on all fours again. “These past two days have been a veritable nightmare after what happened with Gene Type.” Twilight looked to Ditzy, grateful. “Thank you, Ditzy, for finding them and bringing them back safely.”

“Just doing my job, your highness,” Ditzy replied modestly, making a polite bow in greeting. “Besides, the job’s not done just yet.”

“No, but it feels like we’re actually getting somewhere now,” Twilight admitted. She motioned for them to follow her as the group started towards the nearby royal palace. “I’ve felt like I’ve been helplessly stuck on the sidelines watching it play out up to now.”

“Tell you what,” Gallus again quipped as they walked, “next time you can actually live the nightmare while the rest of us watch from the sidelines.”

Once more, Twilight took the quip in good spirit and smiled. “Fair enough,” she admitted, turning her attention to the griffon and breathing a heavy sigh. “Though honestly, Gallus, I feel I should apologize. Encouraging you both to meet with Gene Type had been my idea, and…”

“…and it was still ultimately my choice to go, not yours,” Gallus cut her short, not blaming her. “And let’s not fool ourselves. Even if we hadn’t gone, Gene Type and whoever else is involved in this would’ve just struck some other way.” He then jabbed his head at the other ponies with her, the guards having almost completely and protectively encircled them. “So what’s up with the entourage?”

“Given circumstances, the princess felt an escort of guards for your added protection was wise,” matter-of-factly replied a greying old stallion from Twilight’s side and who had the most intense mustache Gallus had ever seen.

“And you are?” Gallus asked, raising a brow at him, a reaction that drew a giggle from Spike watching the exchange. 

“Gallus, these are my aides, Kibitz and Raven,” Twilight introduced, motioning to the stallion and the petite but professional mare next to him, both bespectacled. “I don’t believe you’ve all met before, have you?”

“I can’t say that I have, princess, but I’ve heard stories,” the white unicorn, Raven, replied as she offered her hoof to Gallus.

“Good ones, I hope,” Gallus said, shaking her hoof to be formal.

“They generally are when it comes to the princess’s former pupils,” Raven remarked with a warm grin, overall giving off a friendlier presence than the more firm Kibitz had and who, unlike Raven, didn’t offer his hoof for shaking. But then Raven’s brow furrowed in concern as she peered at Gallus through her glasses. “Did…something happen to your face?”

Gallus realized she was referring to the inks coloring it and let out a weary sigh. “I’d disguised myself at one point, okay?” he said, past done explaining this so frequently. Almost at the same time, Raven’s mention of the School of Friendship put another thought in his head. “Oh droppings, the school! Everybody there has gotta be confused as all heck on what’s going on with me right now.” He looked to Twilight. “Is there any way to…?”

Twilight motioned for him to be calm before he finished. “Don’t worry, I’ve already informed Starlight that, for your own protection, you’ll be staying at the palace for now and she promised to pass it on to all of your friends. She probably already has by now.”

Gallus breathed a sigh of relief now that concern was settled. “Thank you, princess,” he said.

“You’re quite welcome,” Twilight said with a nod. “Hopefully you can be reunited with them in person soon. Although I should add that I didn’t inform them of anything concerning…well…the whys of all of this. I…figured you’d probably prefer doing that yourself, when the time comes.”

Gallus’s head spun at the mere idea of filling in his friends on everything he’d learned about his lineage. “Yeah, particularly as I’m still trying to figure it all out myself,” he admitted, rubbing his brow with a weary paw.

“Personally, I’m less interested in what’s been done and more in what’s going to happen next,” Gruff chose that moment to rudely butt in, clearly wanting the conversation to stick with the current situation.

Twilight must’ve agreed, because she released Spike from her one-wing hug and turned fully serious again. “Unfortunately, I don’t have too much to report right now,” she began by admitting as they entered the palace, its corridors dimly lit for the night. “But there have been some minor developments since we all last spoke. First of all, I’ve heard from Lord Gestal who has demanded an explanation after what transpired at the Griffonstone embassy, since, to the griffons, it appeared Equestrians had attacked a griffon airship out of context.”

“Sorry, not sorry,” Gruff replied without any remorse. “I assume you’ve told him nothing?”

“On the contrary, to try and determine exactly where Gestal may or may not stand in this whole matter, I cautiously replied and explained in brief what I by then had learned of that situation.” Catching Gruff about to object, Twilight swiftly added, “Without informing him of your current whereabouts or even naming who were specifically involved in the incident. In fact, I endeavored to present my side of the story as if I still knew relatively little of the matter.”

“A potential risk doing that, your highness,” Ditzy observed.

“That’s what we told her,” Raven agreed.

“But one that may pay off,” Twilight said, “as Gestal has, thus far, acted only with surprise and outrage that any griffons would openly attack allies like this and declared he will begin an investigation of his own. All in all, while it hasn’t earned him my total trust yet, I currently suspect Gestal, at least, may not actually be involved after all, and if so, he may yet prove to be a valuable ally…but I’m awaiting further correspondence before I make any further moves on the matter.” She nodded her head at Gruff and Ditzy. “And I will welcome any input either of you wish to give on that front, but we can talk about that more later. In the meantime—Gruff, I’ve been in touch with Dragon Lord Ember about that dragon suspect, Rhyolite, you listed to Ditzy. She believes she knows the dragon you’re talking about, but she wants to do some more investigating of her own so to confirm before giving me any details.”

Gruff huffed at that. “And you believe her?” he challenged, doubting Ember’s word.

Twilight smiled wryly. “Considering I also had to get Ember to Pinkie Promise not to preemptively kill any suspects out of, and I quote, ‘vengeance for Spike’ due to how enraged she was by this news, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that I can.”

Gallus smirked himself. From what he’d heard of her, that did sound like the dragon lord all right.

“Beyond that, though,” Twilight continued once Gruff didn’t object further, “the situation here is still much as you would’ve last heard, unfortunately. Gene Type’s apartment is a lost cause due to the fire, which has now definitely been ruled an act of arson, likely to destroy any evidence it might have contained. We have no leads on who did it. And unfortunately we’ve found nothing further of use in Gene Type’s office or any of his other places of work, and what we have found, only tells us details we already know—that he was plotting something concerning the two of you.”

“A something we know full well now,” Spike muttered, frowning at the memory of Gene Type’s attempted attack.

“The important point is that you two are out of danger for now,” Twilight stressed, looking at Spike and Gallus. “And to help ensure it stays that way, the palace is now under lockdown until further notice—no unauthorized creatures will be allowed in or out without my explicit okay.” She nodded to the guards escorting them through the hallways. “Likewise you two will be under constant guard until such time we’ve definitively ended this matter once and for all.”

“On that point, I would like to recommend myself and my fellow Night Guards for that task, your highness,” Ditzy immediately volunteered.

“Does it need to be the Night Guard, though?” Kibitz swiftly challenged. “The Royal Guard would work just as well and they are trained for this sort of duty too.” He ignored Raven elbowing him for the pointed remark.

“True,” Twilight patiently replied, though her tone sounded like this wasn’t the first time she’d had this sort of conversation with the stallion advisor. “However, the Night Guard was involved in this matter from the start, so technically they still have jurisdiction.”

“Besides, wasn’t Gene Type working for the Royal Guard?” Gruff pointedly added, glancing in Kibitz’s direction.

Kibitz frowned, not pleased by the insinuation. “That doesn’t mean Gene Type, as a civilian contractor, was an actual Royal Guard though,” he retorted.

“Gruff does have a point though, Kibitz,” Raven added placating. “Thus far, there have been no signs any of the Night Guard are part of this conspiracy.”

“If anything, we’ve only helped to keep these two alive,” Ditzy added while motioning to Gallus and Spike, understandably sounding a bit bitter about the insinuations.

“We can discuss it in more detail later,” Twilight interrupted, ending the budding argument. “But for now, I agree with Ditzy that the Night Guard are the more ideal candidates. There is a degree of stealth and espionage involved here and that is what the Night Guard specializes in.” Kibitz frowned but relented without further protest so Twilight turned to Ditzy and Gruff. “Speaking of, Ditzy, Gruff, as two of the creatures most in the know on what’s happening, I would like to speak to you both about everything that has happened so to try and plan out our next steps.”

“And where do you want me and Gallus, Twilight?” Spike asked, eager to help.

Though Twilight smiled at the offer, she stopped to face him and Gallus, shaking her head. “The only place you two are going is someplace to rest,” she said. She lifted both of their chins with her hooves. “You’ve been through a lot and you both look dead on your feet, so the rest of us will handle things while you recoup. Understood?”

Spike clearly didn’t want to give up that easily, but a big yawn chose that moment to force its way out of his mouth. Gallus smirked and pulled the little dragon closer. “We get it, princess,” he assured her. “We’ll call it a night.”

“Good,” Twilight said, and with a nod they all resumed walking again. “But is there anything you two still need real quick before doing that?”

“Well, Spike might still have that spell Gene Type put on him so to block his mail sending ability thing,” Gallus pointed out, though inwardly surprised he remembered that detail—it’d been awhile since he’d actually stopped to think about it.

“Oh yes, Ditzy did mention that earlier,” Twilight said. She lit her horn and conducted a quick scan of the little dragon. Then, with a satisfied hum, she cast a simple counterspell on him. “There, that should do it. Looks like Gene Type just used a simple blocking spell that’s easy enough to reverse.”

“And just when we no longer need to send a message anymore,” Spike quipped with a teasing smile.

Twilight returned it before moving on. “Now, anything else we can do or get you before you turn in? Something to eat, perhaps? I can get the kitchen staff to prepare something for you.”

“Honestly, all I’d really want right now is a bath and a bed,” Gallus answered truthfully, Spike silently nodding in agreement. Besides, he wasn’t especially hungry at the moment—he could still feel Ditzy’s rations weighing down his gut. In fact, was it just him, or did it feel like that heavy mass had somehow gotten even heavier in there?

“Very well,” Twilight said and nodded an unspoken order to the closest of the guards. The group thusly changed course by turning to head down a different hallway. “We’ll take you straight to my private quarters then. That’s where I’ve arranged for you to stay for the time being.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up. “Your private quarters?” he asked, surprised. “Seriously?”

“It actually makes sense,” Ditzy reasoned. “By design, the princess’s quarters are one of the most secure places in the palace. Any potential attackers would have a hard time getting past its defenses.”

“So you’re going to be bunking with us, Twilight?” Spike asked innocently.

“No, no, I don’t want to intrude on your privacy,” Twilight assured with the shake of her head. “For now I’ll sleep in one of the guest suites instead.”

Gallus raised a brow at that. “What’s the point of putting all that security in your room if you aren’t going to use it?” he asked.

“The guest suites aren’t without their own defenses too, you know,” Twilight replied with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one our current set of attackers is targeting.”

Gallus supposed he couldn’t argue that point. Not there was really any time to as just a minute later they arrived at a set of double doors already flanked by a pair of guards. Gallus assumed this was the princess’s quarters, and sure enough, the doors were opened to reveal a luxurious bedchamber with an attached bathroom on one side and even a fancy fireplace. At Twilight’s prompting, both Spike and Gallus headed inside and proceeded to look around the room. Spike did so fairly casually—he’d probably been inside here plenty of times before—but it was Gallus’s first time and he couldn’t help but stop and take in the details.

“I hope this will be enough for your needs for the evening,” Twilight said, looking somewhat anxious for reasons Gallus couldn’t understand. “Feel free to use whatever you need to in here, though the decision to house you here was made rather last minute so it wasn’t exactly prepared for you in advance…”

Gallus made an amused snort, unable to pull his eyes off of the splendor of the room. “Princess, trust me when I say this is way more than we need,” he assured. “I can’t say I’d ever thought I’d be spending the night in a room this…fancy.”

“Fancy is right!” Gruff declared, also glancing into the room from the doorway and scoffed aloud. “Typical ponies, building everything with an excessively high amount of vainglorious décor—how many bits were wasted making this place?”

Twilight scowled, but inhaling sharply, she chose not to acknowledge the criticism. “We’ll leave you to it, then,” she told Spike and Gallus, motioning the others back out. “Gruff, Ditzy, we have business to discuss elsewhere.” She started to close the doors behind her but then stopped to say one final thing. “Oh, and Gallus and Spike? One more thing.” Once she had their attention she took a deep breath. “Look, you two have been through a lot the past couple of days, and…I’m sure it’s been difficult for you to take it all in.”

Indirect though it was, Gallus realized this was the first time since they’d arrived that she’d acknowledged their newly discovered lineage. “I’m sure it’s a lot for you to take in too,” he remarked knowingly.

“Yeah,” Spike added, appearing to realize the same thing and gave Twilight a concerned look. “How…are you taking that, Twi?”

Twilight bit her lip. “I’ve already made plans for us to…investigate…that matter more in the morning, when we’re all of clearer minds,” she explained. “But for now, what I’m trying to say is…if either of you need to talk…you just have to ask.”

Gallus couldn’t even begin to decide what he’d talk with her on the subject, let alone how. “I’ll…keep that in mind, princess,” he promised, though inwardly he was conscious of how unconvincing he sounded.

“We appreciate the offer, Twilight,” Spike added a bit more sincerely as he pulled off his backpack and set it on the floor. “And if either of us want to take you up on that, we know how to find you.” He shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing awkwardly in Gallus’s direction as if hoping he’d pitch in, but Gallus certainly didn’t know what to add at this point. “But, uh…I think we both need more time to…process this on our own, y’know?”

Twilight nodded slowly, though she didn’t seem totally convinced herself. “I think I do,” she said. “But still…the offer stands.” She waited a moment in case either of them said anything else then gave a final nod, aware she had Gruff and Ditzy waiting for her outside. “Anyway…good night and sleep well. Hopefully things will continue to turn around tomorrow.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Gallus said as Twilight finally left, closing the door behind her. “Good night, princess.”

An awkward silence fell in the room after that as Spike and Gallus looked at each other, silently pondering what to do now. Spike decided to preoccupy himself by going around and turning on all the lights. Gallus meanwhile took another lookover of the room before studying the only bed. He wondered if this meant he and Spike would have to experience the awkwardness of sharing it, but then realized the bed was Princess Celestia-sized, big enough that both he and Spike could easily sleep on either side, have plenty of space to stretch out as much as they liked, and still have as much as a foot or two of empty space between them. Really, sharing it wouldn’t be an issue at all. So Gallus turned his attention to the attached bathroom and decided to make good on his earlier request for a bath.

Like the rest of the room, the attached bathroom was also fairly luxurious. Even the toilet seemed lavish in appearance, though as far as Gallus could tell it still worked like any other toilet so he didn’t really see the need. Maybe Gruff had a point about the overt extravagance the palace was seemingly built with. In any case, Gallus’s first priority was a mirror so to assess the damage of his appearance. It wasn’t as bad as he feared, but it was clear his coat was overall dirty enough to need cleaning, and of course, he still had the inks rubbed into large portions of it, giving him an odd sort of two-tone look that begrudgingly got him to understand why everybody couldn’t help but point it out whenever they saw him. A quick sniff under one wing also proved he was putting off a mildly funky odor.

So obviously some cleaning was in order, and for that, Gallus had two options: a princess-sized walk-in shower, or a large spa-like bathtub. Of the two, the shower would be faster, but he liked the idea of relaxing in a hot bath. So he started filling the tub with water and, since Twilight said to use anything he needed, helped himself to the varying bottles of soap, quickly producing a bubbly foam over the water’s surface. Settling himself into it with a relieved sigh, he let himself just sit there for a moment, letting the heated water loosen the various knots and sore spots in his muscles.

But not wanting to delay getting to bed too long given how incredibly late it was, Gallus then grabbed a brush and started scrubbing. Lathering himself up with soap alone did wonders for making him feel much cleaner, and it took only a mild amount of scrubbing to get the inks out of his coat, slowly coloring the water as he did so but he didn’t particularly care right now, he just wanted the stuff off of him. He had only been at it for a couple of minutes when he heard a polite knock at the bathroom door.

“Gallus?” he heard Spike call through it.

“Yeah?” Gallus called back. “What’s up?”

“It’s just…” Spike audibly hesitated. “…are you decent at the moment?”

Gallus surveyed the tub he sat chest deep within bubbly water in. “Well, I’m still in the tub, but I suppose there’s nothing here you wouldn’t have already seen. Why?”

The door, which Gallus apparently hadn’t remembered to lock, nudged open a crack and allowed Spike to poke his head through. He again hesitated upon seeing Gallus sitting there in the tub, though Gallus didn’t know why—it wasn’t like he had anything to hide, and thanks to the bubbles, most of his body was hidden from view anyway.

“Um,” Spike mumbled, “can…can I come in?”

Gallus made an indifferent shrug. “Sure, I guess.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Nah, I know I can trust you, so come on in.” Gallus patted a spot next to the tub.

Spike walked over and accepted it, seating himself on the bathroom floor. Gallus noticed he had taken off his advisor medallion, which was no big deal, but after getting so used to him consistently wearing it for the past two days, the dragon seemed oddly bare without it.

But after watching Spike fidget uncomfortably to himself for a second, Gallus suspected something else was off about him. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“I just…” Spike was already not looking at Gallus, but he averted his gaze further anyway as if ashamed. “…I just didn’t want to be alone, you know?”

“Ah,” Gallus replied with a knowing nod, relaxing. “Yeah, I get it. After everything we’ve been through the past couple of days, I can understand that.”

As Spike didn’t speak further for a moment and thinking that was all then, Gallus went back to scrubbing. Spike meanwhile remained seated beside the bathtub, looking lost in thought. “You don’t seem like you would,” the dragon remarked suddenly.

Gallus stopped scrubbing and sighed. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to answer truthfully, but after a moment’s hesitation he decided that, after everything else they’d shared during this misadventure, he owed Spike the truth. “Alone is something I’m unfortunately all too familiar with, Spike.”

Spike curled up on himself a little at that. “…you know you won’t have to be now, once this is all over.”

That was a mountain Gallus wasn’t sure he was ready to scale just yet. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he shirked.

A long moment of silence fell after that. Gallus resumed scrubbing once more, but he did so hesitantly. He sensed something else was bothering Spike that was still unsaid, however he opted to not press the dragon and instead let him speak it whenever he was ready to.

Finally, out of the blue, Spike just blurted it out. “I saw you visiting her grave,” he said, his tone knowing, “back at the house.” He fidgeted with his claws uncomfortably. “Which is okay, I just…I just wondered why you didn’t say anything about it.”

Gallus lowered the brush and stared into the bathwater. “…I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Now he was the one avoiding eye contact, not that Spike was seeking it. “I…I didn’t think you’d be up for going through that.” He ran his tongue over the edge of his beak uncomfortably, realizing how it sounded now that he was saying it out loud. “I’m sorry.”

Spike, however, shook his head. “No, you were right,” he admitted. He breathed a heavy and sad sigh. “I…I wanted to go out and…do the same, but…I just couldn’t bring myself to.”

Gallus also breathed a sigh. “Spike, it’s okay if you were too…uncomfortable…about it,” he attempted to placate. “It’s…not like it’s going anywhere either, so…you could always go back…when you are ready.”

“I know,” Spike said, but he only curled up on himself further. “But that’s not the problem.”

“…then what is?”

Spike continued to hesitate, but the matter was clearly bothering him quite a bit. “Ever since Gruff told us about them…about Gwen and Spark…I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about it, and…” he squirmed to himself. “…I feel like I should be sad for them. I want to be sad for them. I mean, I still am, it’s just…I feel like I should be a lot more sad than I am. But…Gallus, I didn’t know them. I never did.” If it was possible, he sank even further upon himself. “And they never knew me. So…how could I be?”

All at once, Gallus understood and he leaned over the edge of the tub so to look at the dragon better. “Spike, that doesn’t make you any less of a creature,” he assured.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Spike snorted, suddenly upset. “They were loving and caring parents, but I can’t relate to them, I can’t feel for them. How…how can I miss something…how can I truly mourn for something…that I never knew? And I just…I just…” He leaned back, letting his head thump sadly on the side of the tub. “…I feel like I owe them something that I can’t give…that I don’t have…because I never had it to begin with.”

Gallus, meanwhile, had started staring into the bathwater he sat in, faintly colored violet from the inks he had been scrubbing off, watching the bubbles pop and swirl around him. “At least you have an excuse.”

Spike perked up at that, turning around to bewilderedly look Gallus in the eye at last. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was more confused than accusatory.

Gallus almost wished that it was though—that seemed like it’d be more fitting. “Spike, I don’t remember anything about them.”

“…but you were, what, four at the time? Five? After so much time and everything that’s happened, no one can blame you for forgetting—”

“It’s not that I don’t remember because I forgot them, Spike.” Gallus squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t remember them because I made myself forget.”

Spike stood up, grabbing hold of the tub’s edge while continuing to look confused at him. “I don’t understand.”

Gallus did. He understood all too well, ever since he and Gruff had figured out what Gwen had done on that night so long ago. He had been trying to keep the thought at wing’s length ever since, keeping himself from focusing on it, trying to act like it wasn’t there at all or that it didn’t bother him. But no matter how much he worked to beat it away, the thought was still there, nagging the back of his mind and continually pushing back. And now, after spending most of the night trying to ignore it, it was finally breaking through his defenses and could be ignored no more.

He inhaled, heard the air enter his lungs with a shuddering sound, a telltale that he was about to lose his composure, but it was like rolling a big boulder over a hill—once you were past the peak, the boulder would start rolling the rest of the way down on its own whether you wanted it to or not. “I buried the memories of it all, Spike, once it was all over,” he explained, trying to keep his voice even and controlled but not really succeeding. “I realized I must have when I was…out there. I’d been…confused, and hurt, and…and I just couldn’t deal with it. So I buried it all. I moved on, refusing to think about it so I wouldn’t have to deal with it…until it faded away to the point I couldn’t remember it anymore.”

Spike still didn’t seem to understand. “But there wasn’t anything you could change about it anyway.”

“That’s not the point. Spike, she…” Gallus shook his head, feeling himself start to tear up. “Spike, she sacrificed herself to save me. Gruff and I figured out how she did it while we were out there, how she hid me away then went back to let herself get caught, make sure they never found me. She died for my sake, Spike, and how do I repay her? I banish all memory of her, of what she did from my mind, just because it hurt too much to think about and I wasn’t brave enough to face it!” He was openly weeping by now. “What kind of coward am I if I can’t even bring myself to…to honor what she did so selflessly and…and…”

He broke down completely at that point, gasping for breath in-between his noisy sobs as the grief he’d been bottling up all throughout suddenly came bubbling out unbidden at last. He was so caught up in his emotions that he’d almost forgotten Spike was being witness to it until he felt the little dragon reach out and wrap his arms around his neck in a comforting hug. Without even thinking about it, Gallus wrapped his own arms around Spike and pulled him as close as the side of the tub sitting between them would allow. They stayed like that for some minutes, just holding each other in this moment of grief, and it was definitely shared—the warm wetness Gallus felt on his neck made it clear Spike was weeping too.

It was only as Gallus’s sobs faded into heavy breathing an untold amount of time later that speaking could finally resume. “Just…how would she react…” Gallus breathed slowly, spelling it out, “…if she knew how her sacrifice was being repaid?”

Spike was quiet for a long moment before finally managing to get out an answer. “Gallus,” he whispered into his ear with a voice of utmost confidence, making it clear that he had no doubts at all on what he was about to say, “I’m positive that even if she knew all of this back then…she still would’ve done it all exactly the same anyway.” He gave Gallus’s neck a squeeze, choking back a sob of his own. “One doesn’t do everything that she had—that they both did—if it hadn’t been out of the deepest of love a parent could have.”

It didn’t make Gallus feel all that much better…but the thought still warmed his heart. He returned the squeeze back to Spike. “I just…wish I could tell them that, to…explain myself to them.”

“So do I, Gallus,” Spike replied back. “I’m not sure there’s anything either of us can do so to properly honor their memory though…not in the way they really deserve.” He sniffled. “But maybe…maybe we don’t need to. We may have lost them, and that’s…that’s devastating, but…but I think that’s not what they wanted. What they wanted…was us. Knowing that we both survived even when they didn’t…they can at least rest easy knowing they had that much. Anything else we can give them after that…” Through his sadness, Gallus could feel Spike’s cheeks pulling upward in a sudden grin. “…is just the icing on the cake.”

Gallus let out a few more shuddering breaths, blinking away the tears that had flooded his eyes. “I don’t think they’d blame you for anything, Spike,” he felt obligated to reassure.

“I think you’re right…or at least now I do.” Spike gave his neck one last squeeze. “I don’t think they’d blame you for anything either. Particularly not now…not after showing how much it clearly means to you anyway.”

It was a good point, so Gallus chose not to argue it. As such, silence largely fell again except for the sounds of them trying to regain their composure, seeing they’d cried out the worst of their grief for now. Gallus slowly became aware, since he’d been in the middle of bathing when this happened, of how him hugging Spike with wet arms had gotten the dragon damp. “Sorry,” he apologized after a moment, snuffling his nose. “I didn’t mean to unload all this on you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Spike said with a grin, giving him a pat. “You…helped sort a few things out for me too.” He then slowly pulled out of the hug so to look himself over, seeing the dampness had left streaks in the faint layers of dirt on his own body. He chuckled. “I guess I could use a bath myself, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Gallus replied teasingly as he wiped at his nose.

“Gee, thanks,” Spike said, giving him an exasperated smirk, before clapping his paws together decisively. “But I guess since I’m in here, I might as well wash up too.”

As such, since Gallus was already in the tub, Spike made use of the shower to clean up in. By the time they both finished and dried off, Gallus was left feeling fresher, cleaner, but also plumb worn out.

“I don’t know about you,” Gallus wearily said as they exited the bathroom, “but I’m ready to crawl into bed and just zonk. How about you?”

Spike stifled a yawn. “Yeah, me too,” he agreed as they approached the bed. They examined it for a moment, pondering again how they were going to share it. “You take the right side, I’ll take the left?”

“Deal,” Gallus said, and with that they both crawled under the covers. As he’d anticipated earlier, the massive bed left them both with plenty of space, so much so one could barely tell they were sharing at all. “Well…goodnight, then,” he said, reaching to switch off the light.

“Yeah, night,” Spike replied. He then went quiet for a moment, but Gallus could tell he hadn’t gone to sleep yet. “Gallus…even if you don’t really remember them either…do you still miss them?”

Gallus breathed a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” he admitted. He pulled the covers a little tighter around himself. “…do you?”

“…yeah.” Spike’s voice was very quiet, like he was afraid of being overheard.

“The worst part is that we can’t really do much about it. They’re gone either way, so…”

“…yeah.” Spike fell silent for another moment. “But…it still means we’re family now, so…at least we have each other…right?”

The sappy sentiment tugged at Gallus’s heart more than he expected it to. “I’ve never really had a brother before though,” he admitted softly. “I…don’t really know how to…you know…be a good one.”

“That’s okay,” Spike assured with a tired yawn, the last thing he’d say before drifting to sleep, “You’ve already done a pretty good job so far.”

Somehow, that ended up being the best thing Gallus had heard all day and found himself falling to sleep shortly thereafter with a pleased grin upon his beak.
> New Developments
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gallus ultimately had to hand it to Princess Twilight—the gal sure knew how to get a great bed. Even though he was sharing it with another creature, Gallus never once noticed throughout the remainder of the night, no matter how much either of them twisted and turned. The warm covers cocooning around him also helped whisk him away into metaphorical isolation for sleep, shielded from any and all outward disruptions. Though to be fair, he’d slept so soundly due to how exhausted he’d been upon finally crawling in that he might as well have been dead to world, not stirring once throughout.

In short, it was a rejuvenating and blissful sleep. And when morning eventually arrived the following day, seeping peacefully into the room, Gallus would’ve preferred to stay there and sleep in for as long as he could. Given he’d had yet another late night and stressful day before for the second time in a row, surely he more than deserved to by now. But unfortunately he was once again lulled awake early by nature calling.

This time it was due to his gut rather rudely insisting an eviction take place, forcing Gallus to begrudgingly drag himself out of bed and retreat once more into the bathroom so to deal with it. Turned out Ditzy’s rations from the night before were just as heavy and dense coming out as they’d been going in. But despite that unpleasant start to his morning, once Gallus had finished and briefly freshened up at the sink, he felt in surprisingly good spirits and ready to start the day.

That did kind of surprise him, considering he didn’t have any real reason to be. He had creatures try to kill him three times in two days, all of whom got closer at doing so than was comfortable, and may still be plotting to kill him even now. He’d been effectively forced into protective custody as a result and spent the night in an unfamiliar room and bed because of it. He’d learned the frankly horrifying tale of what had happened to his apparent parents just the night before, as well as how much he’d been ripped away from a loving life with that family. And all of it weighed so heavily on him that last night he had an emotional breakdown over it. He still didn’t feel all that great thinking about the whole thing now, in fact.

And yet, he was in a good mood. Or maybe “good mood” wasn’t the right term…perhaps what he was feeling was more optimistic. Maybe it would be as Princess Twilight said last night and things would start turning around from here. He did feel like everything was more under control now than it’d been the past two days. He could only hope he was right with that assessment, but he felt like things would be okay, at least for the moment. Maybe all he needed was a good night’s sleep in order to see it. Whatever the reason, he found he couldn’t complain—feeling upbeat about something seemed like a nice change in comparison to the past couple of days.

Finished then, he exited the bathroom only to find Spike was awake and waiting outside. He bid Gallus a polite “good morning” before exchanging spots with him in the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Gallus decided against asking it was for similar reasons as him and instead wandered into the middle of the floor, stretching each of his limbs in turn while taking in the room once more. None of the lights were on, but there didn’t need to be as the mid-morning sunlight streaming in through the window lit things adequately enough. Thanks to that light, Gallus spied it glinting off of something metallic in one corner of the room, near its entrance. Having not noticed it the night previous, Gallus moved closer so to take a better look.

It proved to be a brass speaking tube with a switchboard mounted to the wall directly underneath it. Having heard of these but never actually seen one, Gallus couldn’t help but look it over. It appeared to work exactly as one would expect—you speak into the mouthpiece and the sound would be carried by pipe to where it’d be heard at its intended destination. Gallus figured it was used mostly for service requests by the princess as the knob-like switches all listed various staff locations throughout the palace, with the exception of the very first switch which was also the only one currently on: “Mute,” presumably so to close off the speaking tube and keep it from transmitting any sounds it shouldn’t.

A couple of the listed locations were important, such as “Guard Office” and “Infirmary,” but most of them were more commonplace, like “Advisor Office” or “Housekeeping.” The one that especially caught Gallus’s eye though was “Kitchens,” and looking at it reminded his stomach of how empty it felt at the moment, especially since he had just, well, made room a few minutes earlier. The idea of asking for a meal, a real meal, grew more appealing upon seeing a pamphlet dangling from a nearby hook. It proved to be a room service menu, giving a list of common meals the kitchens could be asked to prepare, only adding to his growing hunger.

Gallus recalled Twilight saying last night they were free to use whatever they needed in the room during their stay, but he wasn’t sure that really included room service. But then, not certain of any reason why he couldn’t, since he and Spike would probably be staying here long enough to need meals, he decided to put it to the test anyway. Switching “Mute” to off, he was rewarded with a soft click and a faint puff of air as a hidden mechanism opened up the tube for use. He then switched on “Kitchens” and was rewarded with another click followed by a faint whistle noise. He initially wasn’t sure why, but reasoned it must have been to alert the kitchen staff that someone was on the line because a moment later he heard a voice answer from the other end.

“Hello?” the voice of a mare spoke through the tube.

“Uh, hi,” Gallus responded into the speaking tube sheepishly and somewhat unprepared. “Is, uh, is this the kitchens?” He immediately wanted to facepalm after he said that. Of course it’s the kitchens, you idiot, that’s what you set it to!

The mare was unperturbed though. “Yes it is!” she confirmed helpfully. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, well, okay,” Gallus blundered along, trying to get his thoughts together. “So, uh, I’m staying in the princess’s private quarters, and uh…wait, you know about that, right?”

“Yes, Princess Twilight did alert us of the situation,” the mare assured with a very understanding level of patience.

“Oh good,” Gallus said with a breath of relief. He picked up the menu pamphlet again, looking it over. “So, uh, I found this menu thing in here and am I correct in assuming that means I can ask for some kind of meal to be delivered?”

“You certainly are!” the mare replied. Gallus wondered if she was asked questions like this on a regular basis because she certainly seemed practiced at doing so with an audible smile on her face. “Was there something in particular you wished to ask for? And will that just be a meal for you or for the both of you?”

Gallus remembered Spike still in the bathroom and thought ordering a meal they both could share might be fun. “Well, I could check,” he said, starting to turn from the tube before stopping himself. “Uh, you mind waiting just a second while I go do that?”

“Not at all! I’ll be right here waiting.”

Gallus nodded (even though the mare obviously couldn’t see that) and, switching “Mute” back on as a precaution, he went over to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Hey, Spike?”

“What’s up?” Spike called back through.

“I’ve got the palace kitchens on the speaking tube thing, and they tell me we can have them bring some breakfast. I wanted to know if you were interested.”

“Sure! Tell them I’d like some gem pancakes heavy on the syrup and an egg muffin. They know how I like them.”

“I’ll tell them,” Gallus assured and went back to the speaking tube, switching it back off of “Mute” and resumed speaking. “Okay, yeah, you still there?”

“Yup!” the mare affirmed.

“Okay then, we do want two meals, one should be gem pancakes heavy on the syrup with an egg muffin, and the other…” Gallus thumbed through the menu pamphlet in his talons for a second. His eyebrows went up when he found an unexpected section within. “Wait, I could order something with fish in it?”

“Yes, we’re equipped to prepare meals to the tastes of various visiting dignitaries when needed, which includes some fish based meals,” the mare reported.

“Okay then, in that case, I’ll…I’ll have the poached cod and egg for my meal.” Gallus had never had cod poached before, let alone with egg, but it certainly sounded good to him.

“Right then!” the mare said before repeating back his order. Once Gallus had confirmed it was accurate, she continued on. “We can have that ready for you in a few minutes. Also! While you were away from the speaking tube, I was reminded of the princess requesting that, instead of delivering any meals to you, you join her in the private dining hall to eat with her there. Apologies for that inconvenience, but…”

“No, it’s okay, I’m sure she’s got a reason for it,” Gallus assured her and was, in fact, already considering a number of possibilities on what it could be. “We’ll see about heading down to the dining room as soon as we can.”

Of course, as he switched off the speaking tube again, he had no idea of just where this private dining hall was, let alone how to get there from here, but he was hoping Spike would know. He had to wait until Spike finished in the bathroom first, but that only took a couple more minutes.

“You ordered us breakfast then?” the dragon asked upon exiting said bathroom.

“Yup,” Gallus confirmed, “But apparently Twilight asked them to have us meet her in the private dining room to eat it.”

“Mm, probably wants to talk to us about the state of things,” Spike reasoned aloud.

“Probably, but I don’t know where that is or how to get there,” Gallus added. “So do you know the way?”

“Yeah,” Spike said with a nod, leading him to the door. “But that doesn’t really matter with us under protective custody, because we’ll probably have to be escorted there anyway.”

He pulled open one of the double doors and glanced outside. As there had been when they’d entered last night, two guards were attentively stationed on either side of it. However, the two guards that had been standing there last night had since been replaced by new ones, both wearing the familiar deep blue armor of the Night Guard. Both of them glanced at Spike and Gallus as they stepped into the doorway.

“Hey, Twilight wants us to join her for breakfast in the private dining room,” Spike explained to the closest of the two. “We okay to head down there?”

“Certainly,” the guard replied, nodding to the other and motioning them forward. “We’ll escort you there.”

“Told ya,” Spike said Gallus with a smirk as they started down the hallway, flanked by both guards.

“I’m not complaining,” Gallus responded, who wasn’t used to the protective attention but appreciated it anyway. “I get why Twilight would want to be so cautious, given circumstances.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Gallus eyed some of the sights they passed along the way. The hallways were relatively empty still, but there were clear signs the palace had been resuming work for the day as normal, despite circumstances.

“Did you sleep well?” Spike asked spontaneously.

“Yeah, I did,” Gallus replied, pleased that he had, “You?”

“Pretty good,” Spike likewise responded before wrinkling his brow, “Though I did have this weird dream.”

“Let me guess—about mad creatures chasing and trying to kill us?”

“No, actually,” Spike seemed just as surprised by that as Gallus was. “It was actually about…well, you know how I first met Thorax, right?”

“The king of the changelings?” Gallus quickly racked his friendship lessons. “Wasn’t that when you vouched in his defense when he came seeking shelter in the Crystal Empire?”

“Exactly, and that’s what I was doing in my dream. Except this time, instead of everybody trusting me at my word, they all refused to believe me and banished Thorax from Equestria. But because I wasn’t going to just stand there and do nothing, I chose to go with him. So we put on disguises, snuck onto a train and fled all the way west to Vanhoover, where we assumed new identities and proceeded to try and lay low, living a new life working in this books and stationary shop we got jobs at, all the while Twilight’s turning Equestria upside-down trying to find us.”

“Huh…almost sounds like the premise to some dramatic tale or something…”

“Maybe, but who’d ever want to hear a grief-filled story like that?”

They continued debating the narrative merits of Spike’s dream until they arrived at the dining hall in question, their guard escorts opening the doors ahead of them. Inside was a round table seated at which was Twilight Sparkle along with Gruff and Ditzy to her left and her two advisors, Kibitz and Raven, on her right. Twilight was alert and wearing a friendly smile, but she also looked ready to get to business. Gruff looked like he’d just woken up a few minutes earlier and was nursing a big mug of coffee, suggesting he’d been asked to join them rather than coming of his own volition. Nevertheless, he looked resolute enough to want to be awake for this.

Ditzy, meanwhile, bore the same chipper persona as always, though since Gallus had last seen her she had exchanged the more casual jacket and shirt she’d been wearing last night for more formal and official Night Guard armor and regalia. Her magicked eyepatch was in its usual place over her right eye, something Gallus now knew was a sure sign of her being in full Night Guard mode. By contrast, Raven was the friendliest face as she brightly smiled and gave Spike a welcoming wave. Kibitz, however, continued to be the most difficult for Gallus to read, as his reaction to their arrival consisted only of a slight raise of his eyebrow and a small, but professional, nod of acknowledgement in their direction.

All of it gave Gallus slight pause as he slowed his approach to the table. “…is something wrong?” he asked warily.

“Oh, no, no,” Twilight swiftly assured and motioned for him and Spike to sit. “We just have a lot to discuss.”

“Some of it is good news, even,” Ditzy added with a grin as she picked up a bran muffin from a plate of several other varieties of muffins and took a bite. Gallus supposed that was one character trait that definitely hadn’t just been part of her cover.

“…and the rest?” Spike meanwhile asked uncertainly, fearing the bad as he and Gallus sat down across the table from Twilight.

“Not really good or bad news,” Raven summarized, “Really more just…news. But that’s why the princess opted to have us all meet here, as that seemed like a good way to discuss it all while we ate.”

Speaking of, a pair of servants arrived as they spoke and delivered the requested plates of food to Spike and Gallus. Both looked pretty good, and Gallus’s stomach rumbled in approval just at the sight of it. But before he could even pick up a fork to dig in, Twilight snatched both plates with her magic and moved them across the table towards her. She then spent a good minute examining each dish in turn both by sight and by magical scan twice before she finally relinquished them back to their intended patrons.

“Don’t worry, both meals are fine,” she assured simply upon their inquiring glances.

“…fine how?” Gallus asked skeptically. “What was with all the scanning?”

“I was simply ensuring neither meal contained any foreign contamination that may otherwise cause bodily disruption upon consumption.”

Both Gallus and Spike stared at her blankly.

“She was making sure they weren’t poisoned,” Gruff summed up flatly before taking a long draught of his coffee.

“Wait…what?” Spike asked, now looking at his gem pancakes with alarm.

“If it helps, she did that with my coffee too,” Gruff added.

“She checked all of our meals,” Raven added, motioning to her own already empty plate.

“I know, I know, it’s probably just paranoia on my part,” Twilight admitted sheepishly. “But…after everything that’s happened and knowing we haven’t brought this affair to a definite close…I feel I can’t be too careful. These creatures managed to strike where I least expected them enough times already, so I am somewhat worried they will try it again.” Watching Gallus and Spike poke at their meals warily now, having lost faith in the food, she sighed. “But again, I’m hopefully just being paranoid. The meals are fine, I can promise you that.”

“Only after you gave them a strip search,” Gallus grumbled but relented and took a tentative bite of his poached cod. The meat was exquisitely savory and all but melted in his mouth, but it was only upon taking two or three bites without any ill effects that he started to relax and take the princess at her word.

“So…I trust you two slept well?” Raven prompted after a moment of the two eating their meals.

“Pretty good, yeah,” Spike replied after a second of thoughtfully considering the question, chewing on his pancakes. “I mean…all things considered. But how about you guys? How did you all sleep?”

“Not flipping long enough,” Gruff grouched before taking another swig from his mug.

“Mister Gruff, please,” Raven hissed, shooting the old griffon a sour look for his language, which was completely ignored.

Gallus knew it was a lost cause anyway and instead rolled with it. “Had an even later night than we did, huh?” he asked knowingly.

“We were very busy trying to get things sorted out,” Twilight replied.

“Not helped by the fact that new developments kept coming up all throughout,” Ditzy added, more amused than annoyed by the new topic. “But like Twilight said, it’s paying off.”

“At least a little,” Gruff relented but also somewhat downplaying.

“Well, after everything we’ve been through lately, it’s certainly good to hear that,” Gallus remarked, spearing another piece of his cod with his fork for emphasis.

“Speaking of,” Twilight tone began to show clear hesitation, “How are you two handling all of…this?”

Spike swallowed before replying. “It’s all still…kinda a lot to wrap my head around but…I think I’m… starting to?” He didn’t seem entirely certain. “But…”

“…finding out your parents were killed just because they were in a cross-species relationship isn’t something you can adjust to overnight,” Gallus finished. His tone as he said it was…mixed…and it frustrated him that he was frustrated about it. A part of him thought he should be coming to terms with this by now. “And that’s not even the most shocking part of all of this.”

“Mm, yes, there is the implication of you two being hybrids to consider as well,” Kibitz remarked with a hum, speaking for the first time since Gallus and Spike arrived.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. “Yeah…that too,” Spike agreed in a wooden voice. Gallus suspected that he, much like himself, hadn’t really been giving that matter as much thought but now the reminder of its implications wasn’t exactly helping. Spike bowed his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he stared at his half-eaten pancakes before continuing remorsefully. “I suppose that’s what helped get them killed too…wasn’t it?”

“What happened with Gwen and Spark wasn’t right,” Ditzy stressed seriously, in a tone suggesting it wasn’t open for debate. “And neither are these attempts to kill you two now. Neither should have happened in any way, and no one here should be feeling okay about it because it’s not.”

“And we’re not saying it is,” Gallus stressed. “For Grover’s sake, of course we’re not…it’s just…” he trailed off, unable to put it into words, and heaved a heavy sigh. He felt like he was getting dragged down by the subject still.

“We understand, Gallus,” Twilight contributed when Gallus didn’t continue. She then paused awkwardly, looking a little guilty. “Honestly…the real shocking part is it happening at all managing to escape our notice for so long.”

Another awkward silence fell among the group, broken only by Gallus and Spike continuing to eat their meals with a bit less gusto now that the mood had gotten so much heavier.

Eventually, Gallus decided to change the subject. “So anyway,” he prompted as he motioned for the others to get on with it, waving his fork at them. “What are these new developments you mentioned?”

“Well, shall we begin with the good news?” Twilight offered, likewise eager for something more positive as she pulled out some notes and tapped them neatly on the edge of the table. “Perhaps starting with what Gruff also hasn’t heard yet so to make it worth his while, hmm?” She shot Gruff a teasing look.

Gruff just let out a mumbled growl and waved for her to continue.

“Put succinctly then,” Twilight continued, flipping to a specific page of her notes while keeping her gaze on Gruff, “Ember has gotten back to me about your dragon suspect, Rhyolite.”

This indeed drew Gruff’s interest, who perked up along with Spike and Gallus. “…and?” Gruff prompted.

“Apparently there’s a track record amongst the dragons for trouble caused by Rhyolite,” Twilight explained while referring to her notes. “That’s mostly how Ember had already heard of him—his reputation preceded him.”

“So he is a real creature then,” Kibitz confirmed tonelessly. Gruff shot him annoyed look for his implied doubting.

Twilight nodded. “According to Ember, he often used his trade as a printer, producing hardcopy messages or texts for other dragons, to distribute inflammatory opinions on varying subjects regardless of whether or not they were based in fact. She also confirms that recovered copies of these opinion pieces prove he spread ridicule and venom towards Spark specifically, and that former Dragon Lord Torch long suspected him of being the prominent ringleader of it, using his printing skills to distribute propaganda so to organize dragons against Spark.”

“Okay, so let’s snag this guy and grill him for what he knows,” Gallus suggested, tapping his fork resolutely on his plate as he said it. “Clearly he’s gotta be involved at least a little.”

“Just because he sported a negative opinion towards the dragon Spark doesn’t necessarily mean he was involved in his death,” Kibitz reasoned logically, glancing in Gallus’s direction. “Nor is it definite proof that he’s directly involved in the attempts on your own lives now.”

“And Kibitz has a point,” Ditzy agreed with a reluctant nod. “Just because he happens to fit the role of the culprit doesn’t actually make him one.”

“But surely bringing him in for questioning is still a good idea, if just to confirm one way or another, right?” Gruff challenged before glancing in Twilight’s direction. “Assuming the dragon lord hasn’t already done it herself?”

“I’m sure she’d love to,” Twilight said but let out a sigh. “But she can’t.”

“And why not?” Gruff asked hotly.

Twilight looked him in the eye. “Rhyolite, unfortunately, is dead. He died of old age nearly six years ago, so he can’t possibly be involved in the conspiracy we face now.”

Gruff, frustrated, slapped the table loudly while the mood around the table drooped with this unfortunate news.

But Twilight wasn’t finished. “His son Diorite, however…”

The mood swiftly perked up again. Even the stoic-faced Kibitz seemed surprised by this announcement. “Rhyolite has a son?” Spike repeated, intrigued.

Twilight nodded. “And apparently, Diorite inherited all of Rhyolite’s possessions, including his trade as a printer, having continued it in his father’s stead. Ember further says that while he’s quieter than his father, he definitely shares nearly all of the same opinions, making it likely he takes similar issue with cross-species relations too.”

“Yes, but can we prove he’s in anyway involved with all of this?” Raven prompted, remembering Kibitz’s earlier point.

“Ember had the same thought and met with Diorite so to try and find out,” Twilight explained. She tapped her notes with one hoof. “She explains how she did it in great detail in her letter, but to summarize, she approached him in his cave and simply asked if he knew anything about the conspiracy.”

Gruff scoffed. “I’m sure he denied any involvement on the spot.”

“Oh, naturally,” Twilight agreed. “But never let it be said that Ember isn’t crafty, because when he did, she casually got him talking about his thoughts on it instead…up until he let slip his support for the attacks on Spike and Gallus.”

Slowly, a smirk formed on Gallus’s beak as he understood. “Oh, that cunning little dragon,” he breathed in approving awe.

“…little?” Spike hissed, shooting Gallus a glance. “Have you seen Ember?”

“Better—Smolder’s told me how much bigger her parents are, and they aren’t even the biggest full grown dragons around,” Gallus pshawed with a smirk. “Ember’s tiny in comparison.”

“Anyway,” Twilight continued, ignoring their banter, “once caught in his words, Ember cut the games and ordered he submit to a search for any clues of his involvement, not really giving him a choice in the matter. Though Diorite has refused to admit his guilt, she’s found sufficient evidence to incriminate him of secretly relaying messages between conspirators for coordinating plans and attacks, which I have verified.” Twilight pulled out two slips of paper, sliding one into the center of the table so all of the others could see too. “As Kibitz and Raven will recall, we found this note among Gene Type’s belongings while searching his office. It strongly appears to pertain to the plan trying to determine Gallus and Spike’s true lineage but nothing truly incriminating.”

Everyone leaned closer so to read the message, typewritten in plain and unremarkable lettering so to make it seem as generic as possible. It said:











Spike scratched at his temple. “Out of context, it really doesn’t tell you much, does it?” he reasoned aloud. “You can’t even be sure it is talking about me or Gallus specifically.”

Twilight nodded. “Part of the reason why we were frustrated at the time we found it, because it didn’t really tell us anything new let alone explain what was going on.” She then pushed the second paper forwards so it lay next to the first. “But now Ember’s sent us this note.”

Typewritten in identical plain and unremarkable lettering, this note read:














Gruff snorted. “And there are the true colors of these fools,” he mumbled, scowling at the blatantly more obvious nefarious intent.

“The printing method matches that of the first message almost exactly,” Twilight explained as the others took in the implications. “Even down to the unique mechanical imperfections of the typewriter it was produced with, proving both were printed with the same one. Ember says she found it in a discreet corner of Diorite’s workspace and surmised it was a spare or backup copy in case the original copy failed to reach its destination. She did not find anything to suggest where it would be sent, but she found the materials needed to send it by firebreath, and given the clear context, it was almost certainly for Gene Type.”

“So that’s it then,” Gallus concluded. “Diorite’s definitely involved in all of this.”

Twilight nodded. “And we’ve got him. Ember’s keeping him detained until he can be extradited into our custody.”

“At which point I intend to question the hay out of him,” Ditzy promised resolutely, “and get whatever other information I can out of him.”

“Ember has also promised to give us all of Diorite’s work belongings for examination, in case there are any other clues hidden among them that she’s missed, which I’m hoping there are,” Twilight added. “I don’t want to leave any stone unturned or anything to chance on this, which leads me to my other bit of good news.” She grinned optimistically, surveying everyone at the table. “I’ve continued to be in contact with Lord Gestal with due caution,” she emphasized that bit before Gruff could voice any misgivings, “and he has been nothing but cooperative throughout. He is, in fact, frankly horrified that a griffon of such high rank and standing like Commodore Garrett would not only be conspiring behind the backs of the griffon lords but also secretly plotting the murder of innocent creatures, let alone stage a direct attack on the embassy of a prominent and important ally to the Griffon Kingdom.”

“Actions speak louder than words though,” Gruff pointed out though, still skeptical.

“Indeed, we know full well Gestal could always just be telling us what we want to hear,” Raven agreed reassuringly.

“And to his credit, Gestal knows that,” Twilight added. “So to prove his allegiance, he has sworn his full cooperation with our investigation. To that end, he has secured Garrett’s office and sealed it off from any outside access, so to shield all clues hiding within from tampering. Like Ember has with Diorite’s things, he’s agreed to turn over everything in that office to us. Considering what we found among both Gene Type and Diorite’s things, this leads me to believe at least a few clues could be awaiting us within.”

“Well, that’s great,” Spike said, brightening considerably. “With a little luck, this’ll all be enough to figure out how deep this conspiracy goes.”

“And hopefully put an end to it finally,” Gallus added, more interested in achieving that goal, though he too was heartened by this metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.

“First, however,” Kibitz interjected here, “we need to get our hooves on all of this evidence before any examinations can begin, and currently both are far outside our borders.” He turned to Twilight. “Your highness, to that end, shall I arrange for the Royal Guard to go and collect these items?”

Ditzy shook her head. “No need,” she explained. “The Night Guard has dispatched two Night Guard airships to both locations and are already well on their way there. They should be over the Celestial Sea by now.”

Kibitz eyes bulged, stunned. “You…you have?” he asked, clearly not aware. “When did you do this?”

“I asked Ditzy to make the necessary arrangements almost immediately after I got the final confirmations from Ember and Gestal since she was already nearby at the time,” Twilight quickly intervened. “So don’t worry, the Night Guard is acting completely at my request.”

“And you did not inform me of this, your highness?” Kibitz pressed, bothered he’d been left out of the loop.

“Time was of the essence,” Twilight replied, not appearing to understand the issue. “I didn’t want to wait and we were about to meet to discuss it here and now anyway, so I figured I could fill you in then.”

“…unless there’s a problem with all that?” Ditzy pointedly asked, sensing Kibitz’s obvious discontent over this.

And knowing she was taking offense, Kibitz attempted to placate. “I did not mean to question the capabilities of you or your cohorts, lieutenant commander,” he began tactfully. “I simply think that…given circumstances…”

Ditzy decided she didn’t want to hear the rest. “Sure sounds like you’re questioning the capabilities of the Night Guard,” she interrupted darkly. Though Gallus chose to stay out of it, he secretly had to agree—Kibitz didn’t seem to care for the recent favoring of Equestria’s special forces faction.

Raven seemed to think similarly. “Kibitz, this has already been discussed,” she told him in an apparent attempt to stop the impending argument. “The Night Guard is the one equipped and trained explicitly for situations such as this.”

“That does not mean them exclusively heading the investigation is also the correct choice,” Kibitz replied a little hotly, shooting Raven a small glare. “It is not like the Royal Guard isn’t just as equipped or capable of assisting in this affair too. Given what happened, they should’ve been involved from the start and maybe helped to prevent all of this now.”

“I know that, but as I already explained before, Kibitz,” Twilight interjected here, confirming in the process that this hasn’t been the first time the topic’s been broached, “the Night Guard arguably had jurisdiction from the start and already proven themselves trustworthy…”

“So far as has been demonstrated,” Kibitz reminded. “I understand there have been compromised associates of the Royal Guard in this already, but that does not mean the whole of it is now enemies nor that the Night Guard is any more immune to such compro—”

Ditzy suddenly slammed her hooves on the table and furiously stood, pulling everyone’s attention onto her. “Just admit it, Kibitz!” she snapped at him, done mincing words. “You don’t trust us! You don’t trust ME! Worse, your reasons why are because of mere stereotypes that don’t have any real basis on reality and I am sick of it!”

“Ditzy…” Twilight attempted to intervene, reaching out with one hoof.

Ditzy swatted it away. “Don’t pretend this isn’t infuriating you to Tartarus also!” she said to the princess then, before Twilight could recover from the outburst, the pegasus whirled back onto Kibitz. “Like your thoughts on it matter anyway, Kibitz, because it’s not your call to make!”

“Perhaps not!” Kibitz replied, raising his own voice. “But I worry the secretive Night Guard will not be upfront enough when it comes time to…”

“We keep secrets only for everyone else’s protection!” Ditzy again interrupted. “And I can’t tell you just how many of us actually hate it, because we don’t want to have to! The moment we don’t anymore, we stop, which applies here too because we have withheld nothing from anyone sitting at this table since the moment Gene Type went rogue and have likewise shared everything we knew about it as soon as we could!” She slammed her hoof onto the table again. “Dang it, Kibitz, one of our own has already died because of all this, so I don’t take kindly to your implicating we shouldn’t be included when it most certainly involves us as much as everyone else here!” She narrowed her uncovered eye darkly at the unicorn. “If you can’t stop your biases from interfering, then to be frank, you are no better than the biased creatures that killed Gwen and Spark to begin with.”

That cold statement hung heavily over the table for a long moment. Going from his stern expression, it was clear to Gallus that Kibitz not only still wasn’t swayed but also took issue with Ditzy’s words. But, seeing he’d nevertheless crossed a line he shouldn’t have and not wanting to instigate a major fight over it, he backed down, dropping the matter while resettling himself in his seat. When he did, Ditzy likewise thumped back into her own seat and immediately stuffed another muffin into her mouth, apparently needing the comfort food so to cool off.

Gruff glanced between the two ponies with his good eye for a moment, waiting to see if they’d start back up again. “We’re getting off topic,” he reminded sternly when they didn’t.

Twilight nodded and reshuffled her notes once more. “Quite,” she agreed, taking a deep breath before continuing like the dispute hadn’t happened. “In any case, airships have been dispatched to retrieve the new evidence and, if all goes as planned, they should be back with it before the end of the day.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?” Gallus asked, thankful to be getting away from the argument.

“In the meantime, we continue to try and learn what we can about all of this,” Twilight said and motioned a gentle hoof towards Gallus and Spike. “Given all the evidence we’ve found supporting it, I’m sure you two would like to know everything you can about your lineage, correct?”

Gallus glanced in Spike’s direction who glanced back. They seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “…I suppose I would like to know more, yes,” Spike admitted slowly, his cautious tone managing to sum it up for Gallus too.

“I’d like to know how Equestria managed to get their grubby hooves on Spike’s egg in the end,” Gruff grumbled. “There must be a reason for it, given everything else that happened.”

Twilight held up a hoof and started sorting through her notes again. “Actually, I wondered the same thing, so since she was still in power at the time, I sent a letter asking Celestia about it.” Withdrawing the former princess’s response from her papers, Twilight skimmed over it quickly. “She admits that she doesn’t recall anything meaningful about Spark’s asylum request, probably because he never turned up to meet with her about it, and since she otherwise had so little involvement in it all, she fears there’s not much she could tell us. But she can confirm that Spike’s egg was turned over to palace authorities by a traveling merchant, who claimed to have found it tucked between two boulders while traveling.” She looked to Gruff. “Gruff, if I can ask this of you, about where did you find Spark’s…remains?”

Gruff furrowed his brow slightly, not seeing how it connected, but he pondered the question for a second. “Near the mountains a few miles inland from Baltimare,” he recalled finally. “Why?”

Twilight pulled out a small map of Equestria, holding it out for Gruff to see. “So right around here then?” she asked, pointing with her hoof.

Gruff leaned closer, squinting his eyes at the map before nodding. “Pretty much—it was basically in the middle of nowhere, at least.”

Twilight looked at the map herself, a faint grin forming on her lips. “Not quite,” she said and motioned to a thin line that ran close to but not over the spot Gruff indicated. “As it happens, a notable trade route runs past that same general area, traveled by merchants going back and forth transporting their goods.”

“Explains how that one merchant happened to be around to find Spike’s egg,” Gallus reasoned aloud, looking at the princess. “Do you think he saw anything of who attacked Spark?”

“Doubtful,” Ditzy admitted, having started in on yet another muffin. “If what little we know about these attackers is true, they were professional enough to wait until they were sure no one else could’ve glimpsed it.”

“Besides, it was too far away from this trade route for anyone to have easily seen it,” Gruff added, likewise doubtful.

“That’s actually what I’m getting at though,” Twilight said. “The attack may have happened away from the route, but traveling in the direction he was, Spark had almost certainly flown over it some moments before.”

Gallus abruptly sat up, understanding. “You think Spark deliberately hid Spike’s egg there, don’t you?” he surmised.

Twilight nodded. “And he hid it there specifically in hopes a passing merchant would find it and take it somewhere safe if he couldn’t come back for it.” She lowered her head slightly, solemn. “I can only speculate as to his exact reasons, but my best guess is that he suspected danger, so…”

“…so he did it to protect me, make sure whatever harm that might happen to him didn’t also happen to me,” Spike murmured, his gaze distant as the implications sank in. Gallus, understanding all too well what it felt like, draped a comforting wing over him by way of reassurance.

Gruff let out his breath in a slow whoosh, his gaze also far away. “Those two would’ve done anything for you,” he mumbled, glancing at Gallus and Spike. “Even put themselves in the line of fire for you.”

Raven visibly winced. “I just wish they didn’t have to,” she remarked. “Then maybe things could’ve been different.”

“At least they kept these nutjobs from completely succeeding at their goals,” Ditzy added, trying to point out what upsides she could. “And in so doing, have given us a fighting chance to get them some long overdue justice.”

Gallus, however, couldn’t help but regard the stumbling blocks still standing in their way. “It’s not going to happen unless we can figure out who everyone involved was,” he pointed out.

“Or who the nutjobs were that attacked Spark,” Gruff added before leveling his gaze at Twilight, “particularly how they were involved with the Equestrian military, regardless of what faction it was.”

“That’s one of my big concerns as well,” Twilight agreed and glanced at Ditzy. “Have you managed to find out anything new on that?”

“Not as of yet,” Ditzy admitted, “but I’m set to meet with a few key contacts so to discuss it today, which I can do while we’re waiting for Diorite and the rest of the new evidence to arrive.” She shifted positions before continuing. “In the meantime, whoever they were, they likely were part of the Royal Guard at some level, because it seems clear that despite whatever suspicions Spark may or may not have held, he was still taken off guard when they fired their killing shot, as well as how they had access to the level of equipment used to do it.” She bit her lip. “The real implication that worries me though is that whoever those attackers were, they were almost certainly just the hired help.”

“Which means there is someone still higher up the chain giving the orders,” Kibitz concluded swiftly. “Someone who, as I understand it, we have no meaningful clues about their identity…correct?”

There was some head-shaking all around the table.

“Whoever they are, they must really hate hybrids,” Spike grumbled, wrapping his arms around himself, though whether it was out of self-comfort or annoyance, it wasn’t quite clear.

“More likely they see hybridization as unnatural,” Kibitz offered in an apparent attempt to be helpful, though it wasn’t really. “It would at least give the motivation to go to these lengths trying to…discourage it…from happening.”

“Doesn’t make it feel any better, dude,” Gallus sassed, shooting Kibitz a look, though he assumed Kibitz didn’t mean anything by it…probably.

“It’s a foolish cause anyway, this anti-hybridization attitude,” Twilight then contributed. “Historically, cross-species hybridization isn’t new—the natural magic of the world allows it to happen more easily than most think, according to research. It’s just not very common because there’s still something of a lingering taboo to it. But despite the stigma and fears surrounding it, hybridization is mostly harmless more often than not, so long as the resulting offspring is viable. There’s no real reason to oppose it with violence like this except out of an aversion to anything perceived as…different…as these sorts of things always seem to be.” Seeing Gallus and Spike both flinch slightly at her choice of words, she quickly backpedaled. “Not that different is a bad thing, of course. It’s our differences which make us special, after all.” Twilight then rolled her eyes. “For that matter, we can make the technical argument that most ponies are hybrids in a way, at least in the sense of interbreeding between tribes.”

“That’s true,” Raven agreed. “My father’s family line was mostly earth ponies, but the other side of my family were usually pegasi or unicorns.” And so to prove it, she motioned to her own unicorn horn.

“I’m half-unicorn myself,” Ditzy also offered, “Though admittedly it’s more obvious with my sister than me.”

“…you have a sister?” Gallus asked, raising a surprised eyebrow at the mare. Ditzy didn’t reply though.

“And my own grandfather was a pegasus,” Twilight likewise offered. “The point being is that there’s no need to feel ostracized just for being of mixed breeding.”

“With respect, your highness,” Kibitz said, “I am not sure your example is quite the same thing.”

“He’s right,” Spike agreed. “This goes a little beyond having families of more than one tribe.”

“Fair,” Twilight conceded with a sigh, “though that does bring me to one final point I want to discuss.” She gazed in Gallus and Spike’s direction. “I know we already have photographic evidence, an eyewitness account,” she motioned to Gruff, “and the bloodline stone to top it all off. But Gene Type had all of that too and yet he still felt obligated to do his own testing to confirm it. So, unless there’re any objections…I’d like to do the same with you two today.”

Gallus sighed, already starting to picture what that would probably entail. “I’m guessing that means seeing a whole bunch of pokey and prodding doctors, doesn’t it?” he asked wearily.

Twilight nodded sympathetically. “One of the things I was busy with last night was scrutinizing enough of the medical staff that could be entrusted with such a task without fear of them causing you harm, and I feel quite confident I have done so.” She again motioned in their direction. “So if you two feel up for it…”

“I also helped with the vetting and can back the princess up on that,” Ditzy volunteered, also looking in Gallus and Spike’s direction. “Personally, I think you two should, if just to get a better sense of what this may or may not entail now that you know about it.”

Spike shrugged, indifferent. “I guess that makes sense, so sure,” he concluded.

Gallus heaved a sigh, not quite so eager, but he also relented. “All right, I’ll humor you on this,” he said. “I suppose I would like to know how I can possibly be crossbred when I’ve only ever shown griffon traits.”

Twilight nodded, pleased they had agreed. “Ditzy and the other guards can escort you down in just a moment,” she said before surveying the table, noting that everyone had finished eating. It was around then that Gallus realized he’d finished his poached cod sometime back, but was so caught up in the conversation that he hadn’t noticed he’d cleared his plate. Twilight meanwhile gazed at everyone in turn. “Unless there was anything else anyone wanted to say before we adjourned?” she prompted.

Raven and Ditzy shook their heads no. “I don’t have anything to say that I wouldn’t rather discuss in private with you, your highness,” Kibitz remarked, which Twilight wordlessly signaled she’d taken note of before turning her attention to Gruff.

Gruff raised a brow back at her in response. “I’d prefer it if I can be kept involved with the happenings of all this somehow,” he remarked, “If just to appease myself that things are really under control like you claim.”

“I…don’t know if that’s really necessary, Gruff,” Twilight admitted.

But Ditzy pointed her hoof at him. “I can’t give you anything too major since you’re a civilian, but I think I can still come up with something for you,” she promised the elderly griffon. “I’ll talk to you about it after Gallus and Spike are seen to here in a second.”

Gruff, appeased, likewise nodded his consent and didn’t speak further. “Right then,” Twilight concluded, gathering her notes and rising from the table. “We’ll all meet up again once we have something more to report. Until then, I hope everybody has a better day today than we’ve had the past couple.”

“Hear, hear,” Gallus cheered sarcastically as they all got up to leave.

They proceeded to go their separate ways after that. Twilight was fairly quick to leave, which Gallus noticed seemed to disappoint Spike a little—the dragon had probably hoped to visit with the alicorn one-on-one for a bit. Gallus supposed he could sympathize with that, but also figured the princess had her hooves more than full with everything and too much to do to stop and chat. At least Gallus was fairly certain that Twilight probably wasn’t super happy about this arrangement either, but it was what it was.

Ditzy, however, was fully available and waiting to escort them to the medical staff for their examination (though Gallus still wasn’t super eager about it). So once they were ready, they headed off, with her leading the way and the two guards that’d escorted them down to the dining room protectively flanking them again. It was during the walk there that Gallus abruptly noticed something else different about Ditzy besides her change of attire, something he was shocked he’d failed to notice sooner.

“The heck happened to your wings?” he blurted out, staring at the mare’s wings, which were no longer feathered like before but now instead leathery and webbed, like bat wings. “I thought you were a pegasus!”

“Huh?” Ditzy initially grunted, not immediately understanding before extending a bat-like wing and caught on with a grin. “Oh that. Heh, no, rest assured, I am still a pegasus—the bat wings are just part of the uniform.” Seeing Gallus still didn’t understand, she demonstrated by unlatching the saddle-plate of her armor and lifting it just slightly off her body. The moment it no longer touched her back, the bat wings visibly flickered then shifted forms back into the feathered pegasi wings Gallus was more familiar with. “It’s an illusion spell on the armor,” she explained before Gallus could form any exclamations of surprise. She plopped the armor plating back in place and her wings immediately changed back to the bat-like shape. “It just makes my wings look like bat wings while I’m in uniform.”

Gallus furrowed his brow as he worked to process it. He chose to ignore Spike snickering on the sidelines, apparently already familiar with this quirk and thus finding his confusion humorous. “But…why?” he asked Ditzy.

“You have to keep in mind, the Night Guard was originally founded by bat ponies more than a thousand years ago,” Ditzy explained as she refastened her armor with one hoof, “Hence, of course, the name. As the centuries went by, other tribes of ponies started getting admitted too, but by then, the bat wings had become so iconic to the Night Guard it’d just become part of its look. So, with a bit of crafty magic placement, it was decided to make the bat wings…part of the uniform, like I said. I mean it does vary on the specific division—some sections of the guard don’t mandate it as much—but you get the idea. The Royal Guard uses something similar for their uniforms too. You didn’t think they all just happened to have the same coat colors, did you?”

Gallus averted his gaze and didn’t answer that question, since doing so wouldn’t exactly help him to save face at this point.

“Anyway, don’t fret about it,” Ditzy continued. “Every pegasus Night Guard gets asked that question at some point—comes with part of being one. And I suppose it makes sense, since the more famous Royal Guard is better known than the Night Guard is.”

“…is that why Kibitz was so troubled by the Night Guard being involved with all of this?” Spike cautiously asked.

Ditzy sighed. It was clear she didn’t really want to talk about it, but perhaps feeling they were owed an explanation, she continued anyway. “Look, for the record, I’m sorry for exploding about that earlier,” she started by reassuring. “And don’t get me wrong, Kibitz is a fine stallion who does his job well. He’s just…old and traditional, having started working here at the palace at a time where the Royal Guard was more the public face of Equestria’s military than the Night Guard.” She rolled her uncovered eye. “Honestly, I think most of the issue is just him being bothered about all of these…unfavorable…implications about the Royal Guard’s involvement in this conspiracy, making them the less favored group currently. And I can’t blame him for that, as it’s horrible that anyone associated with the guard, even a civilian contractor like Gene Type, could be involved in something like this.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s justified in opposing the Night Guard’s involvement though,” Gallus reasoned.

“Darn straight,” Ditzy readily agreed, but then forcing herself to look at it more subjectively, she also relented, “though I suppose he’s also right in that this doesn’t mean the whole of the Royal Guard is untrustworthy because of it, or that there can’t be any conspirators within the Night Guard either.” She fluttered her wings anxiously. “I just…didn’t like him talking smack about us when we haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

“Unfortunately, Spike and I can sort of relate currently,” Gallus mumbled, seeing the attempted attacks on themselves was similarly done out of unfounded and biased hatred.

Ditzy huffed at that. “I suppose you would,” she agreed before giving them a heartening glance. “But let’s see if we can still change that for ya.”

They continued on for the palace’s on-site medical facilities, which Gallus quickly realized upon arrival was somewhere between a doctor’s office and a miniaturized hospital. Since she was the one leading, Ditzy spoke with the desk clerk about what they were here for, the clerk having already been forewarned they were coming and was anticipating them, before they were directed to a particular pair of examination rooms where the planned testing would take place. Before entering, Ditzy turned to face them so to give some final instructions.

“Okay, this is where we’re going to have to split up again,” she explained to the pair. “For the sakes of your own privacies, the doctors will be examining each of you separately, so Spike will go in that examination room while Gallus goes in the other.” She straightened slightly. “I wish I could stay and oversee things, but like already discussed, I have other things I need to attend to, precautions I want to take, etcetera. But these two fine guards will be staying here, making sure no one tries anything funny with you like Gene Type had. Speaking of…” she turned her attention to the two Night Guards. “You two are to stay here and stand guard over these two creatures. No one is to enter their examination rooms while they’re here except for the approved medical staff, and when that staff does enter, I want a guard in the room with them. If anything untoward happens to either Spike or Gallus, or you suspect any creature approaching them of malicious intent, you are authorized to act however you feel necessary so to preserve their well-being and shield them from harm. Am I clear?”

The two guards jointly saluted. “Yes ma’am!” they chorused together.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” Ditzy nodded in approval before giving Gallus and Spike each reassuring pats. “Good luck, you two. I hope this helps settle whatever uncertainties you still have. See you later.” And with that, she trotted off.

Left with their guards then, waiting for them to proceed, Gallus and Spike turned to each other. “Well…guess I’ll see you once this all over,” Gallus remarked half-heartedly.

“Guess so,” Spike agreed, giving him a hopeful grin. “Hopefully these examinations go better than the last set we had.”

Gallus snorted in agreement. “Still not really looking forward to it, but yeah, I definitely hope you’re right,” he said. He hesitated a second then gave Spike a pat on the shoulder. “See you on the other side, then…hopefully with a few more answers for all of this.”

“Yeah, you too,” Spike agreed, reaching up to likewise pat Gallus’s paw.

He then turned and entered his assigned examination room, with one of the guards taking position at the door. Having seen the dragon safely into his room, Gallus took a deep breath and turned to enter the other. Inside were all of the usual things you’d expect to find in a doctor’s examination room. But there was no medical staff here yet, so, deciding it would probably be a moment, Gallus seated himself on the examination table, crinkling the protective paper covering it as he sat down, and proceeded to wait.
> Hybrids
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps predictably, Gallus was left waiting in the examination room for a while, which didn’t help with his nerves. He didn’t particularly like visiting doctors after all, though that was mostly because griffon doctors weren’t very reputable. Many worked solely for their own personal gain, extorting extreme amounts of money for their services, exploiting their patients for unethical medical experiments, or yet other abuse. But the most frequent complaint was simply shoddy or half-hearted treatments. A particular tale that liked to circulate was of how one doctor refused to treat a griffon suffering from a heart attack simply because he “wasn’t in the mood.” Gallus was uncertain whether this tale was really true or not, but even if it wasn’t, he had other examples he knew were.

A personal one had been in his pre-teens, after having dislocated a wing and relenting that he couldn’t correct it himself. But the doctor that treated it saddled Gallus with so much debt afterwards that he nearly starved paying it off by the deadline, even with Gus’s aide which he had by then. It was a miracle he succeeded at all considering he was still effectively a street urchin back then. He was confident the griffon hadn’t wanted him to in fact, so to have him spitefully punished for defaulting on his payments. And as if that wasn’t enough, this doctor had also thoroughly creeped him out. After later learning that same doctor proved to be a rapist, he was relieved the guy hadn’t also been a pedophile. All this was enough to convince him, like a lot of griffons, to try and treat his ails himself so to avoid ever having to do that again, even going as far as once enduring a bad case of the flu entirely on his own rather than have it treated.

But that was griffon doctors. Since coming to Equestria, he’d found he could trust their doctors better, having much more confidence they would actually do their jobs right. But Gallus still didn’t particularly enjoy the examinations, and with his faith in the profession being so low, he preferred avoiding them if he could. The recent debacle of Dr. Gene Type certainly didn’t help either, making him even more reluctant than usual. Still, in this instance, he couldn’t really avoid it if he wanted whatever answers could be had about his lineage. So he sat waiting, trying to boost his hope that doing this wouldn’t be a mistake.

Finally, the examination door opened to admit a very no-nonsense looking nurse. She was accompanied by the Night Guard assigned to safeguard him, but as he only took position next to the door so to silently observe the proceedings, Gallus turned his full attention onto the pale blue earth pony. “Hello,” she greeted more on automatic than with feeling as she consulted a clipboard in her hoof, “the doctors will be with you shortly to begin their tests, but before then I’m here to conduct a general physical.”

Gallus raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Hope you’ve brushed up on your griffon biology then,” he muttered, having doubts a pony would be well-versed on it.

“Griffon physiology, actually,” the nurse corrected pedantically before adding, “and I think you’ll find me adequately versed in the subject.” She then set down the clipboard and pulled out a blood pressure cuff. “Now, if you would give me your foreleg…?”

Gallus extended his right forelimb towards her. She wrapped the cuff around it just above his elbow before grasping the rubber bulb dangling from the cuff and giving it a few pumps, causing the cuff to inflate and squeeze his arm. She studied the readings on the attached gauge for a moment before releasing the pressure and started jotting something down on the clipboard with a curious hum.

“What?” Gallus asked, trying to see what she was writing. “What’s wrong?”

The nurse whisked the clipboard’s contents out of his view. “I’m just noting a few things for the reference of the doctors,” she assured without elaborating, exchanging the blood pressure cuff with a stethoscope. “That’s part of the whole point of this physical.”

“Yeah, but I’d still like to be kept in the loop,” Gallus grumbled, automatically exposing his chest so she could press the stethoscope over his heart. He flinched slightly at how cold it felt. “I didn’t come here just to be told nothing.”

“The doctor will be the one to give the final diagnosis,” the nurse pressed as she listened to his heartbeat. She made another hum and again proceeded to jot something down without explaining what or why to him. “My job is just to gather some of the information needed to make it.” She shifted the stethoscope over one of his lungs. “Now take in a deep breath and hold it.”

Gallus made an annoyed groan but obeyed. A moment later she asked him to breathe out again before doing this again with his other lung. She then circled around behind him and did it again, pressing the stethoscope to his back. Then, mildly surprising, she repeated it all a second time. This time when she went to jot down another note, her hum was accompanied with a faint furrowing of her brow.

“What?” Gallus demanded, taking notice. “What?”

“It’s probably nothing,” was the nurse’s unenlightening assurance, ignoring Gallus’s frustrated sputters as she then patted the top of the examination table. “Lie down on your back.”

Gallus begrudgingly conceded, exposing his belly to the nurse. She then proceeded to use her hooves to feel around his abdomen for any abnormalities. He was starting to see why they were doing the examination in relative privacy like this—clearly, parts of it were somewhat awkward. “Find anything interesting?” he groused after a moment of this.

“Nothing yet,” the nurse unhelpfully replied as she continued feeling around his insides. “Have you noticed any abnormalities to report?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“No unusual aches or pains?”

“Nope.”

“Are your bowels moving?”

“Well, they could move, but why would they want to leave when the place they’ve already got is rent-controlled with the utilities included and everything?” Gallus shot the nurse a cheeky grin.

The nurse only gave him a deadpan expression in response.

Gallus frowned, disappointed. “Yes, my bowels are moving,” he relented before adding out of annoyance, “Heck, you should’ve seen them move this morning.”

“A demonstration won’t be necessary,” the nurse flatly assured, finishing the abdominal check and continuing to jot things down without telling Gallus what. She then paused as if thinking it through a bit further, motioning for him to sit up again. “That is unless the doctors feel obtaining a stool sample is necessary.”

“Ew,” Gallus curtly replied as he obeyed.

The nurse picked up a penlight and, using her spare hoof to hold them open, examined each of his eyes. This time her hum was more approving, though Gallus was still annoyed she wasn’t telling him anything about what was getting noted down. “Seriously, since I’m the patient, is it really going to hurt anyone to tell me what it is you’re observing?” he asked.

“It would if one makes conclusions before getting all the data,” the nurse replied as she pulled out a tongue depressor. “Open your mouth and say ah.”

Gallus “ahhhed” at her with all his strength while she examined the inside of his mouth and throat. This time when she hummed it was followed up with an actual comment. “Gape color appears healthy,” she observed aloud, surprising Gallus that she knew this important indicator of griffon health since most ponies didn’t. She then squinted a little. “Throat seems to be mildly swollen though.”

“Ahhat’th abbably becath Ah wahh neahhlah thrangulahd jahth ha ahvannah befarh,” Gallus attempted to slur around the tongue depressor.

The nurse removed it and gave him a look. “What?”

“I said that’s probably because I was nearly strangled just the evening before,” Gallus repeated.

The nurse raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Gallus merely returned it, refusing to elaborate. So the nurse scoffed and went back to noting things down without comment. Once done, she moved behind him again. Gallus turned his head to try and follow her movements before being distracted by a faint snap ringing from his other side, sounding like someone clicking their talons. Confused, Gallus turned his head back around to investigate only for the nurse to shift positions and he heard the snapping sound again in his other ear. When he whipped his head around once more, he saw the nurse walking back to the clipboard to jot down more notes.

“Hearing’s good,” she remarked aloud, noticing his glance.

Gallus just looked at her hooves, confused. “How the heck did you make that sound with hooves?” he asked.

The nurse, however, refused to elaborate like he had for her and instead pressed on with the next step in the physical. “Next we’ll be taking your temperature.”

Gallus immediately chuckled. “Good luck with that,” he said snidely. He tapped the side of his beak with one talon. “Thermometers don’t really mix well with this.” Indeed, the last time the nurse at the School of Friendship tried, his beak had accidentally snapped off the end, destroying it.

“I am already aware conventional thermometers will not suffice,” the nurse replied. “The medical records your school nurse sent us made that especially clear. Fortunately, there’s more than one way to take a temperature.” She opened a nearby drawer and started rooting through it. “I have a rectal thermometer here we can use to—”

“NOPE!” Gallus vaulted himself off the examination table and towards the door, startling the guard still standing beside it.

But before he could close the gap, the nurse grabbed him by the tail tuff and yanked him to a halt. “Oh, no you don’t!” she said as she kept him from escaping. “I know this won’t be very pleasant but it’s got to be done, so the sooner we do it, the sooner we can get it over with.”

“Nooooo,” Gallus bemoaned as he was dragged back to the examination table.





At least the guard had the decency to avert his gaze for that part.

It also largely set the tone for the rest that followed. Once the nurse had finished torturing him (followed by another notable gap of waiting), Gallus was visited by multiple specialists in seemingly random order, all of whom gave him examinations pertaining to their specific field of expertise. So one doctor came in to give him an eye exam, another conducted a nose, throat, and ear exam, another for a hoof and paw exam, and so on. Each had their own unpleasantries and discomforts to it, and by the end of it all there weren’t many parts of Gallus’s body that hadn’t suffered some level of embarrassment. He was assured every time it was so to collect needed information, which he didn’t really doubt, and to their credit everyone still treated him with the expected level of care and caution…but it still didn’t make it any more enjoyable to experience.

Likewise, none of these specialists were griffons, meaning that even though they still knew their way around griffon physiology, they were clearly more used to handling pony patients than any other creature. In fact, all but one of the doctors belonged to some tribe of pony. The only one who wasn’t, admittedly standing out the most simply for that, was the tall and feline hoof and paw doctor—an immigrant from Abyssinia, or so was explained during his part of the examinations. Nevertheless, it still made Gallus feel a little like a fish out of water, being examined by creatures not the same species as he.

Then, whenever he wasn’t being poked and prodded by doctors, he was being poked and prodded by that darn nurse returning again and again to obtain some sample from him. The exact ones ultimately didn’t matter because, by the end, Gallus was pretty certain she’d taken one of everything possible, no matter how unpleasant or awkward it was. If it was something a sample could be taken of, she was there to take it. Even worse was when the nurse came back to take another sample of the same thing due to some new unspecified detail having come up and needing further study. Pretty soon, Gallus was getting rather sick of it.

“Some more blood, Gallus,” he mumbled aloud to himself while the nurse took the latest round of samples. “A needle won’t hurt, Gallus. Roll over, Gallus. Breathe deeply, Gallus. Blood sample, Gallus—marrow sample, Gallus—skin sample, Gallus…” He huffed. “If…if I live long enough…I’m going to run out of samples.”

“You’ll live,” the nurse assured him nonchalantly.

“Oh yes, I’ll live,” Gallus was forced to agree. “But I won’t enjoy it.”

Also in-between all of this was Gallus being escorted into another room so to magically scan his body and, as the operator conducting the scans put it, “steal a peek inside.” However, like all those notes that darn nurse wouldn’t let him see, he barely even glimpsed any of the resulting images. So for him, the scans were little more than him being told to contort his body around for long periods of time while the operator got the desired images. That said, he did get word of Spike enduring these same tests around this time—as Gallus was leaving, the scan operator asked an assistant to have the dragon come in next. Hopefully that meant Spike was persevering through all the hassle, because he sure as heck was having a time trying to.

Finally, though, after it seemed like he’d suffered every medical related indignity imaginable, it was over. He was informed that a doctor would talk with him about the results shortly and was left, once again, to wait in the examination room. This time he didn’t have to wait as long before the door opened and the guard escorted in another doctor, this one a bat pony stallion slate grey in color and with a jet black mane. Gallus presumed he was affiliated with the Night Guard, hence why he was entrusted with this task—the Night Guard wanted someone seen as one of their own doing this. And Gallus appreciated that thought…though he couldn’t help but remind himself Gene Type had been similarly affiliated with the Royal Guard and that hadn’t stopped him from trying to attack.

This pony, however, didn’t act like Gene Type had and instead approached professionally. “I imagine you’ve been waiting long enough by now, hmm?” he began by quipping with a grin before moving on to the introductions. “I’m Dr. Shade Star. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gallus.”

“…thanks?” Gallus replied uncertainly as he shook the pony’s proffered hoof.

“Well then, let’s not beat about any longer and get right into it,” Shade then proceeded, holding up a clipboard presumably filled with the many test results. He started to pull out the topmost paper. “I hope you find all this helpful. We’ve at least learned quite a bit about your physiology.”

“Admittedly,” Gallus said as he accepted the paper Shade handed him, “I’m just hoping it settles a few lingering doubts.”

“I think we can safely say it has then,” Shade motioned to the paper he just handed him. “That paper discusses your blood test results. Note the section concerning your genetic lineage.”

Gallus held up the paper so to skim over its contents. Most of it was very technical medical terms he didn’t totally understand beyond indications that, for the most part, the results were fairly normal. However, a little more than halfway through the document, it read: “LINEAGE: 43% DRAGON, 57% GRIFFON.” Gallus felt his heart tense as he stared at the words, chasing away any remaining doubt he could’ve still had. Not that he had much at this point given all the other evidence, but to still see it printed in black and white gave it a surreal level of definitiveness.

He swallowed. “I guess that’s that then,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m a hybrid.”

“Indeed,” Shade agreed with a sympathizing nod. “If it helps though, that makes you an exceedingly unique creature, genetically speaking.”

The compliment only helped a little, given the magnitude of the reveal. Gallus took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “…and Spike?” he braved asking.

Shade motioned to another portion on the paper. “Without a doubt your sibling by blood,” he replied as Gallus skimmed the relevant section affirming as such. “Given your personal histories, it is actually somewhat miraculous you both managed to cross paths again after being separated for so long.” He grinned encouragingly. “Clearly, fate has been favoring you greatly.”

“Hopefully that continues then,” Gallus muttered under his breath, thinking of the repeated attempts on his and Spike’s lives. He then frowned as he processed all the implications, lowering the paper. “So, wait…if I’m a hybrid, how come I still look like a full-blooded griffon?”

“A quirk of this sort of genetic hybridization,” Shade explained patiently. “In fact, under normal circumstances, a dragon and a griffon probably couldn’t crossbreed this successfully if it weren’t for the world’s natural magic making up some of the difference. But by so doing, it causes traits from one side of your lineage to effectively cancel out if similar traits on the other side are more dominant or simply take seed before the first can, otherwise both traits would negatively clash.”

“…meaning?” Gallus prompted, not sure he was following.

“Basically, the core traits of your outward physiology are mostly determined by which side of your genetic lineage ends up the most dominant.”

“But according to this I’m half-and-half, aren’t I?”

“Mathematically, not quite—if you were truly evenly fifty-fifty griffon and dragon, you likely wouldn’t have been successfully conceived, even with natural magic nudging things, because both sides of your genetic lineage would fully cancel each other out, producing no viable zygote.” Gallus swallowed uncomfortably again at how close he might’ve not come to existing altogether. Shade continued. “So while you’re fairly close to fifty-fifty genetics, you aren’t truly. Your griffon-half is slightly more dominant by about fourteen percent, making it the genetic side manifesting the most traits. Ergo you appear, at a glance, fully griffon while leaving your dragon traits more recessive and thus not as visible or obvious.”

Gallus ran that all through his head for a moment. “I assume it’s the reverse for Spike then?” he asked.

Shade nodded. “Spike is even more closely split at only a four percent difference, but his dragon-half still proved the more dominant, thus making his appearance draconic like how yours is griffon.”

Gallus continued to mull it over for a moment, looking down at his claws. “Huh,” he mumbled, almost disappointed. “Guess that means I missed out on getting any cool draconic traits,” he mumbled only semi-seriously.

“Ah, but that’s where this all gets a little complicated,” Shade instead corrected, stepping around the cot Gallus sat on. “Because you may appear fully griffon, but I never said you didn’t have some draconic traits. That’s what the rest of these tests were spent determining.”

Gallus perked up at that, simultaneously surprised, intimidated, and intrigued. “…really?” he asked with hesitation, as if afraid asking would somehow change it.

“Quite,” Shade confirmed with an amused chuckle. He stepped over to where a small and flat platform only a couple inches tall and big enough for a single creature to stand upon sat on the floor—Gallus hadn’t really paid it any attention the whole time he’d been in the examination room. “The easiest way would be to show you…with your permission, of course.”

Gallus turned himself around so to stay facing the bat pony. “Sure, why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

“Well, it’s just that some creatures find this a little…unsettling,” Shade explained as he used his hoof to tap a concealed control on the platform.

The platform started humming before a swirling mass of magical energy formed above it. It shifted, grew, and changed shape and color repeatedly before finally settling into a complete three-dimensional recreation of Gallus himself in full figure, standing normally on all fours and staring straight ahead.

“Whoa!” Gallus breathed in awe, hopping off of the cot and moving closer so to have a better look.

“This is what all those imaging scans we took were for,” Shade explained while watching Gallus circle his magical doppelganger, taking in the sight. “This way, we can recreate your own anatomy down to the finest of details for easy viewing, seeing details you wouldn’t be able to very easily on your actual body. Like I said though, some creatures are unnerved to see a duplicate of themselves like this and it does take a bit of getting used to.”

Gallus, however, took in this duplicate with more curiosity than discomfort. Shade wasn’t kidding about the high level of detail it used, because while the duplicate image just stood there, not reacting to anything around it, it was also no static image. The duplicate still made all of the same small little motions expected of a griffon idly standing in place. A feather shuffle here, a tail twitch there—the duplicate’s chest even visibly rose and fell as if breathing. Gallus waved one paw in front of its eyes, noting that while it otherwise didn’t react, its pupils still reflexively dilated as if shifting its focus from the room’s far wall to the paw waving in front of its beak.

“Huh,” Gallus hummed, impressed, before with a cheeky grin he made a pair of finger guns at the duplicate. “Hey there, good-looking!”

The duplicate idly blinked and continued to be unfazed by its surroundings.

“Anyway,” Shade continued, rolling his eyes at Gallus’s antics, “with this I can show you your body’s more hidden draconic traits that you’ve probably never noticed.”

“Okay,” Gallus said, finally pulling his attention away from the novelty of his duplicate and back on the doctor again, “like what?”

“For starters, your feathers,” Shade began, motioning with his clawed wingtip at the duplicate’s feathered wings.

Gallus glanced back at the feathers of his left wing, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “What about them?”

“Well, anatomically, they’re like the feathers of any other griffon and clearly still function in the same way,” Shade explained. “However, we found additional minerals in their structure besides the normal keratin, minerals normally found in the scales of dragons.”

“Wait, really?” Gallus asked, glancing from the duplicate’s feathers then at his own.

“Oh yes, though it makes sense. Scales would’ve grown instead of feathers had you been a full-blood dragon, so it makes sense your feathers, the next best thing, would share some traits with them.” Shade then motioned to the duplicate’s talons. “A similar story for your talons—they bear comparable minerals found in dragon claws but generally not griffon talons.”

Gallus held up one paw, studying the long and pointed talons protruding from the tips he’d never really thought that hard about before. “So…what does that mean?”

“Mostly that both are more resilient and durable than they’d be for the average griffon,” Shade explained with a friendly grin. “In fact, if you were eating a more draconic diet, that reinforcing might even continue to develop, further adding to their resiliency.” He motioned to the duplicate’s talons again. “Theoretically, you might even be able to dig through stone like a dragon with those talons.”

Gallus’s eyes bulged slightly and again regarded his talons in awe. He had a hard time envisioning that idea, but then again he couldn’t say he’d ever tried before. Why would he? A normal griffon couldn’t dig through something as tough as stone without injuring themselves, and he previously had no reason to think it’d be any different for himself.

“And like I said, that’s just for starters,” Shade repeated, noting Gallus’s amazement. He stepped back to motion at what appeared to be a small flap of skin just above the duplicate’s hip. “This, for example, appears to be an underdeveloped muscular pouch.”

“That’s a pouch?!” Gallus exclaimed in shock, twisting around to grab at the loose skin on his body.

“An underdeveloped one, so I’m not sure how useful it actually is to you,” Shade explained before continuing. “But they’re a common trait with dragons. It’s my understanding they’re used to carry objects in like saddlebags, with the pouch stretching to accommodate the contents. Think of it as like a chipmunk storing food in their cheeks or a kangaroo’s pouch, just…located in a different spot and used for a different purpose. Like dragons, you have small ones above both hips apiece, though again I’m not sure how far they’ll stretch to fit things for you.”

Gallus fingered at the small flap of skin, managing to wiggle a couple of talons into it. To his awe, the pocket of skin did indeed stretch to fit them with such ease that, if he couldn’t feel his talons wiggling within the apparent pouch, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed it was there. “Whoa,” he mumbled. “I…I always just thought that was a flap of loose skin.” He looked back at Shade and the duplicate, humbled. “…heck, I didn’t even think I’d have any traits that obvious.”

“It’s only obvious if you know what they are, part of the reason we’re doing this now,” Shade pointed out before motioning one wingtip up and down the duplicate’s spine. “Another example: I’m guessing you never noticed you have small scales running down the length of your spine.”

“What?” Gallus again exclaimed, wrapping one paw around to feel at the small of his back, the only part he could easily reach. He only felt the usual fur and feathers though.

“To be fair, they are pretty hidden under your coat,” Shade elaborated, noticing his attempts to locate the scales. He moved to press another control on the duplicate’s platform. “Here, I can tweak the image so you can see them more easily.”

The duplicate’s image flickered for a split second, then the blue and tan of its feathers and fur faded away into nothing leaving only the pink skin visible underneath. It made the duplicate look like it’d been shaved and plucked completely from head to toe, appearing so ridiculous that Gallus’s first reaction was to stifle a chuckle. But a moment later, now that the feathers and fur were no longer blocking his view, Gallus noticed for the first time how the duplicate sported small, smooth, bumps clustered around his spine, colored blue similar to his usual coat except notably darker in shade. Stepping closer, Gallus realized with a jolt how it reminded him of Spike’s scales. In fact, now that he thought about it, the darker shade was similar to the color of scales Spark appeared to have before his death…suggesting Gallus had inherited it from him.

His jaw hanging slightly open, he again reached around to feel for these scales. He had to dig past the fur and feathers a bit until he reached the flesh hidden underneath, but after a second of searching, he found a small round something that felt like it could be one of them. He was still trying to process the idea of having scales of any amount on his back when he noticed something about the duplicate’s wing and pointed a talon at it. “Is that wing supposed to look like that?”

“I was actually just about to get to that,” Shade admitted and motioned to the wing’s middle joint, where a section of skin visibly stretched from one side to the other. “As you can see, your wings are slightly webbed by a couple inches around this joint, where your forewing bones join with your metacarpals. It doesn’t seem to meaningfully affect your flying ability any as it’s more vestigial than anything, but it’s enough to still take note of.”

Gallus extended one wing and poked a talon through the feathers until he felt it make contact with the webbing. “Webbed,” he mumbled, glancing at the stallion’s own webbed wings, “like a bat wing?”

“Or more accurately, a dragon’s wing,” Shade corrected, “In any case, I’ve never seen such webbing on any kind of feathered wing like this before, so it can only be from the dragon side of your lineage.” He then motioned to the duplicate’s bare skin. “Your epidermis also bears an extra set of glands that are producing, in amounts just enough to fully cover your skin and coat, a chemical that protects from combustion reactions.”

“Combustion reacti—” Gallus’s eyes bulged once again. “Are you saying I’m fireproof?” That didn’t seem right—he had definitely burned himself a time or two over the course of his life.

Shade’s hesitation seemed to confirm it. “More…fire resistant, I’d say. You’d certainly still burn if exposed to an open flame long enough, so I wouldn’t go playing with fire anytime soon. But you’d also not burn quite as immediately as, say, I myself would.”

Gallus let out his breath in a whoosh, rubbing at the back of his head as he looked the duplicate over. “Just how many of these traits do I have, anyway?”

“There’s actually a good few more, if you’re still interested in hearing them all,” Shade replied and motioned to the duplicate’s image. “Though I should warn you the remainder are all increasingly more internal. I can show you with the imager, but it’ll mean showing you a side of your anatomy that most aren’t prepared to see.”

Gallus pshawed that aside though. “Dr. Star, half-dragon or not, I’m still a predator, one who’s gutted his share of kills before. I already have a pretty good idea what those insides are going to look like.”

“Yes, but it’s not the same to see your own though,” Shade stressed before pressing on, working with the platform’s controls. “But if you really have no issue with it, we’ll continue.”

The duplicate’s image flickered again and this time its outer skin faded away, revealing all of the muscles within. Gallus’s eyebrows went up at the peculiar sight, realizing Shade’s point about how weird it was seeing his own muscles exposed like this, but as predicted it still didn’t bother him much. “So did I get draconic muscles or anything like that?” he asked as Shade continued working with the controls.

“Actually, other than a couple fairly minor differences in structure, your musculature is as you’d expect for any griffon,” Shade admitted, looking up briefly. “So much so, I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Gallus frowned, a little put out. “So no dragon super strength?”

Shade chuckled and resumed working with the controls. “No, not really. Granted, your muscle fibers overall have a higher amount of growth than the average griffon your age, but that’s just as likely due to good exercise as it is draconic genetics.” He shrugged. “Either way, it just means your muscles are in good health.”

Gallus sighed. “Well, I guess that’s still something,” he conceded.

Meanwhile, the duplicate’s image was shifting yet again, causing the muscles to fade away and reveal his skeleton and the internal organs underneath, an even more bizarre sight. Shade continued adjusting the controls so Gallus expected the image wouldn’t be like this for long, but he nonetheless noticed a peculiarity with the duplicate’s skeleton.

“Wait, hold on,” Gallus interrupted, motioning for Shade to pause before pointing at the duplicate’s backbone. “There’s something different about these bones too, isn’t there?”

“With your vertebrae?” Shade asked, glancing at the bones in question and nodded. “Yes, actually, as you can already tell they each bear additional protrusions larger than would be found in griffons though still small enough to remain subdermal and not outwardly noticeable. They appear to be spines that never developed fully.”

“I have spines?” Gallus repeated, suddenly envisioning himself with spines like Spike’s running down his back—that was a weird thought.

“Well, your whole skeleton has small anomalies for a griffon that were probably inherited from your dragon father, and like your talons and feathers, it also bears draconic minerals in addition to traditional calcium which add to their overall strength,” Shade explained. “Tell me, have you ever broken a bone before?”

Gallus shook his head. “I dislocated a wing once and I’ve stubbed my toes plenty of times, but no, I’ve never actually broken a bone.” He shrugged. “I figured I’ve just been lucky.”

“And you probably have been, as you can still break a bone…it’s just going to take more force than it would for most other creatures.” Shade motioned for him to wait a moment and resumed working the controls. “But your truly interesting draconic traits still lie further within.”

At this the duplicate’s skeleton likewise faded away, leaving only the internal organs it supported. Like how it’d been for the duplicate’s exterior, the interior was not a static image—its heart was visibly beating at the center of its chest (more calmly than Gallus’s real heart currently was) with the lungs swelling and contacting on either side of it. Gallus even noticed the duplicate’s gizzard give itself a squeeze and started to understand why other creatures found the imager a strange thing to experience.

Fortunately, Shade swiftly distracted him from that thought by motioning to a small lump of an organ at the back of the duplicate’s throat. “This organ here,” he explained, “is normally found only in dragons. Its purpose is to produce and ignite the fuel used for fire-breathing.”

Gallus’s head whipped around. “Are you saying I can breathe fire?” he exclaimed, stunned.

“Unfortunately, no, as your gland appears to be non-functional,” Shade admitted with an apologetic look. “It might be producing mana for the magical spark that would light the flame…but I cannot be certain if you actually have the capability to trigger it. But that you have it at all is intriguing.”

Gallus snorted however, eyeing the little organ that was apparently completely useless to him.

“Moving on downward then,” Shade continued and pointed to the duplicate’s heart. “Functionally, your heart is the same as any griffon heart, but we noticed during testing that its cardiac muscles do have a bit more oomph to their contractions, stronger than the average heart.”

Gallus shrugged, not sure he understood the significance. “Okay, so…what does that mean? That I will always have good cardio?”

Shade chuckled. “Well, I imagine that with regular exercise you’ll have decent stamina with a heart like that,” he said. “But beyond that, I can’t really predict what it’ll be for you. More than likely, it will continue to serve you like a completely normal heart for the rest of your life, barring no unforeseen complications or injuries of course. Or health concerns caused by other organs working with your heart, which reminds me…” he pointed a hoof at Gallus. “Forgive my forwardness, but I must ask—do you use any recreational drugs? Particularly any which are inhaled?”

Gallus blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. “Well…no, not really…” he then huffed and rolled his eyes upon remembering an obvious exception. “…or at least I don’t anymore.” He pinched at his brow with one paw. “Back when I was about eleven, some griffons I…associated with convinced me to take up sweetsticks for a while…”

“Mm, yes, sweetsticks,” Shade hummed thoughtfully, turning to examine something on the duplicate. “That’s a particularly potent one.”

“…but it was only for a month at most,” Gallus quickly went on to add. “I quit when one griffon passed away suddenly from complications pretty clearly due to his long-time use of sweetsticks, spooking me enough to not want to tempt fate and I…never went back.”

“That was smart, because you quit just in time,” Shade explained and motioned to a spot on one of the duplicate’s lungs, motioning for Gallus to lean in and look too. “You see that discolored patch on the lower lobe of your lung?”

“…yeah? What is that?”

“That’s permanent scarring, consistent with the use of drugs like sweetsticks which was no doubt what caused that damage.” Shade looked to Gallus seriously. “I’ll be honest—finding this actually alarmed a couple of us at first because we worried it was a possible sign of something serious developing. Fortunately for you though, this scarring is minor enough it’ll likely not cause any meaningful trouble moving forward. The fact your lungs inherited a dragon’s ability to partially filter smoke probably also helped minimize the damage. But if you hadn’t stopped using the sweetsticks when you had, it likely would’ve caused serious problems later in life.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up at the close call. “I’ll be sure to tell Gus that the next time I see him,” he promised.

Shade patted him on the back. “You do that,” he encouraged before getting back on subject. “Anyway,” he continued, motioning to the duplicate’s guts further back, “it seems your digestive tract on a whole was what inherited the most draconic traits. Most are fairly technical in nature, but in summary, all of those traits working together makes your digestion a little more…aggressive…allowing for more effective digestion of foods. Likely because of it, in fact, your intestine is around a whole five feet shorter than it would be in the average griffon of your same age and size.”

Gallus furrowed his brow, not sure what to make of that detail. He had actually just been looking at the duplicate’s guts and thinking he had a lot more intestine than he thought. “Is…that a bad thing?”

“No, actually, the exact length of one’s intestine already varies from individual to individual, but in this case it’s clearly just another indication of your mixed breeding,” Shade explained, “giving you an intestine that’s a mix between griffon and draconic at about a length roughly in-between the two. All that means is that you digest most foods a little more quickly than a full-blood griffon, especially the non-draconic foods you’ve probably been eating most, since they’re comparatively simpler to digest.”

“It’s not like I’d ever eat much of any other food though,” Gallus pointed out as he processed this new detail.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Shade however interjected. “I did suggest earlier that, assuming you can safely do so, you could gain some potential nutritional benefits of a more draconic diet. And obviously while you lack the teeth to properly chew them, I think that you reasonably could safely digest at least small gemstones.”

Gallus snorted, skeptical. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for example, your stomach,” Shade began, pointing at the relevant organ on the duplicate. “Not only does it visibly bear additional linings that’d be unusual for a griffon, there is clear evidence of it producing additional chemicals like those found in a dragon’s stomach, or as they call it, their ‘cauldrons.’”

Gallus opted against asking which of the many samples specifically they had taken from him allowed them to figure that out. “Cauldron?” he asked instead.

“It makes sense when considering the many aspects to dragon digestion that’s comparable to smelting, just in biological form.” Shade smirked. “Why do you think their internal body heat is so high? They have an almost a literal furnace inside themselves. You’re a bit different, of course, as your internal body temperature is surprisingly close to normal for a griffon, but your stomach seems geared up as if it wasn’t anyway.”

“Okay, so I have a stomach with some kick to it,” Gallus reasoned. “That doesn’t mean I should go eating gemstones. There is still the whole breaking them up into smaller pieces part to consider.”

“But that’s why you, like all griffons, have a gizzard,” Shade explained, motioning to the sack-like organ that sat just past the duplicate’s stomach. “And for you, it seems to be extra resilient, with the muscular walls bearing a higher grinding power and the interior folds featuring chitinous plates adding durability.”

“Yeah, but while I’m not a doctor like you, I happen to know a normal griffon gizzard is already pretty capable as is,” Gallus pointed out before motioning to the toothless interior of his beak. “It kinda has to be for all that gets put into it.”

“I know, but your gizzard is above and beyond even that,” Shade stressed. “I almost want to conduct an experiment, feeding you a small gemstone and track it’s progress through your tract, see how well it digests, because I really do think that gizzard of yours could handle it, as could the rest of the tract. At the very least, it’d be smoothed over and eventually passed without trouble.”

Gallus pulled a face as he envisioned what that would ultimately entail. “I’ll decline, thank you, and just take your word for it,” he said.

Shade flipped through his clipboard for a second. “In that case, there’s really only one more matter we need to discuss,” he said, before motioning to the area between the duplicate’s hind legs.

Gallus caught on immediately, eyes bulging on how awkward that would be. “Oh no,” he said, pulling back. “Oh no no no no…”

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I saved this for last,” Shade admitted sympathetically—clearly he didn’t relish the idea either. “But it’s part of your physiology too, so I’d be remiss if we didn’t discuss it.”

“Dude, trust me,” Gallus stressed, eager to weasel his way out of it, “I probably learned about the birds and the bees a lot sooner than most should.” He repressed memories about the indiscretion some griffons had back home. “So I’m pretty sure I know everything you could tell me on that already.”

“From the perspective of a full-blood griffon, sure,” Shade agreed. “But as a hybrid, though?”

Gallus hesitated, seeing the point. “…does it really make that much of a difference?”

“Actually yes, since any offspring you might sire would be hybrids themselves.”

“I…” Gallus trailed off, having not considered that before. But now that the doctor brought it up, it was a valid point. If he really did have kids of his own someday, he couldn’t figure out a way they’d be conceived without him passing on at least some of his own hybrid…ness. “…even if I…hooked up with another griffon?” Admittedly, it wasn’t a subject he’d put a lot of thought into before, but he’d always assumed that’s what he’d probably pair up with.

“Even then,” Shade assured. “Some of your dragon genes will always get passed on to your offspring, no matter your mate. Even if they hatched, say, seventy-five percent griffon and only twenty-five percent dragon, that would still leave gaps in the inherited griffon genes that the dragon genes could fill and manifest in.”

“What…what would that even look like?”

“I could only guess, but going off what traits you inherited, I’d surmise they would bear many of the same—a largely griffon body featuring, say, underdeveloped dragon spines, at least some scales, maybe even webbed wings.”

“So…I’m going to have mutant kids?” Gallus surmised, starting to become horrified.

Shade frowned at that. “Well, that wouldn’t be a very kind thing to say to your future children,” he sassed.

And in that moment, to Gallus’s even greater horror, he realized he’d reacted to the idea with the same distaste the very creatures wanting him dead no doubt had. Turning ashamed now, he curled in upon himself, hiding his head behind his wings.

“That’s why we need to talk about this,” Shade went on more sympathetically. “So you can be aware of all this and start planning accordingly now rather than after your offspring hatches spouting fire. You’re going to need to decide whether or not passing on your hybrid traits is something you really want, and if so, how and who with.”

And so he went on running Gallus through the expected quirks of hybrid reproduction. But Gallus found himself half-listening, only really absorbing the information if it seemed especially important to keep in mind or if it just caught his attention (Shade mentioned along the way that, internally, his genitals also bear a couple draconic traits which was…weird to think about). Mostly, though, Gallus just turned the idea of his potential children also being hybrids over again and again in his head, trying to come to terms with it. It scared him how hard it was proving. And it wasn’t something he could escape either. Really, the only way to avoid the dilemma would be to remain celibate and never have kids at all…a thought that broke Gallus’s heart more than he expected it would. But then, he had always envisioned himself starting a family someday…when the time was right.

This threw that daydream into chaos though, and he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to make it a reality anymore. Never mind his own thoughts about having hybrid kids or even that of the hypothetical mother, he would be bringing such kids into a world that might not want them, enough to seek destroying them like had been tried with himself and Spike. And since there was a chance those kids might not be able to hide their cross-bred nature like their father could, that potentially made them even more of a target for the hate. Could he really live with himself, bringing kids into the world only to make them suffer that?

It was all, naturally, very deep questions Gallus wasn’t prepared to be asking himself, let alone answer.

He was still rolling the troubling matter around in his head as Shade finished and he was allowed to leave, heading into a nearby waiting room where he sat with his assigned guard until Spike arrived with his own guard a few minutes later, also looking distant.

“Hey,” the little dragon nonetheless greeted as he approached Gallus seated on a chair.

“Hey,” Gallus replied back. He ran his tongue over the edges of his beak. “So…how’d it go?”

“Well…okay, I guess,” Spike answered as he sat down beside Gallus. He bit his lip for a second before just saying it. “It’s…made clear that we’re really brothers, first of all.”

“Yeah, it did,” Gallus admitted, having somehow almost forgotten that all-important detail in the excitement. He sighed. “Which I guess means you’re just as much a hybrid as I am.”

“Yeah,” Spike confirmed, pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it to Gallus to read. It ran through the results of Spike’s blood work, like the similar paper Shade had given him. Gallus’s eyes thus quickly settled on the lineage section, which read: “52% DRAGON, 48% GRIFFON.”

Gallus let out his breath in a slow whoosh. “Well, at least I’m in good company then,” he admitted.

Spike chuckled at that. “I suppose so,” he admitted. He fiddled with his claws. “Did they run you through any weird hybrid traits you inherited?”

“Oh, a whole laundry list,” Gallus replied with a chuckle of his own.

They spent the next couple of minutes telling each other what they’d learned about themselves. Spike, it turned out, had quite a few unusual hybrid traits too. Some were comparatively minor but obvious when you thought about it, like him having less durability and strength or a greater tolerance for cooler temperatures than a full-blood dragon would. Others were neat, like how Spike had a “best of both worlds” sense of smell, a griffon-like lung capacity and muscles in his wings allowing for long endurance and high altitude flying, sharper griffon-like vision during the day while also still having a dragon’s night-vision, and barely visible but functional griffon-like paw pads on his feet. Spike also claimed that tests suggested he had a higher reaction speed allowing more agility than the average dragon which may or may not be a result of his hybrid genetics.

Some traits didn’t really affect anything, like how Spike apparently had an underdeveloped gizzard which didn’t cause him any problems but also didn’t seem especially functional, a slightly slower rate of digestion overall, or how he had follicles for feathers along his wings but none actually growing any. Others were mildly annoying, such as having waterproofing glands for non-existent feathers that instead made him more prone to breakouts (and apparently why Spike’s molt had been particularly rough), or an altered metabolism that more readily processed nutrients from non-draconic foods but was also the likely reason why he still sported so much of his baby fat for his age (fortunately, this could go away now that Spike better understood his actual dietary needs).

Others were just weird or embarrassing, like Spike sporting a more pronounced caecum in his intestines (Gallus didn’t even know what that was, but apparently it helped to digest fiber or something) or kidneys that conserved less water than a dragon and thus in turn required a larger griffon-like bladder to compensate. One trait that particularly stood out to Spike though was that his hybrid dietary needs made him more truly omnivorous instead of leaning heavily gemmavorous like the average dragon. This meant he didn’t have to subsist on a diet of mostly gemstones and could ingest pony foods just fine without much consequence, at least none that weren’t already universal for any other creature.

“Apparently normal dragons can’t do that as much,” Spike explained to Gallus, “at least not in large amounts or else they risk indigestion. Which I guess explains why whenever Smolder and Ember eat my nachos they always complain about getting cramps but I never hear that from literally any creature else that has them, myself included.”

“Huh,” Gallus said, finding that detail odd but sensible. He played with one of the feathers on the tip of his wing. “Did they, uh…also talk about any traits of the reproductive nature?”

“Oh my gosh, yes,” Spike groaned, blushing. He covered his eyes with his paws. “I haven’t had to talk about that in so much detail since I made the mistake of asking Twilight certain questions when I was younger.” He uncovered his eyes so he could roll them. “It turns out her being a walking talking encyclopedia has some downsides.”

Gallus snickered a little, envisioning what that must’ve been like. But as quickly as the humor had come, it dried up again. “Did they also talk about…future offspring?”

Spike breathed a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” he admitted. “They said any kids I end up having will be hybrids too.” He glanced at Gallus. “I’m guessing they told you the same.”

Gallus nodded. “I’ve been…trying to come to terms with the idea ever since.”

Spike was quiet for a moment. “That sort of thing is still a little ways off for me, but I guess it’s something you’d…need to keep in mind a bit sooner.” Studying Gallus’s face and no doubt seeing how much it troubled him, he added, “I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“I know,” Gallus admitted. “But it’s…not something I can take lightly either.” He sighed. “I guess…I just always had this picture of what kind of family I’d want to have someday, and…this kind of changes all that. So it bothers me…and it bothers me that it bothers me, y’know?”

“…yeah,” Spike agreed.

“And I know it’s not like it’s something I’m going to face all that soon,” Gallus continued. “It’s just…knowing what we’ve faced as hybrids…I can’t ignore that they’d might have to face that too.”

Spike mulled it over for a second. “As I see it though, there’s not much point getting so worked up about it until that time comes for either of us,” he reasoned. “And then, if it does happen…it happens. I’ll just have to…give them the best lives I can, regardless of the troubles that may come with it.”

Gallus mulled on that thought for a moment before his gaze turned distant. “It makes me wonder what our own parents thought about it and if they ever had…doubts.”

“Maybe,” Spike admitted. He gave Gallus an optimistic grin. “But it clearly didn’t stop them. And…I don’t think they really regretted it either. To them…we were still worth it.”

Gallus managed to share the grin himself. “Well, if and when we ever cross that bridge ourselves,” he said, “I hope we can be just as good parents as they were.” He then shook his head, casting that subject from his mind. “We’ve got more immediate concerns anyway.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed before his expression turned more jesting. “Like, we probably ought to figure out us being brothers before we even start thinking about being parents.”

Gallus laughed and patted Spike on the back. “Fair point.” He considered it for a second before glancing in the dragon’s direction. “You want to go get lunch then? Just us brothers?”

Spike looked back at him and grinned. “Lunch sounds great.”
> Bonding
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, going to get lunch presented a related problem—since Twilight had wanted to personally inspect their breakfasts and ensure no tampering, did that mean she’d want the same done with lunch? If so, did it need to be her personally or could it be somepony else so long as it was someone she trusted? Did that also mean they couldn’t request any meals from the royal kitchens without someone first examining the meal? Was there any place they could get a meal without that examination if no one was available to do it? Without answers to these questions, they weren’t entirely sure they could get lunch, so it was sort of important they find them. Unfortunately, their two guards had none to give, having not been briefed on the matter, so they had to go looking elsewhere.

Their initial plan was to find Twilight and ask her directly, Spike reasoning that even if she wasn’t in her office, there’d likely be somepony there who’d know where to find her. With the palace still on a lockdown and thereby not holding court or any other public meetings, the amount of places the princess could be was greatly limited anyway. Gallus, in fact, wanted to make a bet that they’d find her in a library, since that seemed like the obvious place she’d be. The fact Spike refused only convinced him it was a pretty safe one.

Unfortunately, he never got the vindication as, while their guards were escorting them to Twilight’s office, they crossed paths with Ditzy first. “Hiya guys,” she greeted in her usual chipper manner, but as she was still fully decked out in her Night Guard uniform, she was clearly still on duty. “Did the tests with the doctors go okay? What did they find out?”

Spike and Gallus exchanged glances as seemed to have become their habit. “Well, put in brief,” Spike answered after silently getting each other’s permission to reply, “It confirmed everything we’d already learned.”

Ditzy’s eyebrows went up at this. “I suppose congratulations are in order then, huh?” she asked with a small grin, looking the pair over. “Considering what that means for you two, brought back together again?”

Again Gallus exchanged a glance with Spike, unsure how to answer. “I suppose that is one way of looking at it,” Gallus conceded as he looked back at Ditzy, returning her grin since it was a valid point. “But…we’re still trying to figure out what that means for us, and more importantly, what we want to do about it.” But he then waved that matter aside. “That’s been an ongoing thing for the past few days though. It’s just going to take time to process fully.”

“Fair enough,” Ditzy said. “So what are you two up to now?”

“We’d actually like to get some lunch,” Spike explained, “but we weren’t sure if we could without Twilight first checking to make sure it was safe to eat.”

“Ah,” Ditzy nodded, understanding, “Well, I’m pretty sure you guys are off the hook on that if you made it yourselves. In any case, I know the princess is currently busy consulting with contacts in Griffonstone and probably shouldn’t be interrupted.” She then smiled apologetically. “I’d offer to assist myself, but I’m still working to dig up what I can about this darn conspiracy.”

“Yeah, speaking of, found out anything new on that?” Gallus asked, curious.

Ditzy opened her mouth to reply, but then appeared to reconsider at the last second. She glanced around before stepping over to a door and peeked inside, checking if the guest room beyond was empty. Upon confirming that it was, she motioned for Gallus and Spike to follow her inside. “We can talk about it in here,” she explained as they filed through before turning to the pair of guards escorting them. “Stay out here and stand guard of this door,” she instructed, “We’ll only be a couple minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” both guards chorused and took position on either side of the door.

Ditzy then ducked inside herself, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She then went to the room’s two windows to ensure they were also closed and locked before pulling the drapes closed.

Gallus raised an eyebrow at all of this. “Whatever you have to say, it must be really something,” he remarked sarcastically.

Ditzy made an apologetic wince as she rejoined them at the center of the room. “Maybe Twilight’s paranoia is rubbing off on me a bit,” she admitted as she also uncovered her eyepatch eye. “But as a precaution, I don’t want word of this getting around just yet. So let’s keep what I’m about to say to just us, Twilight, her aides, and Gruff, okay?” When Spike and Gallus both nodded in agreement, she took a deep breath and got right to the point. “I might have a lead on who killed Spark.”

Both Gallus and Spike stiffened at that, understanding now how serious this information was. “…and?” Spike prompted with a tense swallow. “What did you find out? How did you find it out?”

“By trying to learn more about Ambassador Geoff, the griffon that gave Gruff the photo proof of Spark’s death,” Ditzy replied. “I was actually looking for any clues as to how or where he got ahold of such a photo in the first place, but unfortunately that went nowhere. Instead, I found out that the forensic scientist that determined the cause of Geoff’s death was none other than one Dr. Gene Type.”

Gallus scowled. “Of course it was,” he grumbled, folding his forelegs.

“It got me thinking though,” Ditzy continued. “We know Gene Type’s MO from what had happened with you two and…Dream Chaser.” For a split moment, she turned remorseful for the lost second lieutenant. “And after a bit of research, I confirmed that the euthanization chemical he used can make it look like the victim simply died of heart failure, like how Geoff was said to have died.”

“You think Gene Type’s used that to…” Spike began, eyes widening before trailing off, unable to finish.

“There’s no way to confirm it now, but in talking it over with an expert, it seems likely, yes,” Ditzy confirmed solemnly. “And it suggested that maybe he’d done it on other occasions but was never caught. So I went through a record of past cases Gene Type had previous association with, looking for any victims that seemed to match those same circumstances.” She breathed a relieved sigh. “Fortunately, I found scant few, and most of those remain doubtful for several reasons I won’t go into…except for one, the very first case Gene Type worked on for the Royal Guard, concerning one of their airship COs, Commander Static Lift, who died of an apparent sudden heart failure. I also confirmed with Gruff that this happened less than a moon after the day Spark was likely killed on.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up. “You think this commander was involved?”

“Almost certainly—the airship he commanded was a small patrol ship equipped with a particular type of harpoon and launcher only used on Royal Guard craft. In examining Gruff’s photo again, I was able to confirm that the harpoon which killed Spark was that same type. So I dug through some flight records to see where that airship was on the day in question. According to the Royal Guard, it was supposed to be grounded at the Canterlot airship yard undergoing a minor refit for the whole of that moon, but that’s what the official record said.” Ditzy jabbed a hoof vaguely behind her. “I just got back from visiting that airship yard and asked to look through their records. I found that the manager on duty had noted the airship leaving the yard early the day of Spark’s murder for a supposed in-flight test of some new equipment that’d been installed. It wasn’t back until late that evening. And the very next day, its harpoon and accompanying launcher were recorded as completely removed and replaced with a new one.”

Gallus felt a chill run down his back. “So to remove the evidence it had ever been involved,” he breathed.

Ditzy nodded seriously. “Only three creatures were recorded as being aboard the airship for that flight: the lead commander Static Lift, his second in command Streamline, and an unnamed civilian pilot that was probably working under an independent contract. No doubt they all had been hired for the job by our mastermind and then paid handsomely to keep quiet about it. I was actually heading to see if I could find records of any such payments to their accounts when I crossed paths with you two.”

“But then why kill Static Lift at all if he’d already been bought off?” Spike asked, confused.

“I’m guessing he couldn’t keep his mouth shut after all,” Gallus surmised darkly.

“Maybe he had second thoughts, maybe he got greedy and tried to blackmail whoever had hired him, or maybe someone just decided buying him off wasn’t enough,” Ditzy offered as possible explanations. “After all, the first rule of a perfect assassination is to kill your assassin, ensuring they can never talk.”

“What about the other two on that airship?” Gallus asked.

“Well, I still have no idea who the civilian pilot was or where they are now, but Streamline, the second in command, is still alive. He retired early and has been living a secluded and reclusive life ever since.”

“Probably so to keep himself out of prying eyes,” Gallus surmised, “or listening ears.”

“No doubt Static Lift’s death spooked him too, if he had any reason to suspect he was…murdered,” Spike added with a cringe.

“Whatever the case, I’m seeking authorization to go question him while we’ve still got the chance,” Ditzy concluded. “I’m just waiting for the final okay from Kibitz or Raven. But until then I don’t want word of this getting around, because if the wrong ears hear it…”

“…they could make sure Streamline can’t talk either,” Gallus finished gravely with a nod. He then mimed zipping his mouth closed to assure they’d keep quiet. “Best of luck with that then, Ditzy.”

Ditzy nodded but then straightened, returning to her original chipper persona. “That’s all for me to worry about though,” she summarized. “You two just continue staying here at the palace where it’s safe and keep out of trouble. Go get your lunch then find something to entertain yourselves with. Hay, take the time to do some…brotherly bonding even.”

She gave them both a playful nudge before walking past them for the door, while Gallus and Spike exchanged glances, giving that advice some thought.





Rejoining with their escorts, they changed course for the royal kitchens—basically a large room filled with everything required for cooking nearly anything the staff needed to. It was, in Gallus’s eyes, a paradise for those with cooking talent. As it was lunchtime for most of the rest of the palace too, the kitchens were a flurry of activity as everyone worked to provide the needed meals. But despite this high-stress environment, the staff proved friendly enough to be able to spare the two a few moments.

They assumed the dragon and griffon were here to request their own meals which the staff would be happy to provide, but taking Ditzy’s suggestion to heart, they asked instead if they could be allowed the space and materials to make their own meals. Going from their surprised and unsure expressions, it was a safe bet they didn’t get requests like that very often, particularly since that was supposed to be their job. But they nevertheless allowed Spike and Gallus access to whatever they wished so long as it wasn’t already in use by somebody else. With that settled and their two escorts discreetly watching nearby, the two began by perusing the pantries so to decide what to make.

Though he should’ve already figured this given the poached cod so skillfully prepared for him for breakfast, Gallus was amazed at the vast diversity of potential foods the kitchens were prepared to make at a moment’s notice. The pantries were stocked with everything, from the fruits, vegetables, milk, cheese, grains, and flour typical of pony diets but also more kinds of eggs you could shake a stick at, various edible gourds, every kind of seasoning you could imagine, a wide array of gemstones, several kinds of dried seaweed he knew would appeal to hippogriffs like Silverstream, and even a mint green wheel of what he recognized as changeling cheese, thanks to the time Ocellus had brought some to the school to share.

More important to his own tastes though were the surprising amount of meats for catering to more carnivorous guests. All mostly contained in a separate freezer so to keep them unspoiled until use, it wasn’t too great an amount, but still much more than he’d expected of the famously vegetarian (and at times squeamish) ponies. And it was diverse, including meat from both land and sea, though it was the latter that Gallus ended up focusing his attention on, thinking about how good that cod he’d had this morning was and still feeling interested in something similar. Selecting a still whole haddock that, according to an attached label, had been freshly caught not too long ago, he proceeded back into the main part of the kitchen so to start prepping it.

Meanwhile, Spike had gone straight for the gemstones and was still sorting through the stocks for what Gallus assumed were his favorites when he paused, examining a small marble-sized piece of topaz. “Hey Gallus,” he said, calling for the griffon’s attention. “Didn’t the doctor say you could stomach gemstones?”

“So he claimed,” Gallus replied as he set the haddock down into a defroster—it would use stored magical energy to quickly thaw frozen foods—then turned to face the dragon. “Personally I still have my doubts, and anyway, it’s not like I could chew them.”

Spike examined the gem in his claws for another moment. “But…could that mean you also have some of the dragon, shall we say, palate?”

Gallus’s brow furrowed. “So…taste what a dragon can taste,” he summarized.

“Yeah.”

“…pretty sure it’d still taste like a rock either way, dude.”

Spike gave him a smirk. “You’d be surprised,” he remarked knowingly. “Besides, the doctor told me that I seemed to have inherited a few griffon taste buds, so why not you too?” When Gallus still didn’t seem convinced, he shrugged. “I’m just wondering if you can tell the tastes of differing gemstones.”

Gallus frowned at the idea. “I don’t think so or I’d think I’d have already noticed by now.”

“Maybe, but have you really gone around taste-testing gemstones before now?”

Admittedly, Gallus didn’t have a good counter for that. Spike could see it too, because, giving him another smirk, he offered Gallus the yellow-orange gem in his claws. Gallus harrumphed, but he begrudgingly accepted the offered marble of a gem. “All right fine, I’ll humor you,” he relented. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

He then popped the gem into his beak before he could get second thoughts and proceeded to roll it around his mouth a few times. He expected nothing more than the usual grainy taste of rock and dirt, and at first that was precisely what he detected on his tongue. But then after a moment, he started to pick up a more subtle taste lingering behind it that he didn’t expect. He couldn’t really describe it, but it was definitely there and it was definitely more interesting than he anticipated.

“Huh,” he hummed aloud as he continued sucking on the gem, brow furrowing more and more as the unexpected discovery grew increasingly notable on his tongue. “Huh.”

“I’m guessing you’re picking up something,” Spike surmised, amused by the perplexed expressions the griffon was making, “Maybe something along the lines of a minerally nutty flavor?” Gallus thought about it for a second, comparing what Spike described to the taste in his mouth. He eventually had to nod in surprise. Spike’s smirk grew. “Yeah, that sounds like the taste of topaz all right, so it seems you really do have some dragon taste buds.”

“Well, it’s still kind of a subtle thing,” Gallus replied upon reflexively swallowing so to clear his mouth. “I can’t have, like, a complete set of the things, so I don’t know if…” he then trailed off, eyes widening as he realized what he just did.

“…what?” Spike prompted after a moment, starting to show concern.

Gallus felt around his mouth to double-check, but there was no denying how conspicuously empty it now felt. “I…uh…I just swallowed the gemstone,” he admitted, a little embarrassed he’d done that. He hadn’t meant to—it just slid down his throat on its own like it was nothing.

“…oh,” Spike said, understanding. He worked his jaw up and down for a little bit, trying to decide what to say next. “Well…I guess we’re finding out whether or not the doctor was right about you being able to…y’know…digest something like that after all.”

“I guess so,” Gallus said with a sigh, now a bit mad at himself for letting it happen. He rubbed at his belly the gemstone had no doubt settled into by now, not that he could feel it anymore. “I’m probably seeing that again later, though.”

Spike wrinkled his snout at the thought. “Why do you always have to be so frank about that kind of stuff anyway?” he groused as he turned back to sifting through gemstones.

Gallus just shrugged with a sigh, not as perturbed about it. “I dunno…I guess I’ve just always seen it as the natural thing that it is and not really anything to be so bothered about. What goes in must come out anyway, right? So no point denying it.” He turned his own attention back to the defroster, noticing it was nearly done. “A lot of griffons are like that, now that I think about it. I mean, it’s not like we deliberately go looking to drag the subject into everything, but if it does come up, we’re not going to dance around it either.”

“I suppose I still have a lot more to learn about griffon culture then,” Spike noted as he took on a briefly faraway look. “And I suppose I’d have motive now, considering I’m…well…”

“Yeah,” Gallus agreed, thinking he probably ought to try to learn more about dragon culture too, now that he knew he was similarly half-dragon. He mulled over what that’d entail for them both for a second before a thought struck him. He glanced at Spike. “I suppose I could teach you a few things if you’re interested then.”

Spike met his gaze. “Really?” he asked, seeming genuinely intrigued. “Like what?”

Put on the spot, Gallus glanced around for a moment, searching for inspiration. The defroster suddenly dinged behind him, drawing his attention back to it and the haddock now nicely thawed and ready for preparation and pulled it out. “Well…I happen to know you’ve never cleaned a fish before.” He set the fish on a cutting board and motioned to it. “You wanna give it a shot?”

Spike immediately tensed at the suggestion, looking like this wasn’t at all what he had in mind. He locked eyes with the fish lying on the board, intimidated. “Uh, well, ah,” he fumbled, setting aside the gems he’d been picking out. He swallowed uncomfortably. “I…I don’t know if…um…I mean it’s your fish, not mine, so…”

“I won’t make you,” Gallus assured, though he couldn’t help but smirk, interested in coaxing the dragon into broadening his horizons. “But I figure it’s as good a place to start as any. I could’ve started by offering you how to hunt and catch prey in addition to cleaning and preparing it…but I figured you’d prefer starting off with that part already done.” Watching Spike uneasily consider the prospect, he added, “Besides, I know for a fact that dragons occasionally hunt too, so griffon or dragon, if you plan to truly associate with either, you probably ought to learn it at some point.”

Spike continued to hem and haw over it for a moment longer, long enough that Gallus was about to say again he wouldn’t force him when Spike heaved a sigh and nodded. “I suppose now is as good a time to try as any then,” he relented and stepped over to join Gallus at the haddock lying on the cutting board. He eyed it somewhat warily. “So…what do we do first?”

“Well, since I’d need it filleted, we need to scale it,” Gallus said, pulling open a drawer and looking through its contents.

“Scale it?” Spike repeated, confused and uncertain. “You…mean remove all of its scales?”

“Yep,” Gallus confirmed, pulling out a descaling tool and offering it to the dragon. “You could probably do it with your claws, but since this is your first time, this’ll probably help make it easier.” When Spike had cautiously accepted the sawtooth-edged tool but resolutely still stood ready to continue, Gallus proceeded to coach him on what to do. “Okay, so what you want to do is firmly grab the tail then run the tool from tail to head. It should scrape away the scales as you do it.”

Spike swiped the tool over the side of the fish’s body a couple of times, initially gingerly, but then with slightly more force upon realizing that worked better. Either way, Gallus opted not to comment on how he was doing so almost apologetically for the fish, since the fish wasn’t exactly in a state of caring anymore. “How…how many times do I need to do this?” Spike asked upon seeing the haddock’s greyish scales starting to pile around it.

“Until its sides feel nice and smooth,” Gallus said before patting him encouragingly on the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when we’re at that point, but you’re doing good.”

They continued descaling both sides of the fish for a few more moments until there didn’t seem to be any more to remove. Throughout it all, Spike remained determined to see through what he’d started, but Gallus knew this was really the easy part and honestly wasn’t sure how Spike would react to the more grisly bit coming up.

“Okay, so, what now?” Spike asked once they had cleared away the scales and wiped down the fish of any lingering residue.

“Now is the admittedly more icky part,” Gallus admitted as he took the descaling tool from Spike and swapped it with a knife. “We gotta cut it open and remove its guts.” He saw Spike visibly pale at that thought, looking at the fish with renewed wariness. “If you don’t want to continue…”

“No, no,” Spike quickly assured, swallowing and determinedly trying to steady himself, “Chickening out now isn’t going to make this any easier for me, so let’s keep going.” He took a deep breath and nodded, gripping the knife he’d been given. “So…how do I do this?”

“All right,” Gallus said, continuing on. He pointed to a spot near the base of the fish’s tail. “Take the knife and cut from there up to its head so to slit open its belly.”

Spike took another deep breath and, trying to steady his clearly nervous paws, started to do as instructed.

“You’re…going to need to cut a little harder than that, bud,” Gallus quickly noted, sympathizing with the dragon’s desire to be ginger, but swiftly had to amend the instruction too. “But not that hard! We don’t want to puncture its intestines!”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, probably not,” Spike replied with a cringe. He made an interesting noise somewhere between a groan and whine as he cut.

“Okay, now you need to slice here, so to separate the gills,” Gallus instructed, standing ready to take over if he needed to.

But Spike, despite everything, pressed on. “Okay…okay…” he breathed once he’d finished.

“Okay, now we gotta hold it open so to pull out the insides.”

That was a prospect Spike clearly didn’t savor, but nonetheless bracing himself and trying to not twist his head away in a visible cringe, he proceeded to do as instructed. “Ewww…” he couldn’t help but mumble as he worked.

Gallus patted him on the back, impressed Spike was sticking with it. “You’re still doing good,” he assured him before pointing with his talon. “Now I need you to cut here like this—yep, just like that! And that’s got that part sorted.” He spared Spike the task of disposing of the entrails. He eyed Spike standing there breathing deeply, still looking uneasy but pleased with himself for sticking with it anyway, and couldn’t help but grin a little. “Do you want me to take over now, or do you want to know how to fillet it too?”

Spike debated it for a moment, but at this point he seemed determined to keep going through with it. “Yeah,” he concluded, “talk me through that part too.”

Gallus’s grin grew a little more as he handed him a filleting knife. “Here’s what you need to do then,” he began.

It was clear Spike didn’t relish doing the cutting, but before long they had the haddock sliced into slabs of pink meat and Spike stood over it all, looking rather proud of himself seeing it through. “I…I did it,” he breathed, pleased.

“That you did,” Gallus agreed with a grin.

Spike let out a long and relieved exhale. “I don’t think I want to do it again anytime soon, though,” he admitted.

Gallus laughed. “That’s okay, you don’t have to,” he said as he took over preparing the meat. “At this point all that’s left to do anyway is turn this into a tasty meal. Speaking of, you still have a meal of your own to make, right?”

“Yeah,” Spike said as he washed his claws. He nodded his head at the gems he’d set aside earlier. “I’ve got an old draconic favorite in mind to make.”

Gallus raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “Sounds interesting.”

“I think you’d like it honestly,” Spike admitted. He then paused, getting a thought. “Hey, since we’re, y’know, sharing details about each other’s cultures…how about we both make a cultural meal to share with each other?”

Gallus considered the idea. “So…I make a griffon-style lunch for you and you make me a draconic lunch?”

Spike nodded, before glancing at the meat they just sliced up. “That is unless you want to stick with what you’re already doing,” he added.

Gallus looked down at the meat, as he admittedly did have his heart set on that haddock…but he had to admit what Spike proposed intrigued him, and since Spike had been brave enough to take a shot at cleaning a fish like a champ, he figured he owed the dragon a returned favor. “Aw heck, sure, let’s do that. What I had in mind is an iconic Griffish Isle dish anyway, so it’ll definitely apply.”

They set to work making their respective dishes. Even though both had already dropped obvious clues about what they planned to prepare, it nevertheless became a teasing game of making sure the other didn’t see much of what it was so to still surprise the other. At one point during cooking his meal, Gallus worried his might take longer than Spike’s, but ultimately, thanks to Spike having paused to help him fillet the haddock, they both ended up finishing in close succession with each other. Then, so to continue the secrecy of what they’d prepared, they put their finished meals on trays and under metal covers (which Gallus learned was properly called a “cloche”), and with their guard escorts following, carried the meals into a neighboring dining room they’d been permitted to use and sat down across from each other.

“Moment of truth time,” Gallus said with a smirk as they readied to reveal the meals.

“Certainly smells good,” Spike remarked, motioning to the cloche covering what Gallus had prepared for him. He looked across the table at the griffon. “Shall we see your meal first?”

Gallus motioned for him to continue. “By all means,” he said, feeling confident it’d be well received.

Spike raised his eyebrows in intrigue at Gallus’s apparent confidence before whisking away the cloche and revealing a plate of battered fillets and chopped potato slices, both deep-fried to a crisp. He leaned closer to look it over, curious. “Okay, so what it is?” he asked.

“It’s called fish and chips,” Gallus explained. “It’s a dish that originated in the Griffish Isles and was brought over to Griffonstone by traders. It’s pretty popular with griffons in both locations. I’d call it an iconic grab-and-go meal for us, particular the working class.”

Spike gingerly picked up one of the still-warm fillets and sampled a cautious bite. “Hmm,” he nonetheless hummed approvingly. “That is pretty good.”

“Yeah, I picked up a great recipe for it from a job I worked once sometime back,” Gallus said proudly. “Everyone who’s tried it has liked it, so I figured you would too.”

Spike took another bite from the fillet, pondering the taste in his mouth. “It tastes tangy…is that vinegar I taste?” he asked.

“And a bit of lemon juice, seasoned with some paprika and a hint of garlic so to really emphasize that tang,” Gallus said before pointing a talon at the potatoes. “The chips are similarly seasoned so they should pair up well.”

Spike popped a few of the fried potatoes into his mouth and nodded in agreement. “Tastes good,” he confirmed before smirking, “Though I’d sooner call them fries than chips.”

“Maybe by your naïve Equestrian terms,” Gallus teased back before turning his attention to Spike’s yet-to-be-revealed dish in front of him. “Anyway, my stomach’s saying it should be my turn to partake now.”

“Go for it,” Spike said through another bite of fried fish, giving the griffon an approving thumbs up.

So Gallus whisked away the second cloche, revealing a bowl filled with a steaming and thick tannish-grey soup. Raising an eyebrow at it, he picked up a spoon and slurped up a quick taste. “Ooh, it’s got some zing,” he noted approvingly upon feeling the playful sting of its spices on the back of his throat. He took another sip of the broth and this time held it in his mouth so to better pick out the other flavors, but there were several he couldn’t quite identify. “So what’s in it?”

“Well, there’re a few minor herbs in there, first of all,” Spike replied after finishing off the first fried fillet. “Normally they wouldn’t be there by traditional dragon standards, but I like adding them so to give it a bit more texture. But the rest of the broth is mostly made from various gemstones that have been crushed into a powder—amethyst, jade, sapphire…” Catching the look Gallus was giving him at that point, the dragon folded his arms smugly. “Hey, you already swallowed one gemstone today and it was whole. A few more in powdered form isn’t going to hurt you.”

Gallus rolled his eyes but found himself continuing to sup the soup anyway, because, dang it, it still tasted good and he was hungry. And as one who appreciated a bit of kick to his food, he was really enjoying the added spice the broth had. “So what’s in there that’s giving it that extra zing?” he asked after another moment of the spices dancing over his palate.

“It’s actually just a dusting of a special spice popular with dragons,” Spike explained as he helped himself to more of the fried potatoes, “Just a dusting though, because it can be pretty potent if you use too much of it.”

“Okay, but what is it? What’s it called?”

“Well, it’s known among ponies as ‘lightning spice,’ but the dragons apparently call it ‘dragon cumin’ instead.” Spike frowned to himself. “The way Ember explained it made it seem like the name is some kind of inside joke, but…heck if I know what it is.”

Gallus, meanwhile, had glanced up upon hearing its dragon name and repressed a snicker as he had a pretty good idea what the intended wordplay was. “Let me guess—she mispronounced ‘cumin’ when she told you this.”

“Yeah, actually, more ‘COM-in’ rather than ‘CUE-min’ like it should be,” Spike admitted thoughtfully, still oblivious, but he swiftly noticed that Gallus didn’t seem to be. “…what?”

Gallus smirked. “Tell you what, I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he quipped before turning back to his lunch. “But for now, let’s eat.”





And eat they did. Once finished, they both agreed on liking their respective dishes quite a bit (though Gallus joked that his gut might hate him for the spicy dish later) and appreciated the small insight into the culture each came from. After they had finished however, they weren’t entirely sure what to do next. Gallus, aware of some of the things it contained, suggested Spike give him a tour of the royal palace, but one of their guards quickly reminded that they probably shouldn’t be wandering around too much right now. So instead they decided to go back to their room and come up with something to do there.

On the way, Gallus got to thinking again about his newfound half-dragon biology. It kept feeling like something new his body had only recently obtained before reminding himself that he’d really always had it and just hadn’t known it before now. Still, Gallus couldn’t help but wonder if, now that he did know about it, how else this could affect his life.

“So since you’re the one who got more of the dragon genes than I did,” he began asking Spike as they walked through the halls, “is there anything you think I should know about my dragon side that the doctors might’ve been ignorant on?”

Spike hummed to himself as he pondered the question. “Dunno,” he eventually admitted. He glanced up at Gallus. “I mean, you can’t do anything obvious like firebreathe, right?”

Gallus shook his head. “Sadly, no, seems I didn’t get any of the firebreathing stuff,” he said before realizing he should clarify. “Well, I suppose I did get the relevant gland or whatever, but…”

“Wait, you have a firebreathing gland?” Spike asked, perking up.

Gallus realized he must’ve forgotten to tell him that earlier. “Well, yes, but according to the doc it’s not exactly a working one. He indicated that the best it might do is produce some of the mana needed to work, but none of the other things required to go with it, so…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spike interrupted, bringing them to a halt and stepping in front of Gallus. “If it’s producing mana, doesn’t that mean you can still produce a starter spark?”

“Starter spark?”

“The little spark of magic that actually lights the flames for firebreathing.” Spike took a precautionary step back from Gallus. “Here, watch closely and I’ll try to show you.”

He opened his mouth wide, giving Gallus an unexpected view into his toothy maw all the way back to his throat. He wasn’t quite sure what Spike was doing and was about to ask when Spike visibly flexed a few throat muscles. There was a sudden flash of green deep within before a small puff of magical emerald fire rushed out of his mouth. The suddenness made Gallus reflexively pull back, afraid of getting singed even though the flames went out well before reaching him.

“What the heck, dude?” he asked, confused as he waved away the small cloud of leftover smoke.

“Sorry,” Spike said, also fanning away the smoke. “But you saw what I mean, right? That little pop of magic just before the flames came out?”

“I guess,” Gallus said before he suddenly caught on. “Wait, you’re thinking I could produce that spark?”

“Well, it won’t really do anything from what you’ve told me, but sure, I think there’s a good chance,” Spike concluded.

Gallus flexed his throat a few times, trying to figure out how to check. “I have no idea how though,” he finally admitted.

“Do what I do then,” Spike suggested, opening his mouth again. “Pull your tongue back as far as it’ll go, start to inhale like you’re gonna yawn, then flex the back of your throat, like you’re squeezing something out of it.” He repeated the action with his own throat, producing another small burst of fire.

Watching a little more closely this time, Gallus felt he understood and, opening his beak, tried to mimic the action. Instead, he ended up releasing a croaky and unflattering wheeze. Ignoring one of their guards hiding a grin of amusement, Gallus resolutely tried again, putting as much force into it as he could. This resulted in a bigger and even more embarrassing wheeze, but Spike, watching closely, perked up suddenly.

“Hey, I think you did it!” he cried. But realizing Gallus had no way of seeing it for himself, he glanced around quickly then dragged the griffon down a different corridor until they were standing in front of a decorative mirror. “Here, try it again in front of this. Maybe you’ll see it in your reflection.”

Skeptical, Gallus repeated the wheezing action a couple of times. He had to remind himself to keep his eyes open after realizing he wasn’t for the first one or two times. The view wasn’t exactly flattering as he looked like he was trying to cough up a particularly nasty hairball, but finally and without warning he spied a blink-and-you-miss-it flash of blue light deep in the back of his throat. It was so sudden that it completely surprised him.

“Whoa!” Gallus declared, immediately stopping the wheezing and pulling back. “That’s…whoa!”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Spike said with a pleased grin.

“Kinda, yeah,” Gallus had to admit, but he also reached up to rub at his strained throat. “But the amount of force I had to give to get it probably wasn’t worth it.”

“Without any flames to ignite, probably not,” Spike was forced to concede with a regretful sigh while they resumed walking again. He mulled it over for another moment though. “I suppose that also means you don’t have a firepouch.”

“Yeah, pretty sure the doc would’ve mentioned it if I did,” Gallus agreed before asking, “What’s a firepouch?”

“It’s what gives a dragon’s firebreath most of its magical properties,” Spike explained. “It’s also a means of magically storing things…well, flammable ones at least. It works kind of like how I send or receive messages via firebreath, but instead of sending anything somewhere else, it just stores it within the firepouch until I bring it back out again. Here, see?” he thumped his chest in a specific spot and belched out a small burst of flames onto one hand. When they cleared, he held up a single index card which had materialized in his claws like a magician showing off their latest trick.

Gallus took the card to examine, looking completely intact despite its fiery method of delivery. “Huh, I guess I can see how that’d be useful,” he admitted. “But no, I don’t have anything like that. Only pouches I seem to have are these,” he patted one of the two pouches he now knew were on his hips, “and I’m not even sure they’re really all that useful to me.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got those,” Spike said, grabbing at the flap of skin that was otherwise completely invisible on his body until pulled open. “I kind of only use them in emergencies because they aren’t really big enough to fit much yet, but maybe when I’m older and grown some more.”

Gallus, however, watched as Spike wiggled his whole hand into one of the pouches and slightly jealously noted they still seemed bigger and more useful than his own—he just kept striking out on the really cool dragon traits, it seemed. He turned his attention back to the index card Spike hadn’t yet taken back from him, reading the words scribbled on it. “So what’s a ‘dragon code?’” he asked as they arrived at the doors to their room.

“Oh that,” Spike replied, swiftly taking back the card and sheepishly hiding it away again with another burst of fire. “That’s, uh, that’s kinda private, but…a dragon code is a sort of series of personal standards every individual dragon decides they want to live by.”

“Yours seemed to veer towards the chivalrous from what I saw,” Gallus noted with a bemused grin as they stepped inside, leaving their escorts to take up their posts outside. “Which I have no problem with, it’s just…not something you normally associate with dragons, chivalry.”

“Well, it…varies from dragon to dragon,” Spike admitted. “And most don’t write them down, I just did because it…” he blushed a little, “…seemed cool.” He cleared his throat. “But every dragon has their own version of a dragon code. It’s tradition.”

Gallus harrumphed to that as he took a seat in a chair. “Even half dragons like you and me?” he asked, more jokingly than anything.

But Spike took it completely seriously. “Sure, I don’t see why not. I mean, I did, so I can’t see any reason why you can’t either.”

Gallus opened his beak to retort, only to realize he didn’t really have one and instead remained silent, considering the prospect for a bit.

“…I suppose I could help you come up with ideas for a code of your own, if you want,” Spike offered, seeing this. “You know…since we’re sharing each other’s cultures and all that.”

Gallus initially thought to refuse, but then his heart softened and yielded with a grin. “Sure, let’s do that. We needed something to do anyway.”





They must’ve spent as much as an hour spitballing ideas on what Gallus’s dragon code should say. At first they talked about it seriously, but eventually it devolved into offering increasingly sillier and sillier ideas for the laughs. Spike pointed out there was no rush to get a finalized code down now anyway, and Gallus could always come back and make changes to it if needed—Spike’s own code had undergone a number of revisions over the years. But it nonetheless gave them some needed entertainment for a bit.

They were in the middle of discussing how much further they wanted to take it when they had a visitor knocking on their door. “Come in?” Gallus called hesitantly.

One of the guards outside opened the door and escorted in Raven Inkwell, carrying a box on her back. “Hey you two,” she greeted as she entered, the guard swiftly closing the door behind them before standing in front of it to watch. “How are you doing?”

“Hey Raven,” Spike greeted back with a wave. “We’re trying to stay busy.”

“Well, here’s something new you can keep busy with for a bit,” the unicorn replied, floating the box from off her back and looking to Gallus. “Gallus, your friends from the school have sent you a care package.”

“Really?” Gallus said, perking up immediately and almost jumping out of his seat to examine the box.

“Yes, it seems to be their way of saying they’re thinking of you while you’re cooped up here in the palace with the rest of us,” Raven explained, smiling at Gallus’s exuberance as she handed him the package. “It’s already been opened because we had to go through it and make sure it was both genuine and didn’t have any hidden traps or other things of nefarious intent, but otherwise we made it a point to not mess with its contents as much as we could.”

“Sweet,” Gallus said, not really caring about it being pre-opened as he nudged aside one flap to peer inside.

“Also came to check up on you both, make sure you were doing all right,” Raven continued as Gallus did this. “The princess would’ve done this herself, but she’s unfortunately still wading hock deep through the politics side of this mess and can’t be spared at the moment.” She rolled her brown eyes upwards in weary amusement. “I told her she could always pass off some of that onto Prince Blueblood, since he’s been locked in the palace with the rest of us and diplomacy is one of his fortes, but she’s insistent on doing it herself.”

Gallus couldn’t help but snicker to himself, having heard of Blueblood by reputation before. “The prince was unlucky enough to be here when this all went down, huh?” he asked in amusement.

“As were a couple of ambassadors,” Raven admitted. “We’re trying to keep them entertained though.” She adjusted her glasses briefly before continuing. “But in other news, you’ll be pleased to know the airships we sent to retrieve the evidence and Diorite from Griffonstone and the Dragon Lands respectively have picked up their cargos and are already well on their way back now.”

“When will they get here?” Spike asked as Gallus set the box onto the floor to sort through better.

“We expect them here before tonight at the earliest, weather permitting,” Raven replied. “So hopefully we’ll be bringing an end to this unsavory business sooner rather than later, if everything continues to go well.”

“Hopefully it will,” Gallus agreed, eager to see a close to the matter too.

“In the meantime, we’re still trying to find out what we can,” Raven concluded. “I’m helping out where able, I know Gruff was permitted to assist safeguarding the evidence collection as it comes in with the other guards, and I understand Lieutenant Commander Ditzy was okayed to pursue a promising lead though I don’t know the details beyond that.”

“Wishing her the best of luck nonetheless,” Spike remarked with a grin.

“Anyway, that’s where we’re at currently,” Raven said, starting to turn for the door. “We just ask you humor our abundance of caution for a little longer, okay?”

“Will do!” Spike said as they waved her farewell, watching her exit the room with the guard, leaving them alone once more. “So what’s in the box?” he then asked Gallus.

“Oh, just a few nick-knacks from my dorm at the school,” Gallus said, smirking as he removed a little note wishing him well signed by all of his friends as well as Headmare Starlight, which probably explained how it all got here so quickly. He set aside the note and back to the rest of the box’s contents. “There’re some snacks in here, like bags of pretzels and popcorn kernels, but as for the rest, it looks like they just dumped in everything I had in my desk drawer.”

“Any of that something we can both use to keep entertained?”

“Well…there’re things that can be used separately, but nothing we can both do together.” Gallus frowned a little, feeling like that was excluding Spike a little. “Kinda wish they thought to include a board game or something, but oh well.” He shrugged, moving past it. “Still, I’m sure we can at least find some inspiration on what to do next in here.” He pulled out a yo-yo and proceeded to do a few tricks with it.

“Show off,” Spike quipped with a smirk while looking through the box for anything that interested him. “…so what’s this?” he asked, grabbing an item at random from the box. It was a rolled up tube of paper.

Gallus glanced at it, needing a moment before he remembered what it was. “Oh that!” he exclaimed once it hit him, setting down the yo-yo. “That’s a poster Ocellus gave me that I haven’t gotten around to hanging. It’s for a movie we all saw a while back.”

Spike unrolled the poster, taking in its designs. “Kiss Me Deadly,” he read the film’s title, mildly intrigued, “Can’t say I’ve seen it.”

“It’s kind of a crime noir thriller sort of film,” Gallus explained, taking the poster from Spike and grinning at the memory. “Sandbar thought the plot was convoluted, but I really liked it.”

“A thriller, huh?” Spike said, rubbing his chin as he started to get an idea. “Well, here at the palace I don’t think we have a copy of that particular film, but we do still have a projector, as well as a few other film strips that I think you might like…if you’re interested.”

Gallus raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, intrigued, before making a show of thinking it over. “It does bring up a related thought.” He pointed at Spike and held up one of the bags of popcorn kernels. “Can that firebreath of yours pop popcorn?”

Spike smirked. “Dude, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried dragon fire-popped popcorn,” he promised.

Gallus smirked back, clapping his talons together and rubbing them eagerly. “Then I’m game.”





So movie night it was. And Spike wasn’t exaggerating at his popcorn-popping skills or film reel selections. In fact, it turned out their tastes had an overlap—Gallus tended to prefer mysteries and even the occasional horror film while Spike leaned more towards the sci-fi and fantasy films, but both shared elements of the dramatic thriller they gravitated towards anyway, so it wasn’t hard to settle on what films to watch. To that end, when Spike requested a screen and projector be sent their way, he also simply asked for a box of relevant film reels from which they took turns picking ones to play.

By the time they were pulling out the last few from the bottom of that box, dusk was starting to fall, but Gallus had barely noticed the time fly by. This was what the two of them had really needed anyway—just an excuse to kick back, relax, and enjoy each other’s company while giving a running commentary on what they watched, noting what worked and what didn’t. He’d done this a lot with friends before, but it felt a little different with Spike. He couldn’t quite put his talon on why until he finally asked himself: Is this what brothers do? Just kick back and have fun together as buds? A part of him wasn’t sure it was really that simple…but if it was, he definitely couldn’t complain, and hoped they could keep doing things like this for years to come.

As the projector clicked away above them, broadcasting the current film onto a silver screen in the now very dark room, they both lay sprawled out under it—Gallus with his back resting against the bed’s footboard with Spike leaning on his side, their eyes wide as they took in the unexpectedly suspenseful events taking place on the screen. Reaching half-blindly beside him, Spike grabbed another handful of what was their third or so bowl of heavily buttered popcorn from where it sat in Gallus’s lap. Equally half-blindly, Gallus attempted to reposition it so to aide Spike before grabbing another handful himself. All of this was done without turning their engrossed eyes from the screen.

It currently portrayed a whole neighborhood of frightened ponies—in a panic because the power had gone out on their street and not understanding why—looking down their dark street at a figure that had slowly materialized out of the gloom and was heading towards them:


“It’s the monster! It’s the monster!”

“We may need this.”

  “A crossbow? Good Faust—will anypony think a thought around here? Will you ponies wise up? What good would a crossbow do against—”

  “No more talk, Steel! You’re going to talk us into a grave! You’d let whatever’s out there walk right over us, wouldn’t you? Well, some of us won’t!”

  TWANG!


They watched as the figure immediately crumpled to the ground. “Oh it’s not gonna be that easy,” Spike noted aloud as he watched the ponies on the screen gather around what they’d shot.


  “It’s Peat Van Horse!”


“Called it!”


  “Peat Van Horse! He was just going to go over to the next block to see if the power was on—”

  “You killed him, Charmy. You killed him dead!”

  “But…but I didn’t know who he was. I certainly didn’t know who he was. He comes walking out of the darkness—how am I supposed to know who he was? Steel—you know why I shot! How was I supposed to know he wasn’t a monster or something? We’re all scared of the same thing. I was just trying to…trying to protect my home, that’s all! Look, all of you, that’s all I was trying to do. I didn’t know it was somepony we knew! I didn’t know—”

  “Charmy…Charmy…the lights just went on in your house. Why did the lights just go on?”


“Oh,” Gallus whispered aloud as a chill went down his spine. “Now this is a film.”


  “What about it, Charmy? How come you’re the only one with lights now?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know!”

  “You were so quick to kill, Charmy, and you were so quick to tell us who we had to be careful of. Well, maybe you had to kill. Maybe Peat there was trying to tell us something. Maybe he’d found out something and came back to tell us who there was amongst us we should watch out for—”

  “No…no…it’s nothing of the sort! I don’t know why the lights are on. I swear I don’t! Somepony’s pulling a gag or something!”

  “A gag? A gag? Charmy, there’s a dead pony on the sidewalk and you killed him! Does this thing look like a gag to you?”

  “No! No! Please!”


It was then that an earth-rattling bang sounded from somewhere below or beside the royal palace. The whole building jolted like it had suddenly jumped from the earth, but Gallus barely noticed as, their nerves already on edge from the film, both boys let out a startled yell and reflexively covered their heads, scattering popcorn everywhere in the process. Upon realizing a moment later that the bang hadn’t come from the film though, Gallus quickly reached up to switch off the projector, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

“What the budgie was that?” he breathed as he got up, looking around for some clue towards an explanation.

Spike hurried over to switch on a lamp before going to a window, trying to see if there were any clues out there. “I’m not sure!” he admitted when he didn’t find any immediate explanations, “but it must be big because it seems like there’s now a lot of guards flying around outside!”

At about the same time, Gallus heard ponies running past outside their door and went to investigate. Poking his head out, he did so in time to see staff from throughout the palace running by, all seeming to be hurrying towards a particular area of the building. A Royal Guard had also stopped to speak urgently with one of the two Night Guards standing outside their room in hushed whispers, finishing just as Gallus opened the door and leaving little chance of catching anything that was said. Once that guard had finished, he joined with the others hurrying past.

“What’s going on?” Gallus asked the guards at their door.

“Please stay inside your room and await further instructions,” the closest guard instead instructed.

“Why, what’s going on?” Gallus repeated again in a more demanding tone, Spike now joining him at the door. “What’s happened?”

“There’s been an incident,” the guard explained in brief. Two more Night Guards were now joining the first, doubling the amount securing their door. “We don’t know the details yet. For your own safety, stay inside until told otherwise.”

“But…”

“You’ll be told more as soon as we have a better idea of what’s going on and have ensured there’s no danger.” The guard then politely pushed Spike and Gallus back inside and gently closed the door behind them. Gallus got the impression they wouldn’t let them try and open it again anytime soon.

“What the heck is happening?” Spike asked, looking confused and concerned.

“I don’t know,” Gallus admitted, scowling as he started to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, “but something tells me we’re not getting that resolution Raven promised after all.”
> Casualties
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They couldn’t really get back to movie watching after that.

Instead, Gallus spent most of the next couple of hours pacing in circles, concerned about what might be happening and frustrated that they were being left completely out of the loop. Spike likewise seemed on edge as he fitfully went about the room in search of something to distract himself. This mostly translated to him spastically cleaning up the popcorn they’d spilled, then anxiously eating all of that popcorn once Gallus signaled he didn’t want any, before going to clean whatever else he could lay claw on in the room. During all this they got absolutely no new information on what happened other than, whatever it was, it had shaken the whole palace and put everyone on high alert. It wasn’t enough information to even try and speculate theories, though it didn’t stop either of them from doing so with little avail.

Finally, long after the sun had set, Twilight Sparkle arrived at their room, looking somber and stern.

“Finally!” Gallus snapped, rounding on her as she entered. “What the heck is happening out there? Nobody will tell us anything!”

“I apologize for leaving you two in the dark for so long, but a lot has happened and we’re only just starting to get things under some semblance of control,” Twilight responded, all business. “I’ll try to explain along the way, but right now I need you two to come with me.”

Gallus exchanged a glance with Spike, wondering what was up, but they didn’t delay following her out of the room. The now four guards stationed at their door immediately fell into formation around them, escorting them as they walked at a somewhat urgent pace. Outside, things seemed to have mostly calmed down again, but a nervous energy was still apparent all throughout the palace, so Gallus knew he and Spike weren’t the only ones on edge currently.

“First things first,” Twilight began as she resolutely lead the way to a predetermined location. “I need to know everyone you two have spoken with today, what their names are if you can tell me, and, above all else, just what exactly you told them.”

Spike’s face screwed up in a confused grimace at that. “Well,” he began to reply uncertainly, “we spoke with you, your two aides, Gruff, Ditzy…”

“Anyone besides them?” Twilight cut off, narrowing it down.

Both creatures racked their brains for a moment. “Well, there were the guards you had assigned to escort us,” Gallus said, motioning to the two they’d been with for most of the day and were still escorting them even now. “I suppose we also spoke briefly with the kitchen staff when we went down there to make lunch…”

“There’s also all of the medical staff who ran those tests on us this morning,” Spike added. “But all we really talked about with them was the results of those tests.”

“So you haven’t spoken to any other creatures about what we’ve been doing to try and resolve this mess?” Twilight asked. At this point Gallus realized with a jolt of alarm she was leading them back into the medical portion of the palace.

“No, not really…there wasn’t ever any need to,” Spike replied.

“And we knew we should be careful about what we say to who right now anyway,” Gallus added before pointedly asking, “Princess, what’s going on here?”

Twilight breathed a weary sigh. “Not good things, I’m afraid,” she said. “First, those two airships carrying the evidence from Griffonstone and the Dragon Lands arrived, and their cargo was immediately transferred into an evidence locker in the security wing where it was to be processed on demand by the other departments.” Her eyes narrowed. “However, almost immediately after this was finished, an incendiary charge went off inside the locker and promptly destroyed all of that evidence.”

Gallus’s eyes went wide in horror and anger. “…what?”

Spike, however, was thinking about other things. “What about Diorite?” he asked urgently, partly in hopes they still had something worthwhile from the whole endeavor and partly because he didn’t want to hear yet another creature had perished from all this. “You still have him, right?”

“Thankfully, yes,” Twilight confirmed with a short nod. “He was elsewhere at the time the charge went off, being transferred to the dungeons for holding. He’s still there now and under heavy guard, more for his own protection than ours, and I’ve ordered that absolutely no one is allowed to see him under any pretense except in a confirmed medical emergency or Ditzy coming to interrogate him.”

“And what has Ditzy learned from him?” Gallus asked, figuring the pegasus would’ve started on that immediately.

“Ditzy hasn’t begun interrogating him yet and probably won’t get to until tomorrow morning at the earliest,” Twilight however explained, and going from her tone, she was upset and frustrated this was the case. She stopped them at the door to a particular medical room and started to push it open. “That’s the other unfortunate half of what’s happened this evening.”

Inside they found two Night Guard ponies on cots wearing oxygen masks. One was a female bat pony Gallus didn’t know, but the other was Ditzy. Both ponies had their eyes closed, but Ditzy’s opened when they entered the room.

“Ditzy!” Spike declared in alarm and hurrying forward to the pegasus’s side, Gallus trailing behind him in a concerned daze.

“Shh,” Ditzy swiftly shushed in a somewhat raspy voice further muffled by the oxygen mask she wore. She pointed beside her at the other mare. “Swoops is trying to sleep over there.”

Spike glanced at the bat pony and lowered his voice accordingly. “Are you okay?” he then asked, voice dripping with concern.

“I’m fine,” Ditzy assured, waving them both off, “A night on oxygen and probably another thaumic neutralizer booster as a precaution and I should be back on my hooves by morning.”

“But what happened?” Gallus prompted, wanting answers.

Ditzy didn’t reply right away however and instead glanced in Twilight’s direction. Gallus only then noticed that the princess hadn’t followed them into the room right away but stopped in the doorway so to speak with their four escorts. When she’d finished, they all remained outside of the room while Twilight entered, closing and locking the door behind her. She then cast a spell on top of that, which Gallus suspected was done to curtail any eavesdropping and ensure absolute privacy, sending a chill down his spine at how serious the situation was being treated.

It was only when Twilight had taken all of these measures and joined them that Ditzy spoke again, and even then it wasn’t to answer Gallus’s question. “Gallus and Spike,” she began seriously, drawing their full attention back to her. “I need you to listen carefully and answer with complete truthfulness. You two are among only a hoofful of creatures who knew I would be investigating Streamline today, the second-in-command of the airship that attacked Spark. Did you tell anyone else about this?”

Spike was taken aback at the suggestion. “No, of course not!” he promptly assured.

“You made it pretty clear what could happen if we didn’t keep quiet about it,” Gallus added, filling with dread as he started to suspect where this was going.

Ditzy sighed wearily and leaned back on her cot. “I figured you two would say that,” she said and gave them a relieved but bittersweet grin, though it quickly faded. “But that also means we potentially have a very big problem.”

“What are you saying?” Spike asked, also growing concerned.

“Earlier, I took Swoops to go and meet Streamline at his home on the outskirts of Canterlot, so to question him about what happened the day Spark died,” Ditzy explained seriously, “But as we were wrapping up, a grenade filled with Choker’s Gas suddenly smashed its way through his living room window.”

“Choker’s Gas?” Gallus repeated, unfamiliar with the substance.

“A magically imbued gas meant to be used for extreme combat situations,” Twilight explained darkly. “If inhaled, it directly targets the victim’s lungs and causes them to completely stop functioning, effectively suffocating the victim.”

“And this grenade released enough to fill the whole room nearly instantly,” Ditzy continued as Gallus and Spike both looked on in horror. “Swoops and I were lucky enough to get to safety with minimal exposure and further countered the gas’s effects with thaumic neutralizers from some first aid kits I had the foresight to bring along.” Her expression turned grave. “But we weren’t the targets, Streamline was. And unfortunately…we weren’t able to get to him in time.”

Gallus groaned and buried his face in his talons in dismay at this newest complication while Spike closed his eyes and hung his head. Meanwhile, Twilight finished driving the point home. “About a half-hour after this happened,” she concluded, “that incendiary charge I told you about went off in the evidence locker.”

“Someone planned all this,” Gallus deduced with a frustrated growl.

“And in order for that someone to do it all this swiftly,” Ditzy continued, “they would have to be getting reliable inside information from someone very high up the chain of command.”

“And to have that,” Twilight added seriously, “means that someone in this palace is a traitor. We just don’t know who.”

A heavy silence fell after that reveal. Gallus sat down on his haunches, feeling blown away by how much worse this mess was getting with what felt like every passing day.

“There is a small upside though,” Ditzy then continued, shining a faint ray of light on all this gloom and doom. “The fact our mystery ringleader has done this by resorting to such extreme measures suggests they’re trying to cover their tracks very urgently. That tells me we’re on the right track to uncovering them and the fact we’re getting so close has them spooked.”

“That doesn’t mean all that much if creatures keep dying over this though!” Spike bemoaned in frustration.

Gallus draped a wing over the little dragon and shifted the subject. “Did you at least get something out of Streamline before everything went south?” he asked.

Ditzy nodded. “Like I said, Swoops and I were wrapping up when that grenade dropped in,” she explained. “And Streamline was more cooperative than I expected. He seemed to have understood the seriousness of his situation for years.” She nodded her head at Spike. “You were actually right to guess that Static Lift’s death spooked him, fearing he’d be next if he didn’t keep quiet.” She closed her eyes sadly for a moment. “And he’s now been proven right…but at least he died trying to come clean.”

She glanced at Twilight at this point, who nodded for Ditzy to continue. “Go ahead and tell them what you told me, Ditzy,” she said. “It’s clear whoever the leak was, it wasn’t them.”

Ditzy nodded and turned her attention back to Spike and Gallus. “Streamline confirmed things basically as I’d already deduced,” she explained. “He, Static Lift, and a civilian pilot Streamline had never met before but assumed was under private contract with the Royal Guard, boarded an airship undergoing refits and disembarked under the cover of a brief test cruise. In reality, Streamline was told they were undertaking a secret mission to stop a dangerous creature. He was told little else beyond that, leaving only Static Lift, as the flight commander, to know the full mission details. Streamline had the impression they were hunting a deadly criminal.”

“In reality, they were hunting Spark,” Spike surmised coldly.

Ditzy nodded. “It was as they were approaching Spark that Streamline started to suspect something amiss,” she said, “because according to him, when Spark came into view and sighted them, no doubt IDing them as a Royal Guard craft, he flew directly towards them as if trying to flag them down. He didn’t seem to be posing any meaningful threat at all. Nonetheless, Static Lift, operating the ship’s harpoon, shot Spark down with one lethal shot. Then, to Streamline’s further bewilderment, Static Lift went alone down to Spark’s body, taking a dagger with him.”

“He was staging the crime scene to look like Spark was mobbed and stabbed to death instead of killed by a harpoon, like how Gruff later found him,” Gallus realized with a scowl.

Again, Ditzy nodded. “Streamline said Static Lift returned to the airship with both clothes and dagger bloodstained, having retrieved the killing harpoon. He then ordered they return to Canterlot, leaving Spark’s body effectively where it’d fallen. On the way back, Static Lift destroyed the harpoon, dagger, and bloodstained clothes. He also made Streamline and the civilian pilot swear to secrecy and promised they would be well paid for their troubles. Streamline did indeed receive a hefty but anonymous paycheck deposited into his bank account just days later, but he strongly suspected something was very amiss and it left him rattled. But he didn’t know who’d assigned this mission or told Static Lift to carry it out, much less why, leaving him uncertain as to who he could turn to. In the meantime, he also noticed Static Lift was never quite the same afterwards and suspected the murder weighed on him far more than let on, at least until he died nearly a moon later.”

“Was that why he was killed?” Gallus asked. “It was clear he was starting to get second thoughts about the whole thing?”

“Streamline thought so,” Ditzy said. “And he didn’t believe Static died of natural causes for a second. So, fearing for his own life, he continued to keep it all to himself…until Swoops and I came knocking on his door and asked him directly, at which point his resolve caved.” Her gaze turned distant. “I can’t help but wonder if he hoped us investigating it now meant he’d finally have a way out and into safety. I’m just sorry we weren’t able to give him that.”

“What about the civilian pilot?” Spike asked.

“I don’t know and neither did Streamline,” Ditzy admitted sadly. “He’d never seen the pony before that day and never saw him again afterwards. He never learned his name either. But as morbid as this will sound, at the rate things are going, I worry that even if we do ID that pilot, we’re just going to find out he’s been killed too.”

“But you’re still going to try anyway, aren’t you?” Twilight guessed knowingly.

“Of course,” Ditzy vowed. “I still have a few routes through which I can try to find out more. But to be honest, princess, I’d rather try and interrogate Diorite first and get what we can out of him before something happens to him too.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said before patting the recovering pegasus on the leg. “But you can’t really do that in this state so we’re taking the risk and letting you finish resting up first. Like I told you earlier, I’ve got Diorite under heavy guard and constant watch, so much so I’m hoping that even if someone tries to attack him, they’d still be discouraged from it with how many eyes are watching him.”

“What about the evidence locker?” Spike asked. “How does that fit into this?”

“Personally, I suspect it was the same creature who set fire to Gene Type’s apartment,” Ditzy said. “Possibly even the one who threw that grenade of Choker’s Gas. Whoever they are though, I’ll bet they were hired by our mastermind, the one getting the information needed so to stage these attacks.”

“In any case, I worry this…mercenary, for lack of a better term…could still be lurking nearby, maybe even hiding in plain sight,” Twilight said. “So we absolutely cannot let our guard down any more. If anything, we should be upping it.”

Gallus rubbed at his face. “Yeah, we don’t want anyone else to end up like Streamline did,” he said. “Or anyone else who’s been hurt in all this nonsense.”

“Speaking of, I meant to ask earlier,” Spike piped in. “Was anyone hurt in the evidence locker fire?”

Gallus noticed in the corner of his eye Ditzy sharply looking at Twilight, as if disappointed she hadn’t already answered this question, which led Gallus to focus his full attention on Twilight, fearing that answer.

It seemed he did indeed have cause for concern, because Twilight hesitated to reply. “There were no deaths,” she reported, “but there were creatures injured—two guards and…an assisting civilian.”

“Assisting civilian?” Gallus repeated, but then his body went cold as he realized who that could only be. “…Gruff.”





Gruff was in another room, lying in a cot and out cold. His head bore a white bandage wrapped tightly around it and he appeared to have been in a scuffle as his body bore other visible scratches and bumps. He seemed oddly still and frail lying there, so much so that if it wasn’t for the heart monitor steadily beeping beside him, Gallus wasn’t sure he could even tell the elderly griffon was still alive. For a long moment Gallus just stood there, taking in the unfortunate sight with more horror than he was prepared to experience. Finally, he swallowed uncomfortably and turned to the attending physician.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“He suffered a blow to the head, resulting in a concussion,” the doctor explained patiently but sympathetically. “He also suffered bruising to the ribs. Physically speaking, he’ll live, but these are serious injuries for a creature of his age, so he’s lucky he doesn’t seem to be suffering from any additional complications that we can find. As it is, though, he’s lapsed into a coma so now coming back out of it is up to him. Until then, all we can do is wait and hope for the best.”

Twilight, standing behind Gallus, placed a hoof on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “We’ll make sure he gets all the treatment he needs until then, Gallus,” she reassured.

Gallus shrugged off her hoof though, staring at the incapacitated griffon and trying to process just what he was feeling about this.

“How did this happen?” Spike meanwhile asked, looking likewise concerned for Gruff, but from the looks he kept giving Gallus, he was even more concerned for the younger griffon.

Instead of the doctor or Twilight answering though, a new voice replied. “He was trying to catch the culprit.”

Gallus turned to see the other patient in the room, a female unicorn, lying in her own cot and with a faraway gaze on her face. Judging from the armor left lying nearby, she was a member of the Night Guard and presumably one of the two guards Twilight had mentioned were also injured in the evidence locker’s destruction. The bandages around her barrel certainly seemed to indicate that at least.

Twilight motioned to the unicorn. “Spike, Gallus, this is Lieutenant Eve Spark,” she introduced calmly. “She was one of the guards overseeing the delivery and securing of the evidence.”

“Before it all went up in flames in front of everyone,” Eve Spark mumbled depreciatingly.

“I’m sure you did all you could’ve, lieutenant,” Spike offered gently, trying to comfort the clearly upset mare.

Eve snorted but didn’t argue the point further.

Gallus stared forlornly at Gruff for another moment before forcing himself to give the unicorn his full attention. “What exactly happened with Gruff, lieutenant?” he asked. “How did he get injured?”

Eve didn’t reply right away, reflecting internally on whatever had transpired. “Honestly, he shouldn’t have even been there,” she began by stressing, but her resolve for that statement crumbled as soon as she said it. “Or maybe he should’ve, because he had little faith we could really keep the evidence secure…and clearly he had a point.” She shook her head. “In any case, he was insisting on at least observing the storing of the evidence and ensuring it went as planned. He must’ve made a scene doing so, because the higher-ups granted his request and so there he was, right there beside us, waiting for the first of the airships to arrive. I…didn’t really want him there, so we butted heads until I got him to follow my instructions. Most I heard out of him after that was him grumbling about this and that.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Gruff all right,” Gallus admitted softly, unable to stop himself from glancing over at Gruff once again.

“Still, he wasn’t just dead weight once the airship from the Dragon Lands arrived,” Eve continued, gaze still distant. “He was right there helping us offload it and move it into the evidence locker, though I think he did that mostly because he didn’t trust us with it.”

“He…has been through a few things involving this whole matter,” Spike reasoned aloud here in an attempt to defend Gruff. “It kinda made him…” he paused, seeking the right word.

“Paranoid,” Gallus offered bluntly, his gaze turning back to Eve and trying to ignore Gruff lying behind him for the moment.

Spike winced, looking like he didn’t entirely agree, but rather than debate it, he pressed on like he hadn’t trailed off at all. “…about strangers he didn’t know. So he was just…wanting to be sure.”

Eve snorted again, sounding like she had mixed feelings about it. “Well, we got the Dragon Lands evidence loaded into the locker without incident and proceeded to wait for about a half-hour or so until the airship from Griffonstone arrived and we started doing the same with it,” she continued relating. “We’d just finished and were closing up the locker again when I catch sight of him shouting and running off behind some nearby storage shelves. I shouted at him to come back then started to go after him myself when he didn’t. I barely got three trots in before the evidence locker beside me suddenly explodes in flames and I’m on the floor. At first I thought the blast simply knocked me over, but then I realized I took a sizeable piece of shrapnel to the belly.” She grumpily motioned to her bandaged barrel at this.

Spike winced again. “Guess that’s why you’re here now, huh?” he surmised.

“Fortunately, it missed anything vital and she mostly just needed stitches,” the doctor, who had been listening, piped in. “We’re just keeping her here for observation as a precaution. The lieutenant got lucky, as did the other guard who was injured—he only suffered a bad gash to their wing and some whiplash from the blast.”

“Whatever the case,” Eve snapped at that point, getting back on topic, “It left me wounded enough that I’m basically immobile and can’t do anything, much less pursue someone, until other guards come running in to assist.” She lowered her head. “I of course send some of them after Gruff, but he was already like that when they found him several feet away.”

“You did everything you could exactly as you should’ve, lieutenant,” Twilight interjected here, trying to reassure the injured unicorn. “It wasn’t your fault Gruff rushed off on his own without telling anyone or bringing anyone with.”

Eve averted her gaze from the alicorn though. “…doesn’t make me feel any better about it though…”

“You said Gruff was chasing after the culprit though?” Spike asked at this point, ensuring he understood clearly what had happened. “What makes you so sure? Did you see them?”

“No,” Eve admitted flatly, “but from the way Gruff had been shouting and hollering when he ran off, he’d clearly seen someone who shouldn’t have been there. And considering the evidence locker went up in flames almost immediately afterwards…”

“It is too much of a coincidence to have been anyone else,” Gallus admitted, beginning to pace aimlessly in circles. He was keeping his eyes on the floor now in an attempt to keep from looking at Gruff.

“He clearly caught up with the culprit enough to attack them before getting knocked out,” the doctor added, trying to be informative. “His other scratches and bumps are consistent with a fight.”

“Then at least he got a few blows in on our guy,” Gallus noted, glancing up at Gruff. He somewhat regretted it as the sight of the unconscious griffon made his heart sink and feel confusing emotions once again.

“The culprit must’ve managed to get behind him though, as he was clearly struck to the back of the head with enough force it probably knocked him out almost immediately,” the doctor surmised.

“And unfortunately, that culprit still got away,” Twilight added with a heavy sigh, “with no one else having seen them or knowing who they were, let alone how they got inside the palace to begin with.”

“Making Gruff the only one who got a good look at them,” Spike concluded, also gazing forlornly at Gruff lying in his cot.

“Whoever they were, they knew precisely what they were doing,” Eve groused aloud, still inclined to beat herself up over it. “They waited until all the evidence was in the locker and everyone was looking the wrong way except for Gruff before hurling that incendiary charge into it.”

“How do you know the charge hadn’t been planted inside the locker in advance, operating on a timer?” Twilight asked more out of curiosity than doubt.

“Then they wouldn’t have stuck around waiting for it to go off and risk getting noticed like they did, princess,” Eve answered without meeting Twilight’s eyes. “Besides, charges like that typically only come in the grenade sort and work on short enough of a fuse that throwing them at your target is really the only way to do it. Anything else would’ve been too big and bulky to not have been noticed right away while we were moving the evidence. And anyway, we were in and out of that locker often enough we would’ve easily noticed if someone was there setting something up, so if it had been planted in advance, it would’ve had to have happened aboard the airship that brought it, and if they could’ve done that…”

“…then why not just destroy the evidence there on the airship?” Twilight quietly finished, nodding her head in agreement with Eve’s assessment.

“They probably knew another airship was carrying evidence too, so maybe they were just waiting until it was all in one spot before detonating it?” Spike suggested.

“That still doesn’t disprove Eve’s points about how the grenade was probably the easiest way to do it without immediate detection, in which case there wasn’t much point being on the airship for sabotage at all,” Twilight countered. “And now that I think about it, if our masterminds behind this whole plot could get a saboteur on one of the airships, then why not just ensure saboteurs on both airships and be done with it?”

“Point is that none of us know enough to say one way or the other!” Gallus snapped at them without warning. “So there’s no good speculating!” He then gazed forlornly at Gruff, having given up trying to ignore it. “We’re back at square one anyway.”

Spike was suddenly at his side, concerned. “Are you okay, Gallus?” he asked.

Gallus hesitated, unsure how to answer.

“Well, in any case,” the doctor said, seeing the debate had largely run its course, “I have other patients I need to attend to and for now there’s little else to do here.” He motioned to the visiting trio. “You’re welcome to stay if you wish. I just ask you do not do anything to disturb my patients, particularly as they should be getting some rest at this late hour.” He gave Eve a pointed look at that. “If anything is needed, you know how to call for me or others of the medical staff.”

Twilight sighed as the doctor left. “I admittedly still have more messes to sort through myself,” she admitted as she likewise prepared to leave. “Will you two be going back to your room?” she then asked, glancing at Spike and Gallus.

Gallus didn’t respond or break his gaze from Gruff. He felt Spike shuffle at his side and the dragon’s eyes glance up at him. “…I think we’re going to stay here for a bit, Twilight,” Spike replied on the behalf of them both, staying close to Gallus.

Thankfully, Twilight understood. “All right then,” she said. “If you’re still here when I’m done, I’ll come back to check on you two. I just ask that you have two escorts in here to keep watch while the other two keep standing guard at the door outside, okay?”

Getting a silent nod of agreement from Spike, she left too but not before sending in two of their Night Guard escorts. Gallus side-glanced at them, feeling somewhat annoyed by their presence, but he also understood why enough to not protest. He resumed locking his eyes with Gruff lying in his cot.

After a moment of silence, Spike quietly urged him to sit down in a nearby chair against the wall. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked as they did this.

“…I don’t know,” Gallus finally admitted, unable to put into words how he was feeling. “I just…this all caught me off guard. I wasn’t prepared for this.” He snorted. “Somehow despite everything else that’s happened before now.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to stop him from being hurt,” Eve remarked suddenly, proving she was still listening.

Gallus made a sarcastic and fake singular laugh at that, turning his head in her direction. For the first time, she was looking back at them directly. “You know, he brought this upon himself,” he snapped, pointing at Gruff. “It’s like you said, he shouldn’t have even been there, but he was because he just couldn’t trust others. He doesn’t trust anyone, let alone me, so much so he actively tried to push me away. So what makes you think I care?”

Eve’s gaze became pointed. “You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.”

That silenced Gallus. So her point made, Eve settled down on her cot and tried to get to sleep. Spike, meanwhile, looked back and forth between the two. Eventually, he settled his concerned gaze back on Gallus.

“Look, it’s okay,” he assured Gallus, rubbing at his shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong about showing concern anyway.”

“Why him though?” Gallus asked aloud in a soft whisper, staring at Gruff again. “Why do I care? That griffon has not only been a jerk to me pretty much the whole time I’ve known him, he also lied and deliberately withheld information from us both. Part of the whole reason we’re in this mess is because he never bothered to forewarn me of the dangers lurking out there, giving me no chance to take precautions that could’ve avoided it. I should have no reason to want to care about him. So why him?”

Spike was silent for a moment, continuing to rub Gallus’s shoulder. “Because now you know why he did all that—so to protect you. He proved that he does care about you…a lot more than he let on.”

Once again, Gallus found he couldn’t counter that. So he didn’t, instead letting the silence fall and his mind quietly process the quandary while Spike sat beside him and kept him company, allowing him the peace and time to do so. They stayed like that for a good long while, though Gallus barely noticed with how gridlocked his brain currently felt. Eventually, it grew late enough that Spike fell asleep, snuggled into Gallus’s side, and Gallus in turn reflexively wrapped one leg around him to keep him close, glad to have his company, awake or asleep. Tiredness was starting to seep into his own body too, but Gallus stubbornly ignored it, still trying to come to terms with what he was feeling.

“You know, my mother used to say that if you keep making faces like that, it’ll freeze like that one day.”

Blinking, Gallus snapped out of his revere to see that Twilight had returned as promised and was now standing beside where he and Spike sat. Gallus blushed a little and averted his gaze, embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed the princess enter. “Sorry, I’ve just…been thinking.”

“Pretty hard, apparently,” Twilight observed, taking the liberty of sitting down beside him. Her gaze turned from joking to sympathetic as she nodded her head at Gruff in his cot. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

Gallus hesitated, making a frustrated moan, but at least conceded he could no longer deny it. “…yeah, I guess I am,” he admitted finally. He stopped to draw in a deep breath. “I’m…still not sure why though.” He gazed sadly at Gruff’s unconscious form. “I’m still not exactly pleased with how he handled…all of this. And I still feel like I should be at least a little furious with him, but now, seeing him like this…” he sighed, saddened. “…I guess it’s not as straightforward as I thought.”

“Being unhappy with someone isn’t the same as wanting harm to befall them,” Twilight pointed out wisely. She gave him an encouraging nudge. “Honestly, Gallus, I think it just proves how good and caring a creature you actually are, still feeling concern for those that also have your ire.” She studied him for a moment. “If it helps, I’ve been there a few times myself. You don’t fight and then reform as many villains as I have—Discord, Trixie, Starlight even—without feeling that…conflicting clash of emotions…at some point.”

“How do you come to terms with it then?” Gallus mumbled, propping his beak on his talons as he continued gazing forlornly ahead at Gruff.

“Usually, I try to focus on all of the good things that creature’s also done, or still has the potential to do,” Twilight replied and nodded her head at Gruff. “We may not like some of his methods, but can you really say he hasn’t done what he has with good intentions in mind?”

Gallus sighed again. “…I suppose he did save my life earlier,” he admitted, thinking of the incident with Commodore Garrett. He grinned a little. “He also tried to help…my parents…when they were in trouble and at great risk to himself. Even when he ultimately couldn’t prevent what happened…he didn’t give up trying in other ways. And he did try to stop whoever blew up the evidence locker, even if unsuccessfully.” Gallus’s grin grew a little more as he started to see what good Gruff had done. But then it faded as he thought about how it related to himself. “It’s just…when he found out I was still out there…he wasn’t there for me when I needed him. Or at least it didn’t feel like it to me.” He felt his eyes water a little. “And I don’t think he realizes just how much I needed that…then or now.”

Twilight sighed herself and nodded. “I can see how that’s frustrating for you,” she relented gently. “And I won’t say everything he’s done was correct, especially in regards to you, because there probably was more he should’ve done. But Gallus…” she leaned closer. “…did you ever consider that maybe the reason why that bothers you so much is because you wanted him to be there for you?”

Gallus turned that over in his head for a moment. He wasn’t sure he liked the implications. “Well…he wasn’t in any case,” he conceded, brushing aside the point. He let his body sag a little, dejected nonetheless. “And…I don’t think he ever will be…not how I needed him to be, at least.”

“Perhaps not,” Twilight said, “and it’d be unfair to expect either of you to be. That’s not really my point anyway. I’m just…trying to help you come to terms with the fact that, conscious of it or not, you care about what happens to him a lot more than you thought, and…that needn’t be a bad thing.” She nodded her head at Gruff again. “I think there are some aspects of him that deserve that care, even past his other failings.” She looked back at Gallus. “Regardless of however you think you should feel about him, you didn’t want to see him hurt any more than you would anyone else.”

Gallus hummed to that, unable to deny it. “So many have been hurt throughout all of this though,” he pointed out, semi-deliberately shifting the topic. “And I’m getting…kinda sick and tired of it.” He finally pulled his gaze off of Gruff and onto the alicorn beside him. “How many more are going to end up in harm’s way before we’ve put an end to this, princess?”

Twilight breathed a heavy sigh. “I wish I could tell you, Gallus,” she admitted. “But I’d be lying if I haven’t been asking myself that same question. Just when I think we’re finally making progress, finally about to end it, things like this happen and prove we’re not actually as close as we thought…and I still don’t know how much longer we’ll have to endure it until we finally get there.” She shook her head and attempted to put on a braver face. “But…you should realize just as well as I do that…you aren’t enduring it alone.”

She motioned to Spike asleep against Gallus’s other side. His heart warming at the sight, Gallus gave the sleeping dragon a friendly squeeze, again savoring the company.

Twilight watched this in thoughtful silence for a moment. “You know, I’m surprised at just how much you two have bonded in so little time.”

His grin returning a little, Gallus gave her a knowing look. “We’ve been through a lot the past few days with only each other to count on, princess,” he pointed out. “And besides, it turns out we have a bit in common…brothers or not.” His gaze turned distant for a moment. “That’s still weird to think about, though…him being my little brother.”

Twilight’s gaze turned distant for a moment too before she drew in a deep and bracing breath. “I’ve…been meaning to talk to you about that, in fact,” she admitted quietly. “I had thought about maybe waiting until after we’ve got this current situation sorted out, so to not have it weighing on our heads too, but…” she licked her lips uncomfortably, “…after Spike hatched and my family ended up taking him in…we’ve…I’ve…always seen him as part of that family, adopted or otherwise, so…”

Gallus nodded, believing he understood. “Don’t worry, I won’t stand between you and him being family still,” he quickly reassured.

“I know you won’t,” Twilight agreed back. “And I don’t want to stand in the way of you two embracing your newfound brotherhood either. That’s…not what I’m trying to say here.” She took another deep breath and tried again. “Gallus, with you being Spike’s brother, I want you to know that, as far as I’m concerned…that makes you part of the family too.”

Gallus’s eyes widened, not expecting that. “Ah…wow, okay…” he swallowed awkwardly. “…I, uh, I don’t know what to say…so…”

Twilight waved a hoof for him to not sweat about it so much. “Of course I’m not expecting you to suddenly think of me as a sister or anything like that,” she clarified, easing the expectations some. “You don’t need to feel like you have to give me or the rest of my family special treatment or that you’re now obligated to associate with us if you don’t want to.”  She put a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “I know that you’re a…very independent sort of creature, Gallus, who wants to go at it alone more often than not. And I understand that. Respect it, even. I just want you to know that, if you ever don’t want to do that for anything, you don’t have to. You have that option now. And if you ever find yourself in over your head, you can count on me and the rest of my family to help you out in those times. So mostly I just want you to know that, if you ever need anything, anything you wouldn’t be comfortable taking to anyone else, or even just questions or concerns on anything in general…you can come to me or the rest of my family with it and we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

Touched to the point of feeling overwhelmed, Gallus opened and closed his beak several times, trying to figure out what to say. “I…thank you, princess. That’s…very kind of you to offer.” He averted his gaze, feeling awkward. “I, uh, don’t know if I’ll actually take you up on that offer anytime soon, but…”

Again Twilight waved that matter aside. “That’s fine,” she said. “I just want you to know it’s an option and…I don’t want you feeling like I’m a stranger for these sort of things. I owe you that much. Especially after everything you did to help keep Spike safe.”

Gallus humbly shrugged at that. “It was a group effort, really,” he reminded.

“I know, and I know Spike’s very capable on his own too,” Twilight confirmed. “But…in these particular circumstances…I don’t know if he would’ve gotten out of it safely if you hadn’t been there looking out for him.” She bit her lip for a moment. “Can I relate one more personal thing with you, Gallus?”

Gallus glanced at her in surprise, wondering what other personal things she could possibly have to say at this point. “Of-of course!”

“Though he’s always been happy to be part of my family…Spike’s also self-aware we weren’t his biological family. And he’s gotten good at keeping that to himself over the years, but I’d long wished I could bring him some closure on that.” She glanced approvingly at Gallus. “So…even though it wasn’t how any of us expected…I’m glad he’s finally found a bit of that biological family now.”

Gallus breathed a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling like the weight of the world was on his back. “I just hope I can live up to his expectations.”

Twilight smiled as she watched him give the sleeping dragon another caring squeeze. “I think you already are,” she assured.

Gallus couldn’t begin to put into words just how reassuring that vote of confidence was for him. So he settled by letting a big and happy grin spread onto his face. They both fell silent for a long moment but eventually Gallus’s eyes wandered back to the injured creature that’d originally brought them here and sighed. “I suppose there really isn’t much else I can do for him right now, huh?” he asked, gazing at Gruff.

Twilight sadly shook her head. “I’m afraid the doctor was right—recovering fully is now up to Gruff, so the best we can do is just make sure he stays healthy and leave him to it.” She glanced around for a moment. “If it will help, I can have a guard stationed at his door as a precaution, have them send for you right away should there be any drastic changes.”

Gallus considered that for a moment then nodded his head. “Yeah…I think I’d like that.”

Twilight nodded back. “I’ll see to it then,” she assured before giving him a gentle nudge. “In the meantime…I think it’s past time you both got to bed yourselves. Spike’s obviously already out and you look exhausted yourself.”

Suddenly Gallus felt dead on his feet and was forced to agree. “Bed does sound like a good idea right now,” he admitted.

So with that, he stood up and, transferring the sleeping Spike to his back, allowed Twilight to escort him back through the now quiet palace to their room. Bidding the princess a good night and another thank you for all she was doing, she then departed for her own bed while Gallus turned his attention to theirs. He first made sure Spike was caringly tucked in first before also crawling into the covers on the other side of the spacious bed. As he curled up and let sleep take him finally, he mulled upon the warm and fluttery feeling filling his chest. He felt…loved and looked after. Pleased by that, he hoped he wouldn’t have to go without that again anytime soon.
> Paper Trail
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gallus slept peacefully the rest of the night and on into part of the next morning. Unlike the previous two mornings where he awoke to find it bright, sunny, and overall pleasantly warm, this particular morning was a bit dimmer, somewhat cloudier, and cooler. In the back of his head, Gallus dimly recalled seeing the Canterlot weather schedule indicating the weather teams would be increasing the local cloud cover so to ensure temperatures didn’t get too high in the area. In any case, this weather, while not really gloomy per se, wasn’t very upbeat either. So since he knew he didn’t really have anywhere he needed to be today, Gallus’s first instinct was to try and sleep in a little—he would daresay he was overdue for that honor.

And he did for a little bit, getting perhaps not quite another hour’s worth of sleep before he was woken up by Spike crawling out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Apparently it was now the dragon’s turn to be rudely awoken by nature calling. While Gallus was under no obligation to get up too, he felt awake enough to decide he might as well anyway and, stretching, crawled out of bed. As he did, he eyed the room’s brass speaking tube for a moment. He considered calling down to the kitchens and requesting something for breakfast before remembering he probably wouldn’t get it until Twilight had checked it over first and opted to wait.

By that point Spike had exited the bathroom, so Gallus popped inside next so to freshen up real quick before rejoining him in the room. “So,” he said as he sat down on the bed, “what do you want to do today?”

Spike sighed and shrugged. “I suppose it depends on whether or not they’ve had any luck finding our culprits,” he reasoned and glanced at Gallus. “Have you heard anything new on that?”

“Not yet,” Gallus admitted before wincing. “But then I haven’t exactly asked either.”

“Well, let’s ask the guards outside,” Spike reasoned, getting up. “They should be up to date on everything.”

“And if they’ve got nothing new to tell us anyway?” Gallus asked, thinking that if there was anything of note to tell, they either would’ve already come to tell them or asked to meet up.

Again, Spike shrugged. “Then worst case we’ll have to come up with something to entertain ourselves in the meantime,” he reasoned simply as he stopped by the door. He rubbed at his belly. “Or at least get breakfast—I am feeling a little hungry.”

“Yeah, how do you want to handle that this time?” Gallus asked, getting up so to join him at the door. “Go through Princess Twilight magically molesting whatever breakfasts the kitchens cook up for us or go and make something ourselves?”

Spike sighed. “Admittedly, I don’t really want to put up with either. Is it really too much to just ask for a plate of…I don’t know…”

“Prench toast?” Gallus suggested, the first breakfast food that sprang to mind, but now that he thought about it, Prench toast did sound pretty good.

Apparently Spike felt similarly. “…I could go for some Prench toast, actually,” he admitted, “with just the right amount of cinnamon, moderately buttered, heavy on the maple syrup…”

“…maybe some powdered sugar and whipped topping to go on top?” Gallus suggested, feeling his own stomach rumble eagerly at the thought.

Spike hummed in approval, licking his lips. “Ooh yeah, with a cold glass of creamy milk on the side…”

Gallus had to wipe a speck of drool from his beak quickly. “We’d better stop before we make our empty stomachs implode from hunger,” he quipped with a smirk.

Spike shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Good idea,” he agreed and got back to what he was saying before. “But would it really be too much to ask for a plate of Prench toast be delivered without all that fuss?”

“Apparently, so long as we have active killers on the loose looking for us,” Gallus said with a sigh. “I don’t know, I’m getting real tired of this nonsense too. Let’s just catch these guys and be done with it already.”

“No arguments from me on that,” Spike said before letting out a dejected sigh, sitting down in front of the door and leaning his head against it. “Particularly as that’d mean we can stop anybody else from being hurt.”

Gallus felt his own lungs deflate bleakly and joined him. “Yeah,” he agreed before running his talons down his face, thinking about Gruff in his coma—since nobody had alerted him about any changes, he can only assume the old griffon was still in the same state as last night. “You know, these jerks really stink. They’re willing to put anybody in danger just because they can’t handle some quirky genetics.”

Spike made an amused scoff. “That’s one way of putting it,” he agreed. He wrapped one arm over his eyes wearily. “They’re also spoiling our fun—we should be out celebrating that we’re family now, not staying cooped up in a palace afraid every little thing could be a trap to kill us.”

Gallus let his gaze become unfocused, mulling over the family angle for a moment. “What are we going to do about that once this is all over anyway?” he asked, “This whole…being family thing?”

Spike let his arm fall onto his belly with a plop, brow furrowing as he considered the question. “You know, I still haven’t really thought about it,” he admitted. “I’ve been so distracted by everything else that I haven’t considered the future like that.” He went quiet as he gave it another moment of thought. “I suppose in the short term we’d still have to go back to life as normal, because I still have duties here as assistant advisor and you still have classes to finish back at the school.”

“Point taken,” Gallus agreed though the thought disappointed him. Still, Spike was right—none of this changed the respective commitments they would need to get back to and didn’t exactly run parallel with each other anymore. Gallus suddenly found himself wishing they’d learned all of this a year or two sooner, when Spike was still working at the school and where Gallus could’ve seen him more regularly. “But we can still meet up and hang out whenever we can…right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Spike agreed without hesitation. He grinned happily at that suggestion. “We’ve still got a lot to get caught up on as brothers, after all.”

“True that,” Gallus said and started planning ahead what sort of activities they could do. He smirked as one immediately sprang to mind. “Maybe I can take you on a hunt.” He couldn’t help but snicker upon noticing Spike’s face pale at the thought. “Hey, as your brother, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least teach you the basics at some point.” He gave him a playful nudge. “We can ease your way into though—Professor Fluttershy lets some of us predators practice on the nearly recovered animals at her shelter in a sort of play hunt, so both the hunters and the hunted can refresh our skills without anything actually being…you know…”

Spike sighed, still not looking particularly eager to do it, but also having no good reasons to avoid it. Knowing Gallus had a point about him learning anyway, he gave the griffon a grin. “All right, I guess we can start with that,” he said, before sitting up a little. “But if we’re doing that, then sometime I gotta take you to Dragon Town, get you better acquainted with your dragon side.”

Gallus raised an eyebrow. “Dragon Town?” he repeated, not familiar with it.

“It’s in Fillydelphia, a district of the city populated almost exclusively by dragons.”

Gallus perked up, surprised. “Seriously? I’ve never heard of it before. And I know a dragon.”

“I don’t think Smolder’s ever been there herself, but I guess that’s not too surprising, since the dragons that live there don’t really associate with the dragons back in the Dragon Lands. Apparently there was this ancient schism between the western dragons and the eastern dragons, and, long story short, the eastern dragons eventually left and settled down in a then-unpopulated area of Fillydelphia in exchange for helping dig up resources the pony population used for building. They don’t really associate with ponies or any creature else beyond that and the odd special occasion…but I think they’d be a little more welcoming of a couple hybrids like us than those in the Dragon Lands. At the very least I know one or two dragons there that should be open to the idea.”

“Cool,” Gallus said. And he found himself more intrigued by the idea than he thought. Experiencing some dragon culture for himself did sound kinda awesome. And he supposed it would only be fair, considering Spike had already seen his own stomping grounds in Griffonstone, for better or worse. “Yeah, I guess we can do that at some point in the near future…maybe during a long weekend or the next summer break or something.”

“I guess we have made some plans for the future then,” Spike concluded happily. “Something we can do together, just us bros.”

Gallus chuckled and gave him a wink. “I’m looking forward to it then.”

He was about to suggest if they had any other ideas for things to do together when he heard the latch above his head click and, before either of them could react, the doors they were leaning against suddenly swung away, causing them to topple over onto the floor in time to see Raven Inkwell, about to enter, jump back in surprise. For a moment they all looked at each other in confusion while the guards stationed beside the door leaned over so to see too.

Finally Gallus smirked and clapped his talons together. “So,” he said as he gazed up at Raven from the floor, “what’s up?”

Spike let out an amused snort from beside him.

Raven grinned a little too as she looked down at them. “I was actually coming to get you,” she explained. “The princess has requested we all meet up and report in.”





Flanked by the usual escort of guards, Raven led them down to the same private dining room they’d all met in the previous morning. There waiting for them was Twilight, Kibitz, and a recovered Ditzy, the latter of whom was heartening to see on her hooves and back in uniform like the previous day’s events hadn’t happened. But Gallus couldn’t help but notice Gruff’s conspicuous absence this time around and was depressed about him not being here too. Nevertheless he kept that to himself, particularly as Spike reacted with delight to see Ditzy.

“Ditzy!” he declared happily as they sat in roughly the same seats they had when they all met yesterday. “How are you doing? Feeling better?”

Ditzy cleared her throat before answering, showing her voice still had a small rasp to it. “Well, I’m probably not running any marathons for a couple of days,” she admitted with a small grin, “but other than that I’m back to normal, so thanks for asking.”

“We’re all glad you’re okay, Ditzy,” Twilight took that moment to interject, taking control of the conversation, “but we still have a bigger situation to resolve.”

“No doubt as evidenced by the weaponry at the table,” Kibitz remarked aloud in a disapproving tone, nodding at the crossbow and enchanted arrows Ditzy also had on the table. Raven, who’d sat down beside him, elbowed him in the ribs.

Ditzy put a protective hoof over her crossbow. “I don’t like it either, Kibitz, but we’re pretty much at the point where we can’t be too careful,” she explained, a thought that sent chills down everybody’s spines due to the implications.

“Yes, but enchanted arrows?” Kibitz questioned. “Isn’t that a bit overkill for self-defense?”

“Not if the attacker has a magic barrier up, which these arrows can pierce no problem,” Ditzy countered pointedly.

“Yes, well, let’s not dwell on the negatives here,” Twilight again intervened, trying to keep the conversation from veering too far into dark subjects. She looked to Gallus and Spike. “First off, though, have you two had breakfast yet? Because if not, you might as well request some now.”

Since they hadn’t, Gallus and Spike jointly requested for a plate of Prench toast apiece. They didn’t have to wait very long before the kitchen staff brought out the dishes looking almost exactly as tasty as Gallus had envisioned them. Of course, Twilight stopped them from digging in long enough to give them a thorough magical scanning, but she again found no signs of tampering. Gallus honestly thought at this point that whoever their culprits were, they clearly weren’t on the kitchen staff. Or, he supposed, they were just smarter than to try something as obvious as poisoning food.

“So have there been any new developments since last night?” Spike asked as he dug into his breakfast.

“Nothing major,” Raven admitted. “We had more than one team going through the evidence locker wreckage in hopes of reconstructing something, but unfortunately we weren’t able to get anything useful.”

“In short, all that evidence was destroyed before anyone had the chance to go through it,” Kibitz summarized sternly. “As such, we don’t know what it may or may not have contained or if any new leads were hidden within.”

“On the upside, though,” Ditzy then jumped in, presenting what few positives she could, “I was up early this morning so to interrogate Diorite. He’s…being less than cooperative as expected, but using some tricks similar to what Dragon Lord Ember used to get him to incriminate himself, I got him to basically confirm his role in all of this.”

Gallus perked up at that. “…and?” he prompted, pausing mid-bite.

“Unfortunately, it still doesn’t tell us anything that we hadn’t already figured out for ourselves,” Ditzy said. “But it does confirm that we’re definitely on the right track.”

“What about the mastermind of this whole scheme?” Twilight prompted. “The one Diorite is presumably working for? Did you get anything useful from him on that?”

“I’d assume, given the trend, he was unwilling to say anything on that subject,” Kibitz pointedly guessed.

“Yeah, he’s refusing to give up anything about this guy,” Ditzy said. “Though from the context, I’m getting the impression that our mastermind really is just one guy. Still no good ideas on who though, and honestly I’m not sure how much Diorite could’ve told us anyway because he claims he’s never met this mastermind in person.”

Raven harrumphed at that. “He’s smart enough to keep a low profile, it seems.”

“When you’ve been playing this game for as long as he probably has, you’d have to be careful letting your involvement be too known by anyone, ally or otherwise,” Gallus reasoned while using a chunk of Prench toast to mop up some of the syrup on his plate. “I’ve seen crooks back in Griffonstone do the same sort of thing and they’re probably not even half as good as this mastermind seems to be.”

“As inadvertently flattering for said mastermind as that is,” Kibitz remarked aloud, “it’s a valid point. Plausible deniability, after all, is at its most convincing when the one denying it genuinely knows nothing of it. With that in mind, it was probably never going to be as simple as drawing a mere testimony from a cohort anyway.”

“One can still hope though,” Twilight said with a sigh. She glanced back at Ditzy. “Did Diorite reveal anything about any other operatives besides the ones we already know about?”

“Not exactly,” Ditzy replied, “Though from the way he phrased some things, I’m thinking there weren’t that especially many to begin with.”

“So considering that we’ve already offed at least two and caught one…” Gallus summarized.

Ditzy nodded. “…there probably aren’t too many left that’s still unaccounted for, or so I’m choosing to hope currently.” Glancing around at the others, she continued. “It’d fit with what we know anyway. The conspirators couldn’t ever have been that numerous if they’ve avoided detection for this long, and I’ve already speculated they’re attempting damage control because we’ve struck them a few good blows. Honestly, it sounds like they’re in prime position for the finishing blow.”

“Then we’d just need to know where to strike,” Raven concluded.

“Easier said than done, Miss Inkwell,” Kibitz retorted, sounding skeptical. “We may have struck them a few lucky blows, but for every strike we’ve dealt them, they’ve struck back with equally damaging blows. And should they ever strike at the very things they want…” he motioned to Gallus and Spike and left the rest of the sentence unspoken.

“And we obviously know they’re willing to kill anyone in their way so to get what they want,” Twilight added gravely. “As demonstrated with Dream Chaser, Static Lift, and now Streamline.

“And quite probably the civilian piloting the airship that attacked Spark,” Ditzy added, matching Twilight’s tone. “I’ve heard back from one of my leads that a civilian employed as a pilot at the Canterlot airship yards around that timeframe was found murdered in his apartment less than a week after Spark was killed. The authorities never figured out who was responsible or why and the case swiftly went cold, so I can’t exactly confirm he was the same pony but…I do think it likely.”

“Not that it really matters now if they’re dead,” Gallus said with a sigh, mopping up the last of the syrup on his plate with one final bite of Prench toast.

“It matters in the sense that it’s one more crime these guys have probably committed,” Spike argued glumly as he finished up his breakfast too.

“So where does all this leave us, then?” Twilight concluded. “What should be our next move?”

“Determining and then apprehending whoever the mastermind of this scheme is, I would think,” Raven said but motioning to Kibitz, added, “however as already stated, that’s easier said than done.”

“Let’s look at it logically then,” Twilight suggested. “What do we know about this mastermind?”

“We know they’re intelligent enough to stay mostly one step ahead of us,” Gallus offered.

“We also know they’re informed, enough to be aware of our plans and actions almost as we make them,” Spike added.

“That would suggest either they have an informant that’s working somewhere they can learn of these plans, or the mastermind themselves works somewhere they can be part of the loop,” Ditzy reasoned. “Either way, it still means a traitor is operating within this very palace.”

“Though I would hope it’s no one sitting at this table,” Kibitz said with some ominousness.

A moment of exchanging wary glances with each other followed, but afterwards it was silently concluded everyone here still had each other’s trust.

“I’d assume they’ve been involved with this conspiracy from the start,” Raven then added. “Which means, considering it’s been ongoing since at least roughly fifteen years previous, they’ve been at this for a good while. They probably want to bring this matter to a swift conclusion just as much as we do.”

“So they can get on with their lives, I think,” Kibitz added with a thoughtful nod.

“We can also safely assume they don’t like leaving loose ends,” Spike said, “Given how every operative working for them seems to meet an unfortunate end the moment they no longer need them.”

“But perhaps not all of them,” Twilight said, “given we likely have at least one operative working from here in Canterlot to try and cover their tracks, the one that presumably had a role in setting fire to Gene Type’s apartment and destroying our evidence locker, possibly even the one who used the Choker’s Gas to silence Streamline.”

“I can’t rule out there potentially being more either,” Ditzy added somewhat reluctantly. “I have wondered to myself if the griffons who killed Gwen could still be out there, awaiting orders.”

“Perhaps,” Kibitz agreed, steepling his hooves in thought.

“But considering their last known job in this scheme was more than a decade ago, we also can’t rule out those griffons no longer being in the mastermind’s employ,” Twilight said with a sigh. “It’d be nice to have definite confirmation either way though.”

“I did ask Diorite about that in my interrogation of him,” Ditzy began, “but he feigned ignorance. Whether or not he’s telling the truth though remains to be seen.”

“Those griffons would probably still be in Griffonstone anyway,” Raven pointed out, “unless the mastermind found a way to smuggle them into Equestria without anyone noticing.”

“Raven’s got a point,” Gallus agreed. “Those griffon attackers may not matter because for now we’re focused on things happening here, where they probably can’t do anything anyway.”

“And Lord Gestal is already on the lookout for any shady characters that could be potential operatives,” Twilight said. “Assuming his lordship is indeed as trustworthy as he’s been having me believe, then I have to trust he will be in position to stop any troublemaking those hypothetical griffons could cause.”

“It still doesn’t bring us much closer to finding this mastermind though,” Kibitz said, “assuming they are even still here to begin with. For all we know, they have already fled the country.”

“Maybe, but I’d doubt it, Kibitz,” Ditzy reasoned. “They seem too tightly involved and acting too quickly to be coordinating things from abroad. No, I’d bet muffins that they’re still here and somewhere close.”

“I agree with Ditzy,” Twilight said but it came with a renewed sigh, “Though that still leaves us with the prospect of a likely traitor somewhere in our midst.”

“I don’t suppose any of you know who could be a potential suspect then?” Gallus asked, already believing he knew the answer.

“None I could bring any charges on with any degree of confidence,” Ditzy said, “and if we can’t pin any actual charges on them then we can’t detain let alone arrest them, leaving them free to walk and keep going with their plans.”

“And be on the alert that we’re on their tails and act accordingly,” Spike added darkly. He thumped his fork down on the table now that he was finished with it. “What we need is what we’ve needed from the start—more information.”

“Unfortunately, Spike, we have no more to use at the moment,” Raven said sympathetically.

“There’s gotta be something we’re missing though,” Gallus said, rubbing the tip of his beak in thought, “Something sitting right there in front of us.”

“Well, if you’ve got any suggestions, now’s the time to say so,” Ditzy pointed out.

Gallus searched his brain for anything that he knew wouldn’t already be destroyed. “Gruff said Spark left Griffonstone to meet with Princess Celestia and ask for asylum here in Equestria,” he reasoned aloud after a moment.

“He never arrived for that meeting though,” Kibitz pointedly reminded.

“I know,” Gallus said, giving the stallion a brief glare for the unnecessary reminder. “But he still set up a time for that meeting, right? Wouldn’t that mean there’d be some record of that lying around somewhere in like a schedule or something?”

“I see what you’re trying to get at here, Gallus,” Raven said. “But I already thought of that and looked through the royal records for relevant paperwork and found nothing. Either the conspirators already destroyed it or, since the meeting never actually took place, some clerk didn’t see the need to hold onto it and threw it away sometime between then and now.”

“And as I already told you that Celestia has no recollection of it due to her scant involvement, and since this took place before Luna’s return, she sadly cannot assist either,” Twilight added. “Since it’s likely Spark’s meeting was arranged through palace staff and not herself, it’s very possible Celestia never saw any notifications except a note on her schedule the day of, which was no doubt dismissed when Spark never showed. She probably thought he was unexpectedly detained and unable to make it after all—it honestly happens all the time.”

“In short, Gallus, it doesn’t look like we have any records like that after all,” Spike concluded with a frown.

Gallus sighed. “That’s a pity, because I was thinking that, since the conspirators obviously knew Spark was coming, maybe one of the creatures who filed it was in on it. It’d at least give us something to look into.”

“Actually,” Kibitz remarked suddenly, his brow furrowed thoughtfully, “there might still be a copy of this record,” he said. He looked to the others. “For security reasons, the Royal Guard often receives copies of asylum requests in the event any additional investigations or background checks are felt necessary for the asylum seekers. Spark’s request should have applied for that, and if so, then it’s possible the Royal Guard may still have a copy of this paperwork somewhere in their archives.” He made a small shrug. “It’d at least be worth checking.”

Ditzy hummed in approval at this suggestion. “That’s actually not a half-bad idea, Kibitz,” she admitted.

Kibitz smirked slightly. “I do have those from time to time, lieutenant commander.”

Gallus all but threw down the fork he’d been idly toying with. “Well, what are we waiting for then?” he asked as he promptly rose to his feet. “Let’s go see!”





Initially Twilight didn’t want Gallus or Spike accompanying them, asking they leave it to the others to investigate, but since it was partly his idea, Gallus wanted to see it through and Spike wasn’t about to be left out either. Both argued that the matter still involved them so they might as well come with, and anyway, the best way to ensure they stayed safe would be by keeping them in sight. So Twilight relented and as a group they left the dining room down into the basement levels of the royal palace.

However, Gallus later concluded that the real reason Twilight recommended against them coming wasn’t because she feared for their safety but rather because she knew they’d be bored out of their minds digging through the archives. For the archives were pretty much as they sounded—just a large basement-like room filled with rows upon rows of filing cabinets stuffed full of documents dating back decades at least. That they knew a general time period to be looking in helped, but that still only narrowed it down to about three filing cabinets, leaving them a whole heap of files to sit down and sift through trying to find the right one. This, of course, wasn’t especially interesting to witness, with the only real memorable moment being when Raven accidentally gave herself a papercut.

Finally, it was Kibitz who found the relevant file, but the victory was gone again as soon as he opened it and found it empty. “Curious,” he remarked while examining the folder as if the papers it was supposed to contain were somehow hiding. “A copy of that asylum request would have to have existed or else there would be no point even having this folder in the first place.”

“But then where’s the paperwork?” Gallus asked. “Did these culprits already beat us to the punch, again?”

“They must’ve,” Twilight concluded, already up on her hooves and considering the dilemma. “But it must’ve been a rush job if they left traces of it existing, validating there was something to hide.”

“They can’t just take files out of these archives willy-nilly though, the archivists wouldn’t let them without first getting their authorization,” Ditzy said, also on her hooves and starting to turn back for the front desk they checked in with when they’d entered. “That means there’d have to be a paper trail left behind just to get at that file.”

So, taking the folder with them, they went back to the front desk and asked the clerk working there if anyone else had come looking for it.

“Well, let’s see here,” the clerk, a bespectacled short and thin mare of middle-age that Gallus suspected had probably been working this job for a bit too long, remarked as she pulled out her record book of everyone who’d signed in and out anything from the archive. The way she then squinted at it also told him the thick lenses she wore probably weren’t thick enough. “We’ve had a lot of ponies come in here looking for archived information the past few days, so I suppose it could’ve been any one of them. But maybe I can still narrow it down for you. What was that file registry number again?”

“Nine seven eight dash zero dash six seven one dash eight seven seven eight three dash five,” Raven patiently read off of the empty folder’s corresponding label.

“More numbers in a row than you’d find in a math class,” Gallus quipped under his breath, though not quietly enough to avoid Twilight overhearing and jabbing him in the side for it.

The clerk took her time scanning through her large book, mouthing out the numbers to herself as she did so. She had to all but put her snout against the pages in order to easily read the entries, given her clearly lackluster eyesight. Finally, she tapped a particular entry near the bottom of the page. “Ah yes, right here. The paperwork was signed out for personal reference yesterday just past noon. You can see the entry for yourself.” She turned the book around and they all crowded in closer to do so. “As you can see, it was all in order, so we had no real reason to question them over it.”

But everyone else’s attention was focused on the signature of the pony signing out the paperwork. Kibitz remained stone-faced as usual, but Spike, Twilight, Raven, and Ditzy’s faces all turned unhappy as they recognized the name the fancy signature listed.

Gallus also recognized the name, but his reaction to it was more one of shock. “…no way.”





“I promise you, princess!” Prince Blueblood doggedly insisted to them while Ditzy and a party of other guards searched his office at the royal palace. “I know nothing about these documents you speak of!”

“And I’d like to believe that, Blueblood, I really would,” Twilight said again, sounding genuinely apologetic. She held up a copy she had gotten of the archive’s records. “But that is very clearly your signature saying you signed them out, is it not?”

Blueblood glanced at the document and as he did so Gallus, standing nearby and watching the confrontation take place, noticed the noble stallion looking increasingly alarmed. “Well…yes, it does appear to be my signature, but as I already tried to explain, it simply cannot have been me who put it there! I haven’t even been in the archives in weeks, let alone yesterday! I haven’t even sent any of my servants down on my behalf in at least as long!”

“Can anyone verify that, though?” Kibitz asked pointedly from beside the princess.

Blueblood opened and closed his jaw for a few moments, then tellingly fell silent and averted his gaze.

“Then you understand why we need to take this precaution,” Twilight finalized, still apologetic. “With how crafty this conspiracy has been at countering us and actual lives potentially at stake…”

“Yes, yes, I know, I understand that,” Blueblood relented. “And I cannot fault you for ensuring the safety of your subjects, princess, but I fear you’re wasting your time investigating me of all ponies! What would I even stand to gain from all this?”

“Well, the apparent motive of the whole plot is the elimination of hybrid creatures,” Raven replied somewhat coldly.

Blueblood flung a hoof at Gallus. “But I barely know that creature and scarcely ever interacted with Advisor Spike before now.”

“Which doesn’t exactly help your argument, you realize,” Kibitz coolly pointed out. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem the least bit apologetic and acted like it was a foregone conclusion that Blueblood was their guy. “By not knowing your targets, you have no emotional attachment standing in your way of harming them.”

“That does not mean I still wish them harm!” Blueblood declared, getting increasingly flustered. “I may be many things, Advisor Kibitz, but a murderer is not one of them, I promise you that! Just as I promise you that I’ve had no involvement of any of this! How could I?”

“Well, you have been here locked in the palace with the rest of us since we got here,” Spike remarked suddenly from Gallus’s side, the dragon no doubt remembering Raven commenting about it the previous day.

“And the creature behind this clearly has been getting inside knowledge of our attempts to fight them all throughout, something that would be much easier if they were here in the palace as you’ve been,” Raven pointed out.

“I am far from the only one who had the misfortune of being here when the lockdown took effect though,” Blueblood reasoned. He pointed his hoof at a random guard sorting through things in the office’s filing cabinet. “By that same logic, your culprit could just as easily be that pony right there!”

“Hey!” the guard complained, frowning at the accusation.

“And that’s why we’re searching your office, Blueblood, and will be searching your place of residence too,” Twilight insisted, looping them back to her original point. “We need to be absolutely sure of this.”

Blueblood threw his hooves into the air. “Well, search as much as you like then!” he declared in frustration. “You will not find your missing documents here!”

His timing for saying that couldn’t have been worse. “Princess Twilight,” Ditzy suddenly announced, calling from over where she stood by the office’s fireplace. Her tone was dark and all business.

Giving Blueblood a disconcerting glance, Twilight moved to the fireplace, looking at a spot within that Ditzy pointed at. Some brief words were softly exchanged before Twilight, using her magic, pulled out a piece of something that had been burned within. When she turned and started back towards them, Ditzy following, the alicorn’s face had darkened notably. She silently held up the corner of blackened and burned paper that hadn’t been consumed completely, the seal of the Royal Guard and the first quarter of a file registry number still just barely visible upon it. Kibitz at that point also held up the empty folder from the archives so they could see its label, revealing its file registry number perfectly matching that which survived on the burnt paper.

Blueblood’s face visibly paled at the sight of the dooming evidence. “Princess, you have to believe me,” he insisted urgently as Ditzy and a pair of the Royal Guards started to surround him. “I have no idea how that document got here, but it most certainly was not by my hoof.”

“I can’t take that risk, Blueblood, I’m sorry,” Twilight said before nodding at Ditzy to proceed. “So for your own sake, I ask that you cooperate.”

“No, no,” Blueblood whimpered as he was quietly arrested and led out of the office. “I am innocent! I swear it! I am innocent!”

And yet as Gallus watched the unicorn be taken away, he remained uncertain on whether or not he believed his claims.
> Mastermind
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Ditzy went about interrogating Blueblood’s office staff, Twilight privately discussed their next move with Kibitz and Raven. Gallus and Spike weren’t included in this conversation and were left waiting nearby with their escort guards, a notable cloud of moodiness lingering as they sat in mostly uncomfortable silence. Eventually Kibitz and Raven departed and Twilight rejoined Gallus and Spike, asking if they were interested in an early lunch or to go back to their room, of which the latter was selected—neither of them were feeling especially hungry in this atmosphere. They were just starting to leave when Ditzy caught up with them.

Twilight immediately turned her attention to the Night Guard. “That didn’t take you as long as I’d thought—did you learn anything?” she asked hopefully as they walked.

“Nothing especially useful, no,” Ditzy admitted with a sigh. “But the office staff confirmed that Blueblood did indeed leave the office without giving a reason why around noon yesterday, when the destroyed documents were signed out, and has been consistently doing so for about a week before that. He’s been shirking giving any sort of explanation since, suggesting he’s hiding something.”

“That would seem to incriminate him all right,” Twilight hummed without feeling.

“Then why is all of this leaving me with a sick feeling in my stomach?” Gallus asked suddenly, unable to keep his peace any longer.

“Yeah, something about all of this feels…wrong,” Spike swiftly agreed, a concerned expression forming on his face.

Ditzy glanced at Twilight and noticed she seemed uneasy about it too. “So I’m not the only one then,” she stated, confirming they were all in agreement.

“But the archive clerk’s description of who’d signed out the documents did fit Blueblood,” Twilight pointed out weakly.

But Gallus immediately scoffed. “I don’t know if you noticed, princess, but that clerk’s eyesight was bad, even with her glasses,” he argued. “And it was a pretty generic description anyway. I’m thinking all she saw was a blurry shape that happened to resemble Blueblood, a pony with a coat and mane of light colors like his.”

“A description that could match any number of different ponies in the palace,” Spike said and motioned to Ditzy, “Even Ditzy, for that matter. Plus, her memory could’ve always been faulty.”

“Or just outright lying,” Gallus added. “How do we know she isn’t in on the conspiracy somehow?”

“All valid points,” Ditzy agreed. “We shouldn’t take the clerk’s testimony at face value, not when our current evidence is still circumstantial at best.” She looked to Twilight again. “I still need to interrogate Blueblood properly but…you know we can’t definitively prove he’s involved right now.”

“We can’t exactly disprove it either though,” Twilight countered with a heavy sigh. “And the fact the documents we could’ve used to prove one way or the other were still destroyed in his office, documents we have record of being signed out under his name during a time where his whereabouts cannot be confirmed, is still very suspect.” She glanced to Ditzy solemnly as they rounded a corner. “Ditzy, you might as well know that Kibitz has asked to be the first to question Blueblood, so to make his legal situation clear to him.”

Ditzy frowned. “Sounds like he’s already decided this is going to the courts,” she concluded.

Twilight nodded, rubbing her temple with one hoof. “I have Raven speaking with the palace’s legal experts about what our options are, but… I can’t exactly blame him. If Blueblood is the pony we’re looking for, then potentially that means we can end this right now.”

“And if he’s not, and we’re just wasting our time with Blueblood?” Spike questioned.

Twilight declined to answer, the implications obvious enough.

Gallus let out a frustrated growl. “If it’s not one thing it’s always another, isn’t it?” he muttered darkly.

A moment of silence fell as they all continued mulling it over. Eventually though their journey was interrupted by a growing commotion taking place in an adjoining corridor. Moving to investigate revealed a pair of guards attempting to keep another very anxious creature from proceeding. Ditzy immediately reached for the crossbow she’d been carrying all day, but she didn’t bring it to bear on the pale purple colored hippogriff trying to push her way forward.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but my orders are clear—I currently cannot let you meet with the princess without permission!” one of the guards grunted as they tried to bar the taller creature’s path.

“But I need to speak with Princess Twilight Sparkle right away!” the hippogriff desperately pleaded, not letting up in her attempts to squeeze past them. “It’s extremely urgent!”

“Ambassador Aquila!” Twilight declared in surprise, interrupting the squabble. “What brings you here?”

“Princess Twilight!” the hippogriff swiftly called upon getting the alicorn’s attention. She propped herself up higher by putting one arm on a guard while waving her other above her head. “I need to speak with you right away! It’s about Blueblood!”

The others exchanged surprised glances—clearly, word was traveling fast. “Go ahead and let her through, gentlecolts,” Twilight finally instructed.

The guards glanced at her, silently asking if she was sure, before relenting and allowing Aquila to rush forward. Gallus took in the pale purple hippogriff now that she wasn’t fighting the guards, deciding she somewhat resembled a taller, posher, and more mature Silverstream. “So who’s this?” he asked before she could launch into whatever she’d come to say.

“Gallus, Spike, this is Ambassador Aquila, representing Mount Aris,” Twilight introduced, motioning to the hippogriff. “Aquila, this is Gallus and my assistant advisor in training, Spike.”

Aquila barely acknowledged them in her haste. “Yes, hi, nice to meet you,” she mumbled distractedly before turning her whole attention on Twilight. “Princess, you can’t arrest Blueblood! He’s innocent, I’m sure of it!”

“So Blueblood has already claimed himself,” Twilight patiently explained. “We’ll be interrogating him shortly for more information, but I’m afraid we do have evidence which seems to implicate him.”

“Then he’s being framed!” Aquila declared instantly, resolute in her defense of Blueblood. Gallus wondered why she cared so much. “You know Blueblood as well as I do, he wouldn’t do something like this!”

“I should remind the ambassador then,” Ditzy interjected here, “that not only is it not her position to determine that, I know for a fact one shouldn’t let Blueblood’s foppishness fool you—he’s still a trained and skilled bureaucrat perfectly capable of playing factors to his advantage, even if it means misleading others to do it.”

“Yes, but for murder?” Aquila argued. Without warning she suddenly hooked one leg around Gallus’s neck and all but dragged him before Twilight. “Do you really think he could harm a feather on this kid’s head?”

“Aquila, I understand you think highly of Blueblood,” Twilight said, maintaining her patience while magically extracting Gallus from the ambassador’s grasp, to his thankful relief—the gal had surprisingly good grip. “You two have gotten along well since your appointment as ambassador. But unless you have actual evidence that disproves or counters ours, then sadly approving words alone won’t be enough to exonerate him, no matter how much we wish it would.”

Aquila wasn’t about to give up though. “Then what is your evidence?” she demanded. “What makes you think he could even be part of this?”

Twilight exchanged a glance with Ditzy. Ditzy shrugged, deferring the call to Twilight. Apparently taking that to mean she didn’t see any immediate issue telling her, the princess continued. “A folder of pertinent documents was signed out under his name and their destroyed remains were found in his office fireplace. We also haven’t been able to determine his whereabouts at the time this would’ve taken place.”

Aquila pulled back in shock. “What?” she exclaimed. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday, at around noon.”

“Around noon?” Aquila’s sense of urgency returned to full strength. “But it really couldn’t have been Blueblood then, because I know where he was at noon yesterday!”

“Really?” Ditzy asked, intrigued while stepping in. She adopted a somewhat interrogative stance towards the hippogriff. “You can provide an alibi for him?”

“Yes!” Aquila said, nodding empathically. “He was with me at the time!”

“Okay, so what were you two doing at that time?”

It was then that Aquila’s bravado abruptly deflated and she turned sheepish. “Do…you really need to know the details?” she asked hesitantly. “Isn’t it good enough to know he was with me?”

“Unfortunately no, Aquila,” Twilight replied apologetically. “Saying he was with you without giving any details only makes it look like you’re grasping for straws. So if you really want to help Blueblood, we need you to give all the details you can.”

Aquila fiddled with her talons awkwardly for a long moment, conflicted. At one point she glanced over at Spike and Gallus watching this all play out. Gallus raised an eyebrow at her in response, starting to get a sneaking suspicion as to what it was she didn’t want to say. Finally, Aquila motioned for Twilight to lean closer and, in a hushed whisper, proceeded to elaborate into the princess’s ear while Ditzy also listened in. She only got maybe a sentence or two in before Twilight’s eyes shot wide open.

“WHOAkay, I think I get the idea, thank you!” Twilight interrupted suddenly as she jerked away from the now blushing hippogriff.

She then shot a side-glance in Gallus’s direction upon hearing his stifled laughter, but he didn’t much care what Twilight thought about his reaction. “I think I know why Blueblood also didn’t want to say where he was,” he murmured to Spike, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear. Clearly, saying that the ambassador and Blueblood had been getting along lately was an understatement.

“But that settles it, right?” Aquila meanwhile said, forcing down her embarrassment so to keep pressing the matter. “Blueblood must be innocent and you can release him now, right?”

Ditzy, however, bit her lip. “Unfortunately, ambassador, while it does serve as a good argument in his defense, just because you two were at the time engaged in…romantic activities…”

“Oh ho ho!” Gallus blurted out, probably unhelpfully, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Ditzy ignored him. “…it still doesn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t involved.”

“For example, he still could have had a servant sign out the documents on his behalf,” Twilight offered. “And I know the nobility have servants trained and able to sign for things in their employer’s signature precisely for things such as this.”

Aquila wilted a little. “…he does have his servants do that sometimes…” she relented dejectedly, unable to counter that point as easily.

Gallus frowned skeptically. “Yeah, but given everything we know about this conspiracy, I kinda doubt a lowly servant would be entrusted with so sensitive a task,” he reasoned.

“…unless the servant’s the one who’s trying to frame Blueblood!” Aquila swiftly added.

“With respect, ambassador, that’s mere speculation on your part, not proof of anything,” Ditzy reminded apologetically.

“In any case, I’m having ponies search Blueblood’s mansion as well as interrogate his personal staff as we speak, in hopes of finding more clues confirming one way or the other,” Twilight explained.

“There must be!” Aquila persisted desperately. “Blueblood can’t be guilty, he just can’t!”

Twilight sighed wearily. “If it helps, Aquila, I’d like to believe you,” she admitted. “But I can’t risk letting him go free while there’s still any chance we’re all wrong about him. I’ve been bit in the tail making assumptions about this already and I don’t intend to do so again.” Seeing how crestfallen that made Aquila though, she went on, “Though I suppose him being in an apparent relationship with you, a non-pony, would go against this whole anti-hybrid conspiracy.”

“For that matter,” Spike said, having been thinking everything through while the others talked, “wouldn’t Blueblood signing out the documents in his own name seem kinda…foolish?”

“Spike has a point,” Ditzy agreed. “Considering how competently this conspiracy has been ran, with every precaution taken at every turn, to slip up on something so obvious and basic seems a bit too convenient.” She shrugged. “I mean it can happen—the Night Guard has nabbed baddies for making similar slip-ups before, but still…”

“Come to think of it, that this conspiracy’s been ongoing for over a decade is probably notable too,” Gallus added in, rubbing his beak. Seeing the others weren’t following, he motioned to Twilight. “Just how old is Blueblood anyway? Not much older than you, right?”

“I believe he’s only about a year or two older than me, yes,” Twilight confirmed. “Why?”

“Well, think about how young he’d have to be when this all first began,” Gallus pointed out, “Too young to possibly be involved, right?”

“That is true,” Twilight admitted, “he would’ve been a mere foal at the time, possibly having only just gotten his cutie mark.”

“That is young,” Aquila agreed, her eyes going wide. Still unwilling to give up though, she quickly jumped on the implications. “But then isn’t that just more proof that he can’t be involved?”

“Circumstantially, perhaps,” Twilight relented, though without confidence.

“Unless the role was passed onto him by a predecessor,” Ditzy said. “Like what happened between Rhyolite and his son, Diorite. But I can’t think of any possible candidates that’d want to choose Blueblood over others…”

“That’s all speculation anyway!” Aquila said in a dismissing tone. “You can’t prove Blueblood’s involved because he isn’t!”

“Except for what we already have implicating Blueblood,” Twilight reminded before sighing. “But even that we’re clearly having second thoughts on.”

It was about then that Raven Inkwell suddenly returned, joining the group. “Princess, I have that report you asked for,” the unicorn began only to stop upon seeing Aquila. “Oh! Ambassador! What brings you here?”

“I’m exonerating Blueblood’s good name!” Aquila declared resolutely, stomping her hoof.

Raven blinked at her intensity. “Um…”

“She and Blueblood are a thing,” Gallus explained in a teasing tone, at which Aquila blushed again.

“…oh,” Raven concluded, uncertain, “well…I wish you the best of luck with that? But um, that said…you may not want to be here for this then.” Without waiting for a response though, she turned to Twilight. “Princess, after consulting with the legal department, they support what we’ve already planned. Kibitz is awaiting your final okay to proceed with questioning him.”

“And the longer I put off deciding, the longer we risk this conspiracy pushing onward,” Twilight added with a sigh. She took a deep breath. “Raven, tell Kibitz he can start preparing to question Blueblood as requested. Have him make whatever safety precautions he thinks are necessary, I just insist that I be present to observe before he begins, and remind him that Ditzy will also interrogate him as soon as he’s done.”

Raven nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

“What?” Aquila squealed, disliking this news as predicted. “But he’s innocent, I keep telling you all that!”

“Aquila, if Blueblood does prove innocent, I promise you, I’ll find a way to make it up to you both,” Twilight assured the dejected hippogriff. “But you’re welcome to accompany me so to give Blueblood moral support if you’d like.” She then turned to Ditzy. “Ditzy, before you join us in the security wing, please finish escorting Gallus and Spike back to their room.” Glancing over at them, she added, “I still want you two staying there and under constant guard until I’m certain the danger has passed, understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ditzy said with a salute, with Gallus and Spike mumbling their agreement.

“Good,” Twilight said, glancing over the group once more. “Look, I know the situation doesn’t feel great. But just hang in there and keep hoping we’re almost at the end of it.”

And with that last word of comfort, they all headed off to their separate destinations.





“I still don’t really like this,” Spike mumbled as they resumed being escorted through the palace halls.

“If it helps, I don’t really like it either,” Ditzy admitted as she led the way, their other escorts following behind them, “But it’s not our call to make, and the princess is definitely right about one thing—we can’t exactly take the risk.” She glanced knowingly back at her charges. “You two know better than anyone just what these creatures are capable of.”

“Yeah, but if Blueblood’s not our guy, then we’re still wasting time,” Gallus reminded.

“We ended up wasting time getting all that evidence from Griffonstone and the Dragon Lands too,” Ditzy contrasted. She sighed. “Look, it’s out of our hooves either way, so now we just need to trust the system.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Gallus muttered darkly. Still, he supposed he could trust Equestria’s legal system a lot better than the Griffon Kingdom’s, which was infamously very broken and corrupt—part of the reason the kingdom was in the sorry state it was. Nevertheless, he huffed angrily. “Gah, it all still comes down to the same thing—we need more information.”

“If only those documents hadn’t gotten destroyed,” Spike likewise bemoaned. “It could’ve at least told us who scheduled Spark’s appointment and then we could’ve asked if they knew anything.”

“Assuming they’re still alive,” Ditzy said as they turned a corner. “I don’t want to be the pessimist here, but…there has been a pretty consistent track record on that.”

“Tell me about it,” Gallus groaned, reviewing in his head all the creatures that’d died as well as Gruff still in his coma—he wondered what the old coot would think about the Blueblood problem. “Is there any other way we could find out what was on those documents? Whatever it was, it must’ve been important enough to destroy before anyone could see them.”

“Not really,” Ditzy said with a sad shake of her head. “The copies in the archives were really the only other place it could be.”

They went quiet for a moment, during which Gallus noticed Spike lapsing into deep thought. “Hey Ditzy?” the dragon asked. “Think I can go back to the archives? I want to keep digging around for anything else that could help.”

Ditzy glanced back at him. “You really think you’d find something when no one else has?” she asked him.

Spike shrugged. “Might as well still try,” he pointed out. “And anyway, I’ve done enough royal advisor work to know my way around the archives. I’ve got a few ideas for some places I could still check.”

Ditzy considered it for a moment then turned around, signaling for the group to halt. “All right, we can go down to the archives for a bit.”

“Aw, do we all have to?” Gallus groaned without thinking, not eager to endure dull file sorting a second time that day. But realizing it probably seemed insensitive, he added, “No offense to Spike—if it can help then it can help—but since that’s not really something I can help with much, I’d just be bored out of my mind.”

Spike was unbothered though. “I don’t think we all need to go,” he assured. “I can just go myself.”

“You are not going down there alone,” Ditzy however ruled out. She pointed at the two escorts closest to Spike. “Go with him and make sure absolutely nothing happens to him,” she ordered. “The rest of us will finish escorting Gallus to his room then before I double back for Blueblood’s interrogation I’ll have additional guards come and join you in the archives.” She gave the little dragon a grin. “Just in case.”

Spike returned it before giving Gallus a pat. “Hopefully I won’t be too long,” he said to the griffon. “You sure you don’t want to come with? There’s probably some way to keep it entertaining…”

“Nah, I’d just get in your way anyway,” Gallus assured, waving him on. He trusted Spike knew what he was doing. “But for the record, I do hope you actually find something.” He then became a little more serious. “Stay safe though.”

“You too,” Spike replied before giving him a little wave and leaving with the guards for the archives.

Gallus watched him go before joining Ditzy and the remaining two escorts continuing through the corridors. “Think he’ll find anything?” he asked the pegasus quietly.

“I think he’s right about checking anyway,” Ditzy replied. “Besides, if it helps give him peace of mind then I’m not going to tell him no.”

Gallus fell quiet after that, mulling that he could use some peace of mind too and pondering how exactly to get some. He’d settled on finding something to preoccupy his mind when they started to arrive at their destination. A unicorn Night Guard had taken up the post beside the double doors in their absence, despite the room currently being unoccupied, and made a friendly salute upon seeing them coming. Ditzy returned it as she started to close the gap, but then she, without warning, completely stopped dead in her tracks. Gallus didn’t notice in time to keep from bumping into her, and in so doing noticed she’d gone as tense as a rock.

“…something wrong?” he asked as he watched Ditzy’s uncovered eye narrow in the direction of his room, as if peering through its walls.

She didn’t answer though and turned her attention back to the unicorn guard. “Private, has anyone entered this room since this morning?” she asked in a calm but weirdly pointed tone. It made her phrasing sound forced.

It confused the private at any rate. “No ma’am,” he assured. “No one has been inside since it was vacated. I was assigned here so to ensure that, ma’am.”

Ditzy nonetheless raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Are you sure?”

The private, growing confused, glanced between her and the room’s door, silently asking himself if he’d somehow missed something. “…positive, ma’am,” he again confirmed all the same. “No one has been in or out since then. It hasn’t even been opened.”

“Has it now?” Ditzy asked, not sounding convinced.

She glanced back at Gallus and the remaining two escorts, noting how all three of them were now alert. Despite that though, she gently motioned for them to remain quiet before pulling aside the unicorn guard and discussing something with him in a hushed voice. They were apparently instructions, because a moment later the guard lit his horn and proceeded to wave its magic back and forth over the room’s entrance. Gallus realized they were scanning the room’s interior, making him wonder all the more what was up.

Whatever it was, the guard apparently didn’t expect it because his eyes widened upon finishing. Ditzy silenced him before he could speak though and discreetly spoke further with him. Just as Gallus’s curiosity had nearly gnawed its way through his mind though, they stopped and, looking somewhat smug, Ditzy waved for him and the other two guards to join them.

“Is something up?” Gallus asked, also keeping his voice low.

“Something is indeed up,” Ditzy replied, but her sly grin suggested she had a plan, “Which is why we need the help of all three of you.”

Gallus felt his brow furrow. “Okay…but help with what?”

“We’re going to set a little trap.”





The unicorn guard was telling the truth—no one really had been through the room’s doors since that morning, but as Ditzy went on to point out, that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways in and out of the room. Not that the room, normally the princess’s private bedchambers, didn’t have plenty of measures securing even these, but that was what made the situation all the more interesting. And also made Gallus all the more nervous about was likely coming next.

Nonetheless, only one of them actually entered the room while the rest remained outside. No lights were turned on, instead leaving the room somewhat dim. Once inside, there were no diversions or delays, just a walk straight to the bed, climbing in, and pulling covers all the way up and over the head as if taking a nap. Gallus could only wait tensely from there, his heart thumping against his ribs hard enough that it felt like it was trying to put a window in his chest using a sledgehammer.

There was a long stretch of silence, made eerie due to the high tension. But finally there was new movement. Gallus hadn’t really thought about it before, but the room did have a fireplace. It’d gone unused this whole time, but that was what made the sudden sound of trickling soot from it alarming. This trickling began faintly then increased into a steady stream. Before long, a set of hooves was heard quietly lowering themselves onto the hearth, moving so quietly and cautiously that, if Gallus hadn’t known to listen for it, he probably would’ve missed it.

Eventually a shadowy and soot-covered figure emerged from the fireplace and, glancing around to make sure no one else was in the room—and for the moment there wasn’t—they silently closed the gap between the fireplace and the bed. Before long they were looming ominously over the lump hidden under the covers, withdrawing a weapon. Pausing just a moment longer while Gallus waited anxiously, the figure suddenly grabbed the covers and whipped them back expecting to reveal the young griffon underneath.

Instead, they found Ditzy waiting and ready for them.

“Pro tip,” Ditzy sassed as she pointed her crossbow at the shocked would-be assassin, “when hiding someplace where you can’t physically see your target, do make sure it’s actually them before you act.”

Before the attacker could even finish reacting, Gallus looked up from the keyhole he’d been watching all this through and signaled the other three guards who threw open the room’s double doors. They quickly surrounded the attacker, bringing their weapons upon them. The attacker immediately backed away from Ditzy at the same time, dropping their weapon and putting their forehooves into the air. Gallus then got his first good look at them and was surprised to see she was a fairly ordinary looking mare.

Amazed, he looked to Ditzy. “How did you know she was even in here?” he asked.

Ditzy grinned. “While you and Spike were elsewhere yesterday, I hid a few extra security triggers of my own custom design in here,” she tapped her magicked eyepatch, “all of which rigged to alert me specifically if any of them are tripped.”

Gallus raised his eyebrows at her. “You never said anything about that.”

“Of course not,” Ditzy replied. “We knew we had a security leak, so I figured the less who knew about it, the better.” She gave the intruder a smug look. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The intruder just gave a sour look back in return, so Ditzy turned her attention to other affairs. Upon double-checking that the guards had the mare securely surrounded, she set aside her crossbow and picked up the intended murder weapon by its handle, carefully not touching any other part of it.

“Appears to be an ordinary dart,” she noted aloud before holding it up before the assassin. “I assume the point is poisoned or else this isn’t doing terribly much to anyone.”

The assassin defiantly didn’t reply, but she did reflexively lean away from the dart’s tip when Ditzy brought it closer to her face.

“What about her bags?” A guard asked, for the mare had a sleeker version of saddlebags strapped about her barrel, colored black so to match the rest of her functional outfit.

“Yes, the bags,” Ditzy agreed as she made a show of refocusing her attention on them. Gallus could tell she was enjoying this. “They look like a chimney sweep’s bags, which is what I’m guessing you’re disguised as so to get onto the premises without raising the alarm…although how you did so while a lockdown is in effect is another mystery.” Ditzy mulled upon that for a second before nodding at the bags. “Anyway, I’m guessing what you’re carrying is not the usual array of chimney sweep tools.”

She signaled to a nearby guard who removed the bags from the still-silent assassin and proceeded to open them. “She came armed, ma’am,” he reported, holding open the bag for her to see.

Ditzy gave the inside a cursory glance. “Incendiary charges and Choker’s Gas grenades,” she noted aloud before looking knowingly at the assassin. “You wouldn’t also happen to have had a hoof in burning down the apartment of one Gene Type or the lethal gassing of one Streamline, would you?”

“She’s at least the one who destroyed the evidence locker,” Gallus observed with a flare of vindictive justice, eyeing some scabbed gashes on the mare’s cheek leftover from a set of talons scoring a lucky hit. He gave the assassin a nasty look. “Probably also got into a fight with a crotchety old coot, right?”

The assassin persistently kept silent.

Ditzy harrumphed in amusement. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, taking in the mare’s face. “We’ve at least got her for the assassination of Southern Equestria’s Deputy Minister Atem.” When the mare expressed visible surprise at this, Ditzy nodded smugly. “Yeah, didn’t think I’d recognize your face since the wanted posters are over two years out of date now, did you? But I did. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t.”

The assassin stared at Ditzy for a moment, her composure visibly changing now that she knew she was sunk either way. “I want a deal,” she finally announced, speaking for the first time.

“Oh ho, do you now?” Ditzy chortled, amused by the assassin’s audacity. “That’s cute, seeing you’re hardly in a position to bargain. You’re going to have to give me way more so to get that anyway. But we can talk about it more once you’re safely in an interrogation room.”

“Besides, we’ve already got the guy that’s supposed to be behind all of this,” one of the guards remarked. “Last I heard, they’ve arrested Prince Blueblood and…”  

“Blueblood?!” The assassin suddenly blurted out. She twisted around to look at the guard, incredulous. “What in the world made you think that idiot is in any way—” She then cut herself short upon realizing what she was saying.

A moment of stunned silence fell. “No, no,” Ditzy then said as she leaned closer, intrigued, “By all means, do continue.”

The assassin, however, stayed silent, though no longer as self-confident as she once was.

Nonetheless, the implications she had let slip made Gallus’s gizzard tie itself into knots. “Ditzy, if she’s telling the truth and Blueblood really is innocent…” he breathed urgently to the pegasus.

“I know,” Ditzy acknowledged, nodding at the guards to start arresting their prisoner. “We’ll get to that as soon as this gal’s where she can’t do more harm. Blueblood isn’t exactly going anywhere after all.”

But Gallus’s heart was thumping in his chest again as he started to pace blindly. “What did they hope to gain from framing Blueblood anyway?” he asked himself aloud. “They must’ve known we’d figure it out eventually and then we’d just continue tracking them down. The only way around that would be to somehow stop us from getting the chance, and to do that, you’d not only need to stop Blueblood from testifying entirely, you’d also need somepony at precisely the right spot and the right time to…”

Then, all at once, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place in Gallus’s mind.

A chill washed over him from head to tail tip. “…Ditzy, we need to stop them from interrogating Blueblood,” he stated, realizing how short the time remaining must be, “Now.”

“And we will!” Ditzy promised, her attention still on securing the assassin. “Just give me a second to…”

“There isn’t time!” Gallus stressed, growing more and more alarmed. He doubted he even had time to explain. “Look, I’ll go down and do it if you really can’t—”

“You will do no such thing!” Ditzy objected, shooting him a look. “You will wait until one of us is free to go with you, do you hear me?”

Gallus stared at her for a second then glanced at the bed beside him. “Then you shouldn’t have set down your crossbow.”

“…what? What are you—GALLUS!”

But Gallus had already snatched the crossbow she’d left on the bed and started racing out the door. He heard Ditzy shout after him, then at least one of the guards give chase. Knowing there wasn’t time for delays, he ran for the closest window trying to shake his pursuer. He had just enough time to flick open the latch and bodily slam it open before feeling the pursuing guard try to grab him by the tail. Miraculously they failed to secure a good grip and Gallus tumbled unhindered for a brief second out the tower window before spreading his wings and taking flight, swooping through the air outside the palace for the first time since he’d arrived.

He had no time to relish it though and immediately banked around for a floor closer to the palace’s security wing. There his luck held as a maid had opened a window so to clean and used this opportunity to shoot back inside by flying over the startled mare’s head. Bursting out into a new corridor, he started again in the direction he hoped Blueblood would be. Admittedly, he didn’t really know the palace’s layout that well, making his only guide the vague signs posted at key intersections. But going off of those, he did seem to be heading in the right direction.

Fate really must’ve been feeling extra generous then, because while following a sign around a corner at a full gallop, he saw another pony already in the corridor turn in surprise upon seeing him. She wasn’t wearing a guard’s armor, but she did wear what appeared to be a uniform so Gallus gambled that she worked here. “Where’s Princess Twilight?” he asked as he approached, “It’s an emergency!”

The mare quickly pointed with one hoof before moving out of Gallus’s way as he rushed past without slowing, following her directions to the door in question further down the hall. Slamming it open revealed a sterile office area divided off from a routine interrogation room by a white-washed brick wall. Inside were Twilight, Raven, Blueblood, Aquila, and Kibitz along with a pair of guards. Kibitz was just starting to escort the cuffed Blueblood into the interrogation room when Gallus entered and everyone turned their heads in his direction.

“Hold it!” Gallus panted as he whipped up the crossbow he’d stolen, pointing it at them, “Stop everything!”

The reaction was immediate. Aquila yelped and lunged for Blueblood standing in the interrogation room’s doorway, pushing aside the shocked Kibitz as she wrapped her body protectively around the prince. Raven jumped back a full pace while Twilight hurriedly threw up a magic barrier big enough to enclose herself and Raven. Kibitz, left standing alone to one side of the room, also cast his own a barrier, but Gallus noticed he was already decked out in additional body armor too. Despite being the most protected though, he initially seemed the most alarmed of the group. Finally the guards, left outside the two barriers, raised their weapons at the armed griffon but then just stood there uncertain what else to do, hoping for further orders.

A tense moment passed as the impromptu standoff began and everything came to an immediate halt. Nobody moved. Gallus used it to try and catch his breath, not daring to let his aim waver.

“Please don’t shoot!” Blueblood pathetically begged as he cowered in Aquila’s protective hold. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Gallus, what are you doing?” Twilight asked in alarm. “Where’s Spike?”

“Safe,” Gallus promised, though he didn’t want to say exactly where just in case this didn’t go as expected. “But Blueblood certainly isn’t.”

“Then explain,” Twilight demanded, not wanting to play games. “What’s going on?”

So Gallus obliged. “We got it wrong, princess. If I hadn’t stopped you, I legitimately think Blueblood wouldn’t have walked out of here alive.”

He saw Blueblood turn a shade paler, which was rather impressive considering his already white coat.

Kibitz meanwhile immediately scoffed. “Whatever makes you think that? If anything, we’re the ones endangered by him and his criminal acts!” Without waiting for a response, he looked to Twilight. “Princess, with respect, he’s clearly not thinking straight!”

“Gallus, I promise that everything is under control,” Twilight assured, still trying to defuse the situation. “We’re on the right track to sorting this out.”

“That’s not what the assassin in my room said,” Gallus replied pointedly.

Twilight once again reeled back in alarm. “What assassin?”

“This assassin, your highness,” Heads twisted around to see a panting Ditzy arrive through an adjoining door on the office’s right side, dragging in the cuffed mare in question and closely followed by the two guards still with Ditzy—Gallus assumed the third was still searching for him on a different floor while the others rushed here with Ditzy. “Posing as a chimney sweep, she snuck into Gallus and Spike’s room through the chimney with the clear intent of killing them. Fortunately, we managed to stay one trot ahead of her.” Ditzy then looked past the others and at Gallus. “You took my crossbow.”

Gallus shrugged, keeping it casual. “Impressed?”

He’d meant it as a quip, but Ditzy had to nod. “Actually, yeah, little bit.”

“Ditzy,” Twilight hissed in disapproval.

“And so you brought this assassin here?” Kibitz demanded, incredulous but also very anxious. “Shouldn’t you be investigating how she got inside despite the current lockdown?”

“Well, obviously, someone high up gave her permission, bypassing not just the lockdown but also the normal security too,” Gallus offered. “And I’m pretty sure that, given circumstances, the only creatures who could’ve done that are here in this room.” He then nodded his head at the assassin. “You know who it is too, don’t you?”

The assassin glared back defiantly, though Gallus couldn’t help but notice an aura of uneasiness lying under it. “If you expect me to tell you, I do not dare,” she replied, deadly serious about it. “Punishments are swift for those who blab.” However, for a split second, Gallus saw her eyes dart worryingly to a specific pony in the group.

Gallus smirked to himself. I thought so.

And he was sure Ditzy noticed too, because she started to whisper urgently into the ear of the unicorn guard at her side.

“Princess, this is going nowhere,” Kibitz interjected urgently. “We need to get back to interrogating Blueblood and end this mess!”

“No!” Gallus interrupted, his voice firm. “Blueblood is not the mastermind, he never was.”

Blueblood breathed a sigh of relief while Aquila let out a victorious caw. “Thank you!” she said. “I told you he’s being framed!”

“But that’s why I’m confident this was also a trap,” Gallus pressed on. “Framing Blueblood for everything doesn’t work if he testifies. So naturally our culprit needs that to never happen.”

“By silencing Blueblood,” Twilight finished ominously.

“That way, no one would ever be definitively sure Blueblood was the mastermind or not,” Gallus said with a nod. “And with the plan for that gal to bump off me and Spike at about the same time,” he nodded at the captured assassin, “that’d tie off all the loose ends and cause the trail to go cold.”

“But then…” Raven asked pointedly, “…who is the real mastermind?”

“Someone with enough authority to bypass a lockdown,” Gallus reasoned. “Someone who’d have inside information on everything that’s happening at the palace, someone close to the princess that knows their meeting schedule, someone with enough means to give secret missions to the Royal Guard, and above all else…someone who has been here for the past fourteen to fifteen years.”

And with that he shifted his aim, pointing the crossbow at Kibitz.

Kibitz, naturally, turned incredulous. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” he argued, pointing an accusing hoof at Gallus. “You are simply throwing blind accusations!”

“Then explain why you wanted to be the first to interrogate Blueblood, before even Ditzy,” Gallus challenged.

Sputtering, Kibitz threw out his hooves. “So to brief Blueblood of his legal situation and personally ensure his rights are upheld! I have that authority! I’m not the only one who does either!” He flung a hoof at his fellow advisor. “Miss Inkwell could’ve just as easily done it, so why not accuse her?”

“Because Raven wasn’t in that position back when this was kick-started with Gwen and Spark,” Gallus reminded, sternly looking Kibitz in the eye, “But you were. You’ve been here a long time. In fact, aren’t you due to retire in just a few days? Wouldn’t that be convenient, to go into retirement right after successfully completing a conspiracy like this?”

“It would make it easy to all but disappear from the public eye,” Ditzy added, following Gallus’s logic.

Kibitz sputtered again. “But I’ve served faithfully for that whole time! Does that not prove I can be trusted?”

“Trusted enough to be managing everything on the princess’s schedule without question?” Gallus asked, “Because that’s part of what you do as advisor, right?” He then glanced at Twilight looking on with mixed feelings. “As I recall, Princess Celestia said she had no recollection of Spark’s meeting being scheduled, correct?”

“So she said, yes,” Twilight confirmed uncertainly. “But she may simply not be remembering it.”

“Assuming, of course, she ever knew about it at all,” Gallus said and looked back at Kibitz. “You were there, Kibitz, so you tell me—did you even tell Celestia about it or did you just never actually put it on her schedule?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Kibitz hissed. “You cannot prove I had anything to do with it! Every copy of that meeting being scheduled was destroyed!”

“Not all of them.”

All eyes turned as Spike and the two guards accompanying him suddenly arrived at Gallus’s side. As he strolled up grim-faced, he held up a plain manila folder stamped with the Night Guard crest.

Kibitz’s eyes widened in shock. “Where did you…how did you…?”

“Protocol thirty-three-A,” was Spike’s steely reply. “In the interest of promoting interagency cooperation, all documents filed into the Royal Guard archives must have a corresponding duplicate likewise filed within the Night Guard archives, and vice versa. Originally this was done manually. However, when Princess Celestia discovered duplicates weren’t being made like they should, she devised a spell that did this automatically from that point onward. Incidentally, she did this about a month before Spark’s death, so since it was still so new at the time, I thought, maybe, our mastermind hadn’t taken that into consideration. So I checked.” He held the folder up higher. “It paid off.”

Kibitz stared at the little dragon. “How did you even know all that?” he asked.

Spike held his paws askance. “I am a royal advisor, aren’t I?” he replied pointedly. But then he motioned to the folder he held. “More importantly though, I have documentation which scheduled Spark’s meeting with Princess Celestia. Guess who signed off on it?”

Without waiting for him to tell or show them himself, Twilight suddenly snatched the folder with her magic, whisked it through her magic barrier, and flipped it open to peer inside.  She only needed a glance. With a frown, she then turned the folder around so everyone else could see too. Kibitz’s loopy signature was impossible to miss upon the archived document. All eyes then turned to Kibitz, who was momentarily unable to vocalize any counters.

Ditzy turned somewhat smug. “You are infamously anti-Night Guard, Kibitz. So you probably didn’t even think to consider what our archives may or may not have held…didn’t you?”

“Come to think of it,” Twilight also remarked suddenly, her demeanor turning cold, “Kibitz was the one who not only introduced me to Gene Type but also repeatedly recommended his services. I hadn’t thought about it before, considering Gene Type was very good at what he did…but now it does seem like too much of a coincidence…”

“Kibitz was also the one who okayed the lieutenant commander going to meet with Streamline yesterday,” Raven also breathed, eyes going wide in realization. “Right before Streamline was assassinated too.”

“And it was Kibitz’s idea to even look for these documents, ultimately leading to us discovering copies were missing in the first place,” Spike also added.

Kibitz’s breathing had notably accelerated but otherwise remained resolute in denying everything. “All of this is not proof of guilt,” he reminded firmly.

“Then how about the two Choker’s Gas grenades hidden in your saddlebags?” the unicorn guard Ditzy was whispering to earlier suddenly announced. When this drew everyone’s attention to him, he motioned to his horn, its aura having been lit for the past several minutes. “Apologies, but it took a while for my scans to penetrate his magic barrier and get a reliable reading.”

Gallus then noticed something Kibitz had mostly hidden around his neck in addition to the body armor he wore. “That wouldn’t happen to be a gas mask you’ve got there, is it?” he asked the advisor, who he noticed tensed sharply at the question.

“Add that in with the body armor and the grenades and I’d think you’re preparing for a war instead of questioning a suspect,” Ditzy added sarcastically.

“The armor was a precaution, in case Blueblood tried something,” Kibitz growled weakly while conspicuously ignoring the matter of the grenades entirely.

“Was that the plan then?” Spike asked. “Sneak those grenades into the interrogation room then, once you were alone with Blueblood, discreetly set one off so to make it look like he was desperately trying to attack and use that as an excuse to finish him off, arguing self-defense? Was all that body armor just so to make it look good?”

Kibitz, at this point, was refusing to reply. Twilight narrowed her gaze, lowering her magic barrier. “…Kibitz, I think it’d be best if you stand down and submit to the authorities at this point.”

“I will do no such thing, your highness,” Kibitz retaliated, starting forward. “I will not submit to trumped-up charges and shaky circumstantial evidence because of—!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Gallus interrupted, waggling his weapon at Kibitz. “Let’s not forget that I’m the one with the crossbow pointed at you, not the other way around. And as I recall from Ditzy, this arrow is enchanted,” He nodded at the sole glowing arrowhead on the crossbow then at Kibitz’s shield, “meaning it’s capable of piecing your magic barrier.”

“You only have the one arrow though,” Kibitz argued back as he stopped but threw a hoof at Gallus, undeterred. “And I highly doubt you know how to properly fire that crossbow!”

Gallus just raised an eyebrow at him. “You want to put that to the test then?” he challenged.

Kibitz scoffed. “The only thing I am guilty of here is doing my job!” he hissed instead. “Part of that job is to help ensure any and all threats to crown and country are removed, and right now you are making yourself into quite the threat to both.”

“What makes you so sure that we’re what you think we are though?” Gallus countered. “Because that’s what this is really about isn’t it, us being the unnatural hybrids? You know, there was always something about how you acted around me and Spike from the moment I met you. A sense of distancing and disdain, like you didn’t really want to be in the same room with us, all just because we’re the freaks of nature to you.”

“Don’t go putting words into my mouth, griffon.”

“And yet those same freaks of nature are the ones who’ve backed you into a corner. You must be so infuriated we kept escaping every trap you’ve laid with increasing desperation. Nothing in all of this has gone as you planned, has it? Never once expecting we’d walk away from Gene Type’s airship alive.”

“You weren’t supposed to!”

Kibitz’s impulsive outburst seemed to echo within the suddenly silent room. A cold mood settled as all eyes not only stared at Kibitz but also darkened gravely. All pretenses vanished. The guards shifted their defensive stances onto him as well. Kibitz, perfectly aware of this, glanced around just as darkly before returning his gaze back to the griffon aiming the crossbow at him and the little dragon standing beside him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he ultimately concluded, intensifying his magic barrier’s strength with a flare of his horn and readjusting his stance so his body armor could maximally shield him. “I will not surrender. I will not give you your so-called justice. So what do you intend to do now, hmm? Do you intend to kill me?”

“You have enough blood on your hooves that I’d be more than justified,” Gallus replied coldly, feeling his blood boil at the thought of how many creatures had been killed throughout all of this, including his parents. Still, he caught on to what Kibitz was getting at, narrowing his gaze at him. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked. “Have me be the one resorting to violence. It’d be your chance to prove I am the danger you want everyone to think I am, twistingly justifying everything you’ve done.”

“Call it what you will,” Kibitz dismissed, not backing down. “But you may not have much other option in a moment if this continues.”

Letting that warning hang, he stared Gallus and Spike down, awaiting their response. Gallus glared back for a long moment, observing that the only vulnerable spots on Kibitz he had clear aim of would almost certainly be lethal. He glanced at everyone else bracing for a fight, likewise expecting no other alternative, before finally settling on Spike standing beside him, deeply concerned. Finally, Gallus looked back at Kibitz.

And lowered the crossbow.

“No,” Gallus replied resolutely as he did this. “I am not the creature you think I am.”

Kibitz’s eyes widened briefly. “How do you plan to capture me then?” he demanded.

“Take it up with them,” Gallus said, motioning to everyone else as he tossed the crossbow back to Ditzy, who swiftly caught it and aimed it at Kibitz. “But I refuse to stoop to your level.” He wrapped one leg around Spike, who swiftly fell in step with Gallus’s intentions as he pulled the dragon closer. “Neither of us will.”

“You can’t be serious!” Kibitz snapped with growing fury.

“C’mon Spike,” Gallus said, ignoring Kibitz as he turned to leave.

But then he suddenly heard Ditzy shout urgently. “Gallus! Spike!”

He turned back to see Kibitz had whipped out a Choker’s Gas grenade from his saddlebag and held the baseball-sized green orb aloft with his magic. Raven let out a panicked yell while Twilight lit her horn. Ditzy and the other guards all tensed, gearing up to act. Behind Kibitz, Blueblood grabbed Aquila and voluntarily dove into the interrogation room, slamming its door closed behind him and sealing themselves within. Kibitz ignored all of this though, keeping his glaring eyes on Gallus and Spike—the only two he cared about now.

“I can end this,” he hissed at the pair in warning. “Right here, right now.”

Spike and Gallus stopped and stared back at him. Silence fell for a long moment, but nothing further happened. Gallus realized Kibitz was still trying to force the two into attacking. But, daringly and to Gallus’s somewhat surprise, Spike folded his arms in refusal.

“No,” he spoke confidently to Kibitz, “you won’t.”

Kibitz’s eyes widened at the dragon calling his bluff. “What do you mean no?”

Suddenly, Gallus understood Spike’s point. “Because you’ve had everybody but yourself do your dirty work up to now,” he replied. “So if you really ever had the guts to kill us yourself…you would’ve already done so ages ago and avoided all of this.”

Kibitz raised the grenade in his grasp higher, but his body trembled as his resolve clearly faltered. “No…no…”

“Immoral enough to order innocent children to be murdered, but too much of a coward to do the deed himself,” Spike summarized coldly. “And yet you’re the one who dares call us the monsters.”

Kibitz eyes were ablaze with fury, but he still couldn’t bring himself to throw the grenade. “You…you…”

By that point he had delayed too long. Determining she had her chance, Twilight cast a spell at the unicorn’s magic shield which popped it like a soap bubble. The moment it was down, Ditzy and all of the guards but one (who remained guarding the cuffed assassin) surged forward and surrounded him, the unicorn guard wrenching the unused grenade from Kibitz’s grasp before also relieving him of his saddlebags.

Kibitz’s glare remained on the two hybrid brothers that remained eluding him though. “Don’t you ignore me!” he demanded with growing desperation, still trying to get a rise out of them.

Gallus did anyway. “Let’s get out of here, Spike,” he concluded and once again turning to go. “We have better places to be.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed as he gave Kibitz one last parting glare before following. “There’s nothing for us to do here.”

“Get back here!” Kibitz howled after them. “GET BACK HERE!”

But it fell on deaf ears, the disgraced unicorn left to face the growing fury of the rest while Gallus and Spike walked off side by side, never once looking back.
> Logbook
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apparently, the only truly excitable thing that happened after that was while Aquila and Blueblood were being let out the interrogation room again, as Aquila unexpectedly swung a punch at Kibitz and gave the unicorn a black eye. She claimed (among other things) that this was “comeuppance” for all the trouble he’d caused. Otherwise, Kibitz shouted after Gallus and Spike for a moment longer, but once it was clear they weren’t returning, he clammed up and refused to say another word after that. He let himself be cuffed and arrested only begrudgingly but was nonetheless detained without further event.

“I don’t get it then,” Spike said when they all gathered later that evening for dinner, using the chance to update everyone on these happenings. “Why try and rile me and Gallus up in the first place? It clearly didn’t help him.”

“My best guess?” Ditzy replied, having shed her eyepatch and helmet while joining them and Twilight. “He figured that if he was going down, he wanted to bring you two down with him however he could. And if he couldn’t get you killed as originally planned, then he at least wanted you to discredit yourselves by getting you to lash back.” She then gave the two a pleased grin. “Fortunately, that’s why ignoring him like you did was so brilliant—it robbed him of having even that by proving yourselves the better creatures.”

“I’m proud of you both for doing that, by the way,” Twilight added with genuineness as she set down her fork—like the rest of them, she had mostly finished with her meal. “A lesser creature would’ve taken the shot anyway.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Gallus replied, taken aback by the praise. He’d actually been questioning whether or not he should’ve taken the shot anyway ever since passing up the chance to, wondering if it’d really been tactically sound let alone about getting some comeuppance of his own. So to get such praise for it did fill his heart with warm reassurance that he’d made the right call.

“Anyway,” Ditzy continued, “the point is that Kibitz is refusing to confess anything. But at this point he almost doesn’t need to, because now that word of his capture is getting around, everyone else has been very willing.” She smirked. “You should’ve seen Diorite’s face when I informed him that we had Kibitz and he realized the jig was up. Now he’s suddenly a whole lot more interested in giving up information.”

“Probably in an attempt to try and save himself,” Spike concluded with a mixed expression.

“It’s a similar story for our assassin friend,” Twilight went on. “We’d learned that when she snuck into the palace, she brought with her a cart as part of her cover and left it parked on the grounds outside. She claimed it shouldn’t have anything relevant by deliberate design, but when searched, a bomb was discovered hidden within it that even she hadn’t known about.”

“A bomb?” Gallus repeated in horror.

“Don’t worry, it was successfully disarmed,” Twilight quickly assured. “But its timer was very clearly set that, had the assassin not been caught, she would’ve been in the middle of hauling the cart back to a prearranged safe house when it exploded, taking out both the cart and her.”

Gallus’s eyebrows went up at that. “Ditzy, what did you say the first rule to a successful assassination was?”

“Kill the assassin,” Ditzy answered without hesitation, “so to avoid leaving any loose ends. No doubt Kibitz had that bomb put there for exactly that reason.” She smirked again. “But as a result, that assassin is now all too happy to throw Kibitz under the carriage and come clean on everything too.”

“I also have ponies going through Kibitz’s office in search of clues as we speak,” Twilight added. “He was apparently already in the process of systematically destroying his records, but we’ve still found plenty he hadn’t gotten to yet.”

“All of it is more than enough to confirm that Kibitz is indeed the creature we’ve been looking for,” Ditzy concluded more gravely. “You know…in case there was still any doubt at this point.”

Spike sighed, slumping in his chair. “Well, he had successfully played the part of the faithful advisor for three princesses and a whole lot of years,” he mumbled glumly.

“And he’d been sitting there right in front of me that whole time,” Twilight added, her expression transforming into a glare. She suddenly slapped the table with her hoof in anger. “No wonder he was consistently staying one step ahead of us at every turn, he was in every meeting we held about it. We were practically giving him all the information he’d needed without anyone ever suspecting a thing!”

A heavy silence fell for a moment as they let Twilight fume over the betrayal for a moment.

“So…what’s going to happen to Kibitz now?” Spike asked, sounding uncomfortable.

Twilight heaved a small sigh and forced herself to calm down. “He will stand trial for his crimes,” she promised, “as will all the rest of the conspirators. So the courts will be the ones to determine their final fates, but once it’s all over…I expect all of them will be facing several years in prison at the very least.”

Gallus harrumphed at that. “And good riddance,” he muttered under his breath.

Spike twiddled his thumbs uncomfortably for a moment. “Do you think we’ve really ended it then?” he asked. “What if there are other conspirators still out there that we don’t know about, ones that could step in and fill Kibitz’s place?”

“That’s why we’ve been thoroughly interrogating all of the ones we’ve captured, getting everything we can out of them,” Ditzy responded reassuringly. “So far all the information we’ve gotten confirms that all conspirators are accounted for or have already met their end. Most are even ones we already knew about, such as Diorite, Gene Type, Commodore Garrett…but there’re a couple extra we can confirm were participants now too.” She motioned to Gallus. “For example, we’ve learned the identities of the griffons that attacked Gwen at her home.”

Gallus inhaled sharply without meaning to at that news. He found his talons involuntary gripping the edge of the table. “…and?” he prompted after a split second of steadying himself.

“All of them just common thugs hired as muscle and were never very high on the totem pole,” Ditzy assured. “Turns out there were only four in total. As we already knew from Gruff, one was taken out the night of by Gwen acting in self-defense. A second died from overdosing on drugs a couple years later. A third, amusingly enough, is already in prison for unrelated crimes. Which just leaves the fourth who’d been left mostly to his own devices ever since, so long as he kept his beak shut.”

“I’ve been coordinating with Lord Gestal about him, by the way,” Twilight added. “Turns out he’s committed several crimes of varying seriousness in the years since which the griffon authorities have been seeking to arrest him for. Luckily for us, Kibitz had briefly contacted him back when you two were in Griffonstone, so to task him with searching for you. But that meant we had an address which I passed on to Gestal. He’s since reported that the authorities raided that location and have successfully taken him into custody.”

Gallus let out his breath he didn’t know he was holding, relieved to hear this.

“We’ve also learned more about who the leaders of this conspiracy were,” Ditzy reported.

Spike furrowed his brow. “I thought Kibitz was the leader,” he said.

“He is now, but originally he was just one of three working together. Each of the three was responsible for matters pertaining to their native region. So Kibitz was naturally in charge of the Equestria side of things, Rhyolite was another leader who handled things in the Dragon Lands—all not especially surprising given what we knew about either of them already. However, it’s the one in charge of the Griffon Kingdom region that interested me the most.” Ditzy again glanced in Gallus’s direction. “Tell me, Gallus, are you familiar with a Lord George?”

Gallus’s eyes bulged as he leaned away from the table in shock. “You’re pulling my tail!” he shouted, stunned.

“I…take it that’s someone significant then,” Spike surmised, taken aback by Gallus’s reaction.

“Lord George was a very prominent member of the griffon lords and of considerable influence in the griffon government,” Twilight summarized.

Gallus snorted. “He was more than that,” he breathed as he remained stunned at this reveal. “Griffons thought of him as the last of the old traditional lords, the ones who governed back before the collapse of the griffon monarchy. Everyone respected him, thought of him very highly, he…he was almost royalty. When he passed away back when I was around six, the state funeral held for him was enormous and griffons everywhere were holding their own commemorations honoring his life and career.” He remembered it very well because many of those commemoration ceremonies involved large public feasts, offering plenty of food that he, still a street urchin at the time, could easily steal pieces of without anybody noticing—he’d eaten well that day. But opting to keep that detail to himself, he instead looked gapingly at Ditzy. “You’re saying he was involved in this conspiracy too?”

“More than that—he started it,” Ditzy elaborated, to Gallus’s further shock. “In fact, according to what we’ve learned, it had all been his idea. Like you said, he was an old traditional lord, which meant he didn’t take well to the decidedly non-traditional idea of two different species being romantically involved like Gwen and Spark were. He had even more issue with it when…well…”

“…I was hatched,” Gallus concluded, his heart sinking in dismayed understanding.

Ditzy nodded sadly. “According to Diorite, he saw this as a…corruption…for both species and did not want to tolerate it. So, as we’ve been told, he decided to do something about it. When the rest of the lords refused to get involved for varying political reasons, he started rallying together like-minded creatures so to secretly plot an…intervention. Rhyolite was second to join in, followed by Kibitz once it became apparent some Equestrian influence would help.” She sighed. “Or so we’ve been told. Of the conspirators we have in custody now, none of them had the chance to actually meet George before he died except for Kibitz.”

“And of course Kibitz won’t own up to it,” Spike concluded.

Ditzy nodded again. “Any others involved in the conspiracy while George was still alive have since passed away for one reason or another. Even Diorite never had the chance to meet him in person, or so he’s been swearing. So we are operating a bit on second-hoof information here. Even if Kibitz does wise up and decide to cooperate, we’ll probably never know the full story of how George fits into this exactly, just that he did.”

Gallus had developed a thousand yard stare, contemplating how much of a blow to the lord’s revered reputation this was. “There’s going to be so many griffons deeply disappointed to hear this,” he mumbled.

“To be honest, Gallus, I’m not sure Lord Gestal will believe me if I tell him,” Twilight admitted in acknowledgement of George’s powerful reputation. “Further, I have fears there could easily still be plenty of creatures out there who would be inclined to support George regardless of his views, so publicizing his involvement may not be to our advantage.” She took a deep breath. “But I have to wonder if I even really need to. Either way, George has already passed on. We can’t exactly press charges against him now. Nothing we do is going to change that. So perhaps it is better to focus on who we can hold responsible for these terrible deeds instead.”

“I guess it is more important that we make sure all the conspirators can’t cause any more harm anyway,” Spike reasoned. He glanced around at everyone at the table. “Which we have done…right?”

“Yes, so far as we know,” Ditzy said, “Unless there’s someone out there we haven’t been told about.”

“Which is why I’m going to keep you both under guard for just a little longer, until we’re further along with getting this sorted out,” Twilight told Gallus and Spike, “Just…as a precaution and a reassurance for myself.”

Gallus smiled a little. “Yeah, I understand, princess,” he replied.

“But I really think it unlikely there’s any more stragglers at this point,” Ditzy said. “Most conspiracies are usually light on numbers out of necessity. After all, the more creatures you bring into it, the harder it is to keep it secret. And we’ve accounted for a fair sum of creatures now. Besides, it’s the power and influence of the creatures you have participating in the conspiracy that really makes it work, and I daresay it had plenty of those.”

“Unfortunately,” Gallus said with a sigh, pushing aside his long emptied dinner plate so to lean his head on the table.

Spike glanced at him in concern. “Something wrong, Gallus?” he asked. “You still seem…stressed.”

“I don’t know,” Gallus admitted. “On one side I’m glad we’re finally ending this whole mess, but…on the other side, it all still feels so…” he paused, searching for the right word. “…hollow, I guess?”

“I think I know what you mean,” Twilight said, her gaze turning distant. “We’ve stopped the conspiracy but not without serious harm still being done.”

“True,” Spike agreed sadly. “How many creatures have died throughout all of this?”

“Too many,” Ditzy replied immediately. “And it was too many from the moment of the very first death. No one should’ve had to die for any of this. But, despite all of our best efforts, death has happened anyway. The most we can do now is making sure it ends with that and no more follow.”

“Maybe that’s what it is then,” Gallus said. “I guess I don’t feel like I’ve actually gotten as much…closure…out of this as I thought I would.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Gallus,” Twilight said. “If it helps, I do wish I could do more to help you both get that closure, but…”

“It’s okay, princess,” Gallus said, sitting up. “I know there’s only so much any of us can do about it. Besides, you’ve done far more than I could’ve ever asked of you. Seriously. I…probably owe you quite a lot.”

Twilight, not unsurprisingly, shook her head. “You don’t owe me a thing, Gallus,” she said. “If anything, I feel like I’m the one who owes you more.”

“Well, you all can figure out who owes who what later,” Ditzy quipped with a grin. “For right now, I recommend savoring what victories we’ve gotten. And they aren’t insignificant victories either. We got our guys in the end, and in doing so still helped to save lives, ensuring more deaths shouldn’t be coming. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but that alone is enough to help me sleep peacefully tonight.”

Spike chuckled a little at that. “It is nice knowing that weight isn’t pressing down on me anymore,” he agreed.

Gallus also had to nod in silent agreement, even though he hadn’t managed to fully relax just yet. He supposed a part of him was still afraid to, just in case their worst fears proved true and this really wasn’t over just yet. But still, seeing Kibitz taken into custody had unwound so much tension in of itself, it left him feeling somewhat exhausted. Like Ditzy, he figured he was probably going to be sleeping well tonight.

The brief silence that’d fallen around the table at that point was then interrupted by a polite knock on the dining room doors followed a moment later by Raven entering the room. “Oh good,” she remarked upon seeing them in there, “I was hoping you’d all still be here.”

“I assume you have something to report, Raven?” Twilight asked.

“You could say that,” Raven said as she joined them at the table, a bundle of something being carried in her magic. “As you know, I’ve been busy helping the others sort through Kibitz’s office in search of clues.”

“And?” Ditzy prompted, interested. “Find anything new?”

“Yes and no,” Raven said, taking the bundle and placing it on the table. “We’re still uncovering several secret documents pertaining to Kibitz’s actions for his plans, of course. But while they provide a clearer picture of what happened when, we haven’t found much that really tells us anything new we haven’t already learned. So we’ve mostly just been documenting it as additional evidence to hold against Kibitz and his cohorts later down the line.”

“Every bit helps, I’m sure,” Spike said encouragingly.

“Indeed,” Raven agreed with an approving nod. “The more evidence we have, the stronger a case we build against these creatures. But that’s not why I came here.” She removed from the small bundle an unassuming book of medium size and with a worn navy blue cover. “While going through Kibitz’s office, we found this hidden in the back of one of his desk drawers. The moment we realized what it was, I knew I should bring it straight here.” She nodded to Gallus and Spike and, instead of giving the book to either Ditzy or Twilight as one would’ve expected, she instead slid it over to the two brothers. “I think that if it should be in any creature’s grasp at this point, it should be you two.”

Gallus pinched the book by the corner of its cover and pulled it closer so he and Spike could examine it better. However its cover was completely unmarked except for the word “LOGBOOK” being imprinted on it in big serifed letters.

“A logbook?” Spike repeated skeptically, raising a questioning eyebrow at Raven while Gallus opened the book to its front page. “No offense, Raven, but I don’t see how we’re relevant to what’s just a travel log for—”

He was cut short when Gallus abruptly let out a sharp grasp and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer so to see the book’s front page on which was a preprinted template for identifying its owner:


THIS BOOK IS THE
PROPERTY OF
___Spark (Dragon)___


The name had been filled in on the provided line in very casual print, but still written to be clearly legible, leaving no doubt as to the name of the logbook’s original owner. Through his heart-pounding shock as the significance of what he held in his talons sank in, Gallus found some amusement at the idea of Spark apparently thinking it important to specify himself as a dragon precisely, like it wouldn’t have been immediately obvious. He allowed Spike, also in wide-eyed shock, to reach over and reverently grab one side of the book, moving it so it was more centered between them and making it easier for them to stare at the front page.

Gallus had almost entirely forgotten about the others in the room until Ditzy pointedly cleared her throat. “You, uh, wanna fill in the rest of us?” she prompted.

“It’s Spark’s,” Spike summed up in a breathy voice, making him sound almost winded. Gallus supposed that made sense, considering the surprise had hit like a boffyball to the gut. “This is Spark’s book.”

Ditzy and Twilight’s eyes similarly widened and looked to Raven for an explanation.

“I only flipped through it long enough to confirm what it was,” Raven first offered as a disclaimer. “But it appears Spark used it as a record of his botany studies, the travels he made doing so, and later just a journal of his general life.”

The latter point was what made the book feel all the more special to Gallus considering what information it could hold about the father he’d scarcely known.

“But…how…?” Twilight stuttered, still trying to grasp this reveal herself.

Raven could only shrug. “All I know is that Kibitz had it, though for what reasons I can only guess. I don’t know how he managed to lay hoof upon it.”

Ditzy, meanwhile, had been rubbing at her chin thoughtfully with one wingtip. “I assume it came into the possession of the conspirators the same time they got ahold of the photo album and the bloodline stone,” she reasoned. “As for why, they probably thought it might have relevant information needed for their plans.” She shrugged herself. “Or they feared there was some secret within they didn’t want discovered.”

“But if that’s the case, then why not just destroy it immediately upon finding it?” Twilight asked. “Why hold onto it for all these years?”

“I suppose Kibitz will have to tell us, if I can ever get him to talk,” Ditzy replied. “Until then…I don’t know, maybe he just forgot he had it?”

“I don’t really care about the whys,” Gallus suddenly declared, resisting the urge to press the book to his chest and never let go—it was only fair that he share that privilege with Spike too. “I’m just glad to have it at all.” He reverently ran his talons along the edge of its cover, one of the last pieces he had of the dragon who’d fathered him.

“That’s why I brought it to you in the first place,” Raven again reiterated. “Not only did I think you’d both be very interested in reading what it has to say, I believe possession of it should fall to you two anyway, as Spark’s next of kin.”

Twilight nodded to herself, agreeing. “I’m sure Spark would’ve wanted that, had he ever gotten the chance to say as such.”

Gallus felt Spike shudder beside him, not out of fear but at the strength of the emotions flowing through him. It struck him how unusual it must seem to be so worked up about what was an old and unassuming looking book to anyone else. But at the moment, this little book was perhaps one of the most important things the two of them could have. It was Spike who, after a long pause, summed it up the best. “This could hold secrets about the family we never had,” he murmured in a whisper, “clues what it might’ve been like, had they…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of the statement unfinished.

“It could tell us their thoughts and feelings about…well…” Gallus began, but he too trailed off, leaving it unfinished. Ultimately he felt like he didn’t need to—they all knew what he was thinking.

The others watched the two of them stare at the book for a long moment in silence. “So…what does it say?” Ditzy finally inquired.

But neither Gallus nor Spike had quite mustered the courage to turn past the book’s first page yet. Now feeling pressured to change that, Gallus took the book and turned to a random page towards its middle. “Ah, well, let’s see here,” he said as he locked eyes on the nearest start of an entry and, without taking in anything about what that entry was about, proceeded to read aloud.

“We had a bit of a scare today. We needed to stock up on various supplies for around the house, so we all flew out to a little griffon village called Alpbeak nestled in a valley deeper in the mountains. It’s out of our way for a supply run when we have Griffonstone literally right there next to us, but given how things currently are, we figured going someplace where we weren’t as known was better. And while the Alpbeak griffons didn’t seem comfortable having us around, they recognized we were just visiting and figured that the sooner we did whatever we were there to do, the sooner we’d be out of their plumage again.”

“Sounds like this was around when the persecution Spark and Gwen faced neared its peak,” Ditzy interrupted in a mumble, thinking out loud.

“Shh,” Spike swiftly shushed her and motioned for Gallus to keep reading, which he did.

“At first everything went fine. Gwen was familiar with the village’s history and gleefully pointed out everything of historical significance to the rest of us. I myself thought the terrain was pretty but admittedly more focused on completing the task at paw. Perhaps because of that, we weren’t keeping as close an eye on a certain someone like we clearly should’ve been because we both looked around and realized, to our natural horror, that we were suddenly missing our littlest member.”

Gallus’s narration started to slow and turn more solemn as he realized just who it was Spark was talking about.

“A hasty search ensued. Poor Gwen was nearly hysterical and I was about ready to turn the whole town upside-down myself. But when we looked into a nearby candy shop, there was Gallus, the little scamp stuffing his beak to his heart’s content. Needless to say, neither of us were particularly pleased, but when we sat down to scold him, us being upset apparently bothered him enough that he gave us the candy he hadn’t eaten yet, trying to make it right again. That’s Gallus for you though—independent enough to go pull stunts like this entirely on his own but sweet enough to still be thinking of others at the same time. He’s a special kid, and not just because of his mixed parentage.

  I admit, I often lay awake these nights, wondering if we can actually get through this okay and if I actually have the strength to endure it long enough to get there. But then I look at this sweet, sweet, little thing the universe has blessed us both with and…I know little in this world will stop me from at least trying, if just for his sake.

  Either way, I cannot iterate just how very glad I am to have him as a son.”

Gallus trailed off from reading there, staring down at the words as his heart filled with such warmth, he was surprised his chest wasn’t glowing. He re-read that final line to himself repeatedly, a grammatically simple line yet the meaning it brought to him so important…

“…Gallus?” he heard Ditzy ask cautiously after a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” he managed to reply numbly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just…you’re crying.”

“Am I?” Gallus rubbed at one eye with his talons and was startled at how wet they came away as. “Oh…I guess I am.” Somehow, he couldn’t really be bothered by that. He suddenly remembered Spike and glanced down at him to see the dragon had already wrapped himself around his torso in a hug, looking up at him with moistening eyes as well but also a soft grin that somehow summed up the sheer…joy…Gallus was feeling at the moment.

A moment of silence passed as the others looked on at the scene for a moment before Twilight spoke up. “Real quick, does anyone else have anything else we need to discuss?” she asked swiftly. When both Raven and Ditzy signaled that they did not, Twilight nodded conclusively and stood. “Then let’s adjourn for now.” She gave an understanding glance in Gallus and Spike’s direction. “I think this is a matter the rest of us should offer some privacy for.”

Gallus merely nodded in thankful agreement. He suspected neither he nor Twilight knew just how right she would be about that.





He and Spike took the logbook back to their room, sitting down together on the bed so to read it through in full, this time starting at the beginning. Spark had initially started the logbook so to catalog his botanical research as he journeyed, opening with a brief and to the point explanation of who he was, what he planned to do, and why he was writing this. In this, Spark made clear his interest in plants but wasn’t finding other dragons sharing that interest, much less supporting him. Most seemed to think it a foolish endeavor and teased him for what they saw as something silly. So instead he decided to stop bothering with them and go and learn more about plants himself.

As such, the first several entries were very factual and technical, simply covering how he’d travel to such and such location, got such and such items, and did such and such tasks or studied such and such plants. They ended up not spending as much time reading this part as the really only interesting details were the occasional sketches of plants Spark drew or some of the places he traveled to—at one point Spike realized a coastline Spark described visiting was near Mount Aris and the rest of hippogriff territory. He’d also appeared to have flown within Equestria’s borders a couple of times during this period, though rarely much further inland than its own coast.

Finally though, there was that faithful day in the Griffon Kingdom. Spark, it turned out, had actually been to the Griffon Kingdom a couple of times before this—Gallus even recognized one of the plants studied in a previous visit as a hobo fruit bush. But this visit was when he met Gwen for the first time. It went pretty much as Gruff had described it, though Spark never spoke about either of them being lost or needing directions to anywhere. Instead, to both Gallus and Spike’s amusement, Spark spoke of Gwen more with annoyance, going on about she wouldn’t stop bombarding him with needling questions he wasn’t really interested in answering. Yet even then, he conceded the encounter ended “positively” for them both, meaning the seed was nonetheless planted. And it wasn’t long before Spark found an excuse to see Gwen again by offering her an old minotaur goblet from his hoard, figuring she’d be interested in it as a historian.

“That’s actually very significant,” Spike commented on the matter. “A dragon doesn’t just give up something from their hoard like that.”

And shortly thereafter, Gwen returned the favor by inviting Spark to the Griffon Kingdom and showing him a plant she thought would interested him, which he was and went on about it for a couple of paragraphs. Nonetheless, it didn’t take much reading between the lines to see what the two were really doing was finding excuses to visit each other, and multiple more instances like this soon followed. But what was obvious to others apparently wasn’t so much to Gwen or Spark as they spent most of this in denial. That is until they spent an evening just talking about life and Spark started to catch on to just how much they’d bonded.

“I feel like we had some sort of…connection…that evening,” Spark wrote about the experience later while mulling it over, “Something more than before. I almost dare not speculate as to what…but the truth of the matter is that I am finding myself thinking of Gwen any chance I can and looking ahead to when I can next see her, to the point of actively looking for opportunities just to do so, and no matter how I turn it over in my head, my conclusion is still the same: I think I am starting to fall in love with this griffon.”

Fearing it may not be both ways though, Spark cautiously kept this revelation to himself, though it ultimately proved unnecessary as during their very next visit Gwen ended up blurting out her own feelings and that settled that. Understanding the uniqueness of their relationship, they initially planned to take it slow. In fact, when Spark wrote about intentions to take Gwen to the Dragon Lands, he planned to keep it “fully appropriate” between them all throughout. But as Gallus and Spike already knew, fate had other ideas, and in the very next entry Spark admitted upfront that he had, in his own words, “added Gwen to my hoard.” Which was indeed the sort of euphemism Gallus thought it to be, because he had to discreetly (without Spike noticing) skip over most of that entry due to Spark getting a little more detailed than either of them needed to know.

Besides, Gallus figured there were still things that should remain between their parents.

From that point onwards though, Spark’s tone in his logbook changed, becoming less matter-of-fact logs of his journeys and studies and more a personal diary about settling down with Gwen. He wrote of Gwen frequently, so much so it was undebatable he loved her with all his heart. And while none of the entries were ever written by Gwen’s talons, it wasn’t hard to see from the context that she similarly loved him too. Even when they fought as every couple does (such as a shouting match Spark detailed them having after making a costly mistake while building the house they’d eventually move into), there usually accompanied guilt for doing anything to hurt that bond between them, even if briefly, followed by swift attempts to make amends.

Spark, in fact, ended up giving up a large part of his own hoard so to finance them having someplace comfortable to settle down, and another part he ended up having to abandon in the Dragon Lands as he simply wouldn’t have the means to take it with him. The remainder went into their pooled savings so to fund any future expenses, meaning in the end Spark sacrificed pretty much total claim to his hoard for the sake of this new life he’d chosen. Tellingly though, Spark claimed not to regret it, saying “I have a new and even better hoard now,” and wanted the “old” hoard to go towards the new family he was building. Even though it probably should’ve been obvious by now, Gallus was again quite impressed by how much Spark was willing to give up for those he loved.

The couple fully believed it would remain just the two of them though. “We expect we will never have kids of our own,” Spark wrote not long after they’d settled down, “But we’ve decided we can live with that, so long as we have each other.” So it was rather entertaining to read of their shock upon producing the egg that would hatch into Gallus, stuck somewhere between swearing it should be impossible and daring to hope they’d been wrong after all. As they could not secure a doctor that could (or would, given the egg’s controversial lineage) confirm one way or the other, they weren’t even certain the egg was fertile until, about a week after it was laid, candling it at last clearly revealed the developing embryo inside. Spark, in his joy, even produced a detailed sketch of said embryo.

“That’s a sight that’s just as bizarre as it is heartwarming for me,” Gallus mumbled aloud while studying the sketch, “considering I’m that embryo.”

Spike laughed. “They were just excited to have you, Gallus,” he assured.

Gallus decided that was putting it bluntly, since Spark went on to regularly produce similar updates until hatching. When he wasn’t doing that though, he was fretting about whether or not he could be the father that chick would need, something Gallus related to more than he expected, as it wasn’t too different from his fretting about being a brother to Spike. Though, of course, parenting brought a whole different set of challenges. For example, it turned out Spark greatly disliked changing dirty diapers, sought to avoid it if he could, and frequently griped about changing any particularly bad ones Gallus produced as an infant (it was noted that fried potatoes didn’t seem to agree with him at that age, a surprise to Gallus considering he had no problem with them now). Also in his youth, Gallus was apparently bad about preening his wings, annoying Gwen so much that Spark often teased her about it (before being reminded that he couldn’t talk since he had not a single feather upon his own wings).

But even in spite of all that and more, Spark never spoke poorly of Gallus. Even after an instance of him getting ahold of the logbook and scribbling over some of the botanical research Spark still did in his free time, ruining it (and which Spark chose to leave in the book as-is, managing to guilt-trip Gallus years later and from beyond the grave), Spark couldn’t bring himself to speak ill of his young son, despite how clearly this act infuriated him. In fact, reading about how both parents looked after him, played with him, and above all, loved him meant a lot to Gallus, much more than he’d been prepared for.

Nor, it seemed, was Spike, who reacted much the same way when, late into the logbook, his own egg was laid and Spark went through the same joyful gushing he had for Gallus, complete with sketches of candling Spike’s egg and the developing embryo inside (they were amused to find that Spike’s spines were clearly visible very early within the egg). As Gwen had gotten the honor of naming Gallus, Spark was assigned that honor this time. He’d brainstormed a few potential names in the logbook, resulting in unintended amusement over the names Spike could’ve had instead.

“I could’ve been named Pyro?” Spike had even blurted out at one point. “Aww, that would’ve been an awesome name to have!”

Unfortunately, Spark never got the chance to settle on a final name. Gallus noticed fairly early on that his father didn’t like talking about the growing discrimination he and his budding family faced, often avoiding getting into it in favor of focusing on happier times. But it was still there, and its growing and unrelenting presence wore on Spark and Gwen quite a lot, to the point Gallus suspected there were indeed many sleepless nights between them fearing what else might come.

One of only a few times Spark truly and openly wrote about it was one night almost immediately following Spike’s egg being laid, in which Spark seemed to suffer an emotional breakdown and his writing proceeded into a downward spiral. He deeply feared whether he could really protect his family from the threats starting to surround it to the point of wondering if it was futile to try. It was almost devastating to read, so much so Gallus wished he could reach into the logbook so to hug and reassure Spark. His past self must’ve had the same idea though, because near the end of this self-depreciating entry, Spark abruptly stopped this talk before explaining that young Gallus had awoken and refused to go back to sleep unless he was snuggled tightly against Spark’s side, something Spark found immensely calming.

“I almost wonder if that was Gallus’s whole idea,” Spark, now in a better mood, concluded his entry with. “Somehow, he could sense his father’s misery and wasn’t about to let that stand unless he did something to make it better, which would be just like the little guy.”

Gallus had to agree. That did seem like something he’d do.

But all of this heartwarming talk still couldn’t change the ending. The logbook stopped abruptly with Spark talking about leaving for the Dragon Lands with Spike’s egg just before it all unraveled. That last entry was mostly discussing the plan of action and how Gallus and Gwen would be staying behind, something that Spark was less than comfortable with. But he felt they’d be much less safe if they came with him to the Dragon Lands, even with Dragon Lord Torch’s promises of protection, and Spark clearly worried about that far more. Gwen seemed confident everything would work out though, so partly because of this, Spark ended what ultimately proved to be his final entry in good spirits.

Thus knowing that both Spark and Gwen would instead be dead before the end of that same week only made it all the more tragic.

Yet despite that, Gallus found reading the logbook still removed some of that lingering disconnect between himself and the parents he otherwise only scarcely remembered, making them feel more real and not so distant and abstract. It also made him wish all the more they hadn’t been taken so cruelly from him—they’d truly been the parents he’d always wanted. So even when it grew late and Spike, weary from the day’s many dramatic events, decided to turn in, Gallus remained awake, trying to use this treasure trove of clues to further piece together that past life.

It was while going through the logbook once again that Gallus realized there was yet another creature to consider in all this and, with that in mind, asked to be escorted down to the medical wing where Gruff still lay unconscious in his cot. He was looking a little better in that his face wasn’t so pale and his breathing more obvious, but while the doctors were now confident Gruff would recover eventually, his condition otherwise hadn’t changed from the previous evening. Nonetheless, considering the major victory they’d achieved today, Gallus felt like Gruff still shouldn’t be excluded—he had helped get this victory too, after all.

So, not minding the guard reverently standing by the door, Gallus sat in a seat across from Gruff’s bed and went back to the logbook, this time looking for references to the elder griffon. Spark, it turned out, didn’t mention Gruff all that often, despite him definitely being present from time to time. In fact, for about the first half, if Spark mentioned Gruff at all it was usually out of disdain. The two really hadn’t gotten along at first, with Spark’s complaints often consisting of unkind remarks about Gruff’s trademark vitriol. It’d seemed it was returned from Gruff as well, as Gallus got the impression that part of the reason Gruff went unmentioned so often was because he was trying to avoid Spark.

However, Gwen had a fair bit of respect for Gruff—not surprising given Gruff got along with her well enough—and didn’t approve of her husband’s initial distaste for him. At one point Spark noted her telling him that there was more to Gruff than his abrasive exterior. Further, she saw him as a friend and wished Spark would too. Spark remained slow to try though until a time where he’d gone into Griffonstone for an emergency supply run with a still infant Gallus. While on the way back, he was harassed by an extremely rude griffoness who called Gallus a name so vulgar that Spark, though clearly incensed about it, refused to repeat it in the logbook. It was about then that Gruff abruptly appeared on the scene and came to Spark’s defense by, in Spark’s words, “chewing up this griffoness and spitting her back out” enough that she finally backed off.

Gruff claimed to have done it more for Gallus’s sake than Spark’s and left again as quickly as he’d appeared. But the act still left its mark and slowly their views towards each other started to change. And the more the harassment grew over time, the more Spark counted on Gruff as a valuable ally. By the time Spike’s egg had entered the picture, Spark saw Gruff as “the best supporter we have” and at one point admitted he didn’t know where he and Gwen would be if it hadn’t been for Gruff assisting where he could.

Reviewing a few of these comments to himself, Gallus heaved a sigh and briefly glanced up at Gruff lying there before him. “You know, in the end, you left a mark on Spark,” he mumbled aloud as if the other griffon could hear. “I…don’t know where you two were at when…the worst happened. But just before that point…Spark started to think highly of you. And of course Gwen always respected you from the start. They saw something in you…something I’m starting to think I’ve been missing.” He bowed his head, suddenly ashamed. “Or maybe something I haven’t been allowing myself to see, so used to thinking of you in a…negative light that I couldn’t stop.” He ran his talons over the edges of the logbook’s cover, mulling it over in his head. “You weren’t wrong before. I don’t like some of things you did in this whole mess…at least not where it concerned me. That’s something I still think you could’ve…should’ve…done better. But…maybe I’ve also been unfair by not considering just how…difficult…the situation you were put into was.”

Gallus let the logbook fall into his lap at this point and leaned back in the chair, letting his head thump against the wall behind it. “I guess what I’m trying to say here is…I still owe you. A lot.” He snorted to himself. “Heck, let’s be honest here—you saved my life…maybe even more than once, depending on how you look at it. And if there’s one thing you’ve proven to me through all of this, even if it wasn’t obvious…you were still looking out for me. And…I still should thank you for that much.” He paused for a second then made a bittersweet snicker as he reached up to massage his brow, realizing the state of the griffon he was saying this to. “Not that I’m ever going to tell you that while you’re awake, obviously.”

“…joke’s on you then, boy.”

Gallus froze at the sudden sound of the faint, but still audible, voice and bolted upright to see Gruff’s eyes open, blinking away sleep as they slowly took in his surroundings.

Gallus overlooked Gruff effectively eavesdropping in his palatable relief. “Gruff!” he cried as he leapt from the chair and to the griffon’s side while the guard, equally surprised at this unexpected event, swiftly turned around and poked his head out the door so to call for a doctor. He took in the elderly griffon’s state, noting he looked like he’d only just woken up. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Like I got beaned in the back of the head by a steel bar,” Gruff replied in a grumble, wincing to himself at the ache of his still bandaged head. His limbs stirred as if wanting to rub at the source of the pain, but they seemed too stiff to do so after lying unused for as long as they had. “…what happened, exactly?”

“You’ve been in a small coma, Mr. Gruff,” came the reply as the doctor from the previous night strolled purposefully into the room. He gently waved Gallus aside so to have room to examine Gruff. “We were wondering when you’d come out of it again.”

“A coma?” Gruff repeated, his brow furrowing. He went quiet for a moment, allowing the doctor to calmly check him over. Gallus suspected Gruff’s still-groggy brain was trying to recall the relevant information on what a coma entailed. “…how long was I out, then?”

“About a day,” Gallus provided for him.

“A day?” Gruff snapped, jolting as if to pick himself up, but not only did the doctor swiftly stop him, Gruff only got part way before his stiff body prevented him from continuing anyway.

“We brought you here for treatment,” the doctor patiently explained once he’d assured Gruff wasn’t going to try that again. “Now that you’re awake and conscious, I’m confident you’re going to recover fine, but to be sure—what’s the last thing you remember before waking up now?”

“Uhh,” Gruff groaned as he attempted to reassemble his memories. “I was…with all those pony guards, moving stuff from the airships into that caged off area of theirs.”

“The evidence locker,” Gallus realized.

“Good, that suggests you’ve suffered fairly minimal memory loss since you were attacked not long thereafter, or so I’ve been told,” the doctor noted approvingly.

“Attacked?” Gruff repeated, initially looking like he didn’t understand, but then his eyes went wide as it suddenly all came back to him. “Attacked!” He grabbed the doctor’s hoof. “There was this pony intruder, wearing all-black and hiding in the shadows, doing something with the locker thing! I think they were trying to sabotage it! They must be involved in this whole—”

“Gruff, Gruff!” Gallus intervened here, cutting him short with a grin. “It’s okay! We’ve already nabbed her!”

“You have?” Gruff said, twisting his head to look at the younger griffon with his good eye. His brow then furrowed. “Wait, her? Just how much have I missed here?”

Gallus’s grin turned smug as he realized he’d have the honor of filling Gruff in. “Quite a bit actually.”

While Gallus filled Gruff in, the doctor continued with his brief examination. Fortunately, his diagnosis was positive all across the board, showing Gruff was recovering nicely from his injuries and there shouldn’t be any additional complications. That said, the doctor wanted Gruff to stay put for observation at least until morning and to continue to take it easy in the meantime. Gruff, still somewhat groggy from coming out of his coma and overall low on energy, did not object so the doctor left them to it. Not long thereafter, Gallus had nearly finished getting Gruff back up to speed.

“So our guy was Kibitz?” Gruff repeated incredulously, trying to process the new information as quickly as it was given to him, “That stuffy bureaucrat with the mustache?” When Gallus nodded, he huffed to himself. “I mean I’d thought there was something…off about that guy from the moment I met him, but…I certainly didn’t think he’d actually be the guy.”

“No one did,” Gallus assured, “Not until all the right clues finally fell into place. I’m thinking that was the whole point though—he’d made sure he was in a position where he could hide in plain sight.” He let out his breath in a slow whoosh, reflecting on how close a call it’d been. “It’d nearly worked too.”

“Nearly,” Gruff repeated and allowed himself a smirk, “which just wasn’t quite nearly enough for him now was it?”

Gallus had to chuckle a little. “No, I suppose it wasn’t.” His gaze turned distant as he reviewed all the chaos he’d been put through the past several days. “Honestly, though? I’m more just glad it’s over now.”

Gruff harrumphed at that. “I’ve heard that before,” he grumbled, clearly still wary about jinxing it. Gallus, in fact, wondered if he should knock on wood as a precaution. But before he could finish that line of thought, he noticed Gruff visibly sadden. “And it’s a bittersweet victory either way. Kibitz and his sort still got part of what they wanted.”

Gallus felt his heart chill at that thought and reflexively pulled the logbook close to his chest. “I’m well aware of what’s been lost in all this, Gruff,” he mumbled.

Gruff took notice of the logbook for the first time at this point. “What is that you’ve got there anyway?” he asked.

Gallus held it out for him to examine then take when Gruff reached out to grab it. “A sort of journal Spark had kept before…things went bad. They found it in Kibitz’s office along with other documentation he still had of his schemes.” He watched Gruff flip through it briefly without comment. “It’s actually been kind of enlightening to read, seeing Spark’s views on how it all went down.” He paused then added, “He appreciated what you tried to do to help, by the way.”

Gruff scowled at that and, as if it had soured the logbook’s appeal to him, he hastily stuffed it back into Gallus’s talons. “How foolish of him then,” he grumbled bitterly, no doubt thinking about how much had been in vain anyway.

Gallus felt his grip on the logbook tighten. “You did more for them than you think,” he argued back, suddenly unwilling to let Gruff berate himself. He took a deep breath and decided to address what had originally brought him down here. “You know, I meant what I said earlier.”

“Oh, we’re actually going to acknowledge that happened then?” Gruff replied, a faint teasing tone underlying it. “I’d figured you were just going to pretend I’d hallucinated it or something.”

Gallus didn’t share in his humor. “Gruff, I didn’t want to admit it before. But…if it weren’t for you, I don’t think we would’ve gotten to this point.” He lowered his gaze but remained resolute. “Regardless of where you and I stand on each other…I need to give you credit where credit’s due. You played an important role in getting this victory too.”

Gruff’s gaze turned sad again. “It’s not the one I wanted though,” he mumbled. He averted his gaze so to hide the shame clearly still weighing heavily upon him. “So you keep that credit. You deserve it more anyway. You’re the one that got Kibitz in the end after all.”

A long and somber silence fell after that.

“What happens now that we got Kibitz anyway?” Gruff then asked, changing their focus.

Gallus blinked and shrugged, figuring that was obvious. “He’ll stand trial for his crimes, first and foremost.”

“What, did you miss or something?” Realizing Gallus wasn’t following, Gruff looked back at him again. “You’d said you had him at the end of a crossbow, right?”

Gallus stared at him blankly before his brow narrowed slightly. “I didn’t take the shot, Gruff.”

“What? Why not?” Gruff seemed to genuinely not understand why. “He certainly would’ve!”

Or more likely had someone else do it for him, Gallus thought bitterly to himself but he still understood what Gruff was getting at. “I didn’t want to be like him, a creature that selfishly hurts others. It only would’ve proved his twisted ideas of what I was to him, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction, that final victory, not when he’d already had so many others.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he wasn’t around anymore to care,” Gruff pointed out.

“I’d care, though,” Gallus persisted before moving to curtail any further argument on the matter. “Look, this is just…the sort of creature I want to be.” A moment later, grinning faintly as inspiration struck, he added, “I guess you could say it’s part of my code.”

“…code?”

“Dragon code—it’s something Spike was explaining to me.”

Gruff went quiet for a moment, studying Gallus closely. Seeing he wasn’t going to sway on the matter, he started to relent, but his gaze nonetheless saddened considerably. “But…what of your parents? You can’t avenge their deaths this way.”

“They didn’t want vengeance,” Gallus corrected, leveling his gaze on Gruff. “All they wanted was the same thing I always wanted.” He gave the logbook a squeeze. “A family.” He inhaled sharply, ignoring how much his throat shuddered doing it. “But that the likes of Kibitz wouldn’t let them have it is his problem to deal with now.”

They fell quiet for another long moment.

“At least you still have your brother,” Gruff then finally noted.

That made Gallus wish he had Spike here with them, suddenly wanting to hold the little dragon close. “Yeah,” he mumbled, making a sad but hopeful grin, “I do.” He wiped the wetness that had started to form in his eyes. “And you helped ensure we got that much.”

Gruff, for a moment, didn’t react. But slowly a faint smile appeared on his beak as he accepted that one victory. “I owe you both so much more than that, though,” he admitted with uncharacteristic openness.

Gallus looked down at the logbook again. “I don’t know if they would agree with you on that, Gruff,” he replied slowly, and to prove it, again offered the logbook to Gruff.

Gruff looked at it reluctantly, not really wanting to accept. But, finally deciding to at least entertain the thought, he took the book from the younger griffon once again. He held it before him in silence for a moment, balancing it on his chest and seemingly pondering how to proceed. “I’ll get this back to you as soon as I’m done with it,” he vowed solemnly.

Gallus however simply grinned and patted him on the foreleg as he rose to depart. “That’s okay,” he assured as he did so, feeling Gruff would need the privacy. It was getting late anyway. “You take all the time you need with it.”

He did still consider Gruff’s words while lying in bed and waiting for sleep to take him though. The old coot wasn’t wrong, after all—Gallus had a creature that’d ensured the murders of his parents dead to rights…but he’d passed up the chance. And he found buried somewhere deep in his core was a fiery and bloodthirsty part of him that wished he’d fired that crossbow anyway…and then some. There was indeed a passionate want to see that stallion dead within him. But when replaying the confrontation back in his head, Gallus also knew this didn’t change anything—he still would’ve passed up the shot anyway. For all of the same reasons he’d told Gruff, but also because he knew that, no matter how much it felt like it should’ve…doing so wouldn’t have brought his parents back. It’d only contributed to the horrifyingly vast amount of blood that’d already been shed throughout this whole mess.

And so Gallus fell asleep thinking, with confidence and reassurance, that the world didn’t need him shedding just a little more…and thus was all a little better for it.
> Lingering Matters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day that followed passed mostly without much event, which felt very relieving but also somewhat bizarre. Considering most of the week was spent constantly jumping from one alarming event to another, getting actual and consistent calm for such a prolonged length of time actually felt out of place…like Gallus had actually started to accept living in constant danger as the new norm. An idea he very much did not like, so he was still glad the trend was finally broken regardless. Especially as it meant everyone was more likely to get through the day unhurt and, most importantly, alive.

For himself and Spike, their day remained fairly chill. Since Twilight deemed the threat sufficiently passed for them to have their meals without fear of tampering, the first thing they did was to head down to the palace kitchens and have a big breakfast of…pretty much whatever they wanted. It seemed like a good way to celebrate recent victories. But they probably overdid it because, once finished, they had to drag themselves back to their room and chill for a bit so to let things digest.

After that they went down to the medical wing to visit Gruff, Spike wanting to see him now that he was out of his coma. To that end, Gruff was visibly continuing to improve, even sitting up in bed and, according to the doctors, now able to go from his bed to the bathroom under his own power, albeit at an unsteady and cautious pace. But Gruff admitted that he still got lightheaded easily if he moved too fast and figured he probably wouldn’t be leaving the medical wing for a little longer still.

“Which is annoying,” he grumbled, “because I’m getting real tired of staring at that wall in front of me.”

“Maybe we should get you a poster to look at instead,” Gallus quipped.

“You do that,” Gruff huffed back.

In any case, Spike used the chance to speak a little with Gruff. Unlike Gallus last night, he didn’t say much other than express relief that Gruff would be all right and thank him for his help sorting everything out. Also unlike last night, Gruff didn’t really dispute it and accepted the credit Spike assigned him without much protest, though he still waved it aside as if it didn’t really matter to him. What was more important to him was that the two of them survived the mess unhurt.

“After all,” he commented, “so long as someone from your family still lives, those against you have not won.”

Gallus had to give him a teasing look at that. “You didn’t say that last night.”

Gruff returned it with annoyance. “The topic never reached a point where I needed to,” he countered obtusely, even though they both knew full well that it had.

Gruff also returned the logbook to them, claiming he’d gotten what he needed to out of it, but was less than forthcoming on what his reaction to it had been. He wouldn’t even confirm whether or not he’d read it all the way through, though Gallus was fairly certain he had. Particularly when Gallus repeated to Spike some of the more flattering things Spark had written about Gruff and noticed the elder avert his eyes, looking awkward but stirred by the reminder.

In any case, they were eventually interrupted by the doctor coming in to do a checkup. So, satisfied that Gruff was healing up nicely, Gallus and Spike left him to it and started back for their room. They were debating whether or not their stomachs had emptied enough to consider getting lunch when Raven Inkwell caught up with them wishing to inform that a new arrest had taken place, that of a lowly Royal Guard who, it’d been learned, Kibitz had roped into running tasks relevant to his conspiracy for him.

“In fact,” the unicorn went on to explain as they walked, “We have reason to believe this guard was the one who placed the bomb meant to take out that assassin.”

Spike’s eyebrows went up at that. “Whoa, really?”

“Yes, though the guard insists he had no idea it was a bomb when Kibitz told him to put it there,” Raven continued. “Actually, if the testimony he’s given is truthful, he knew Kibitz was up to something but none of the details. He apparently never suspected it was anything as extreme as it turned out to be.”

“That actually makes sense,” Gallus relented, “Since Kibitz clearly didn’t like to leave loose ends, he made sure this guard knew as little about what was actually going on as he could get away with.”

“That doesn’t exactly make him innocent though, does it?” Spike reasoned with a disappointed frown.

Raven shook her head, sharing Spike’s disappointment. “The guard’s fate ultimately depends on how much he cooperates and what other information he can give against Kibitz. But while I suspect the courts will probably go easier on him than the other conspirators, he was still knowingly complicit in the matter, so he’ll still face punishment for it and certainly be ousted from the Royal Guard regardless.”

Gallus shook his head. “Guy’s losing his career over this,” he mumbled. “Not fun.”

“No it isn’t,” Raven agreed. “But those are the consequences he chose nonetheless.”

Still, it was also good news for them because it meant there was even less chance of a conspirator still left free to otherwise try and continue the scheme. So, comforted by that reassurance, they continued on to their room. There, they decided they were indeed ready for lunch and requested some be sent to them, since that was now a luxury they had. While eating, they were then visited by Twilight who came bearing another delivery for Gallus from the School of Friendship…though this time nothing as fun as a care package from his friends.

Instead, it was a bundle of homework he’d need to get caught up on due to missing a whole week of school now. Not exactly something Gallus was super eager to do. But he at least found that, with the school now wrapping up its genealogy unit, the homework was mostly review and nothing too laborious. Plus, recent events had the upside of dramatically renewing Gallus’s passion for the subject, making it far easier to find the focus for completing the work.

Besides, Spike readily helped him get caught back up. “I won’t tell Twilight if you won’t,” he told Gallus with a wink.

Once the homework was out of the way, Spike realized suddenly that, with the worst of the conspiracy ended, he could give Gallus a proper tour of the palace. Not the routine and basic one given to the public, but an actual in-depth and behind the scenes tour of all that goes on within. As this included some of the less than flattering aspects the staff generally preferred stayed unknown, Gallus was more than game for it. So their afternoon was spent with Spike showing him all the various little hidden nooks and crannies not included on the official tours and various other points of interest as they passed them.

Towards the end though, they unexpectedly crossed paths with Ditzy, who was pleased to see them as there was a visitor wanting to meet with them. She then escorted them down to the security wing’s attached airship dock where they found none other than Dragon Lord Ember, here to take Diorite into her own custody and back to the Dragon Lands. Ember made light of this yet still managed to make abundantly clear she was not too happy with said dragon. It was also Gallus’s first chance to actually see Diorite in person, and noticed that while the dark grey with white speckling dragon kept shooting glares at Spike and Gallus in spite of being heavily bound for transport, even he was quite wary of Ember and clearly knew he was in deep, deep, trouble.

But Ember was less focused on Diorite, who she passed off to a group of hulking dragons serving as her escorts, and much more on Gallus and Spike. So once the initial round of greetings was over, she was unsurprisingly swift getting to her point. “You’ve tested that you’ve definitely got some dragon blood, right?” she asked specifically of Gallus.

“Yeah, the doctors did a whole bunch of tests a couple days back,” Gallus confirmed without elaborating, not really wanting to relive it.

Ember smirked. “I have a better way of checking,” she said before tossing Gallus her scepter. “Catch!”

Startled, Gallus grabbed the crystalline scepter without even thinking about it. The moment he did, the red gemstone nestled in its claw-like tip glowed and he felt a sense of vitality steadily grow within him. “…whoa,” he murmured, taken aback by the unexpected sensation.

“Pretty neat, right?” Ember said with a smirk, clearly expecting this and amused by Gallus’s reaction. “Now command Spike to do something.”

“Uhhh,” Gallus began, feeling put on the spot. Instinctively thrusting the scepter in Spike’s direction, he ended up uttering the first thing he thought of. “Spike, I command you to sucker punch Ditzy!”

“Aw what?” Spike bemoaned immediately. “Why was that the first—mmmm!” He cut himself short when a faint magical glow enclosed him.

Gallus wasn’t sure what exactly that glow was doing, but it apparently urged Spike into obeying by half-heartedly spinning around to swing a fist at Ditzy. Without even looking at him, Ditzy easily caught it with her hoof. Undeterred, Spike swung with his other fist and scored a light bop to the pegasus’s shoulder. It was hardly a punch at all, but as it still fulfilled the letter of the command, whatever magic was involved was satisfied and released its grip on Spike. Gallus likewise felt a foreign flare of…satisfaction, he supposed—he wasn’t sure how else to describe it—signifying his command had been completed.

Amazed, Gallus regarded the scepter with awe. “…cool!” he breathed, impressed.

“That’s the bloodstone scepter for you!” Ember said as her smirk turned pleased. “But I’m going to need that back now.”

And she snatched the scepter back out of his talons before Gallus even had the chance to react. “Whoa, wait!” he cried, making a blind fumble after it. The moment it left his grasp, he felt the power it granted slurp back out of him again, leaving him with a feeling that was…not so much empty, but its absence was still noticeable. “What…what was that?”

“The magic of the bloodstone scepter,” Ember explained with a shrug, like it didn’t need explaining. “It’s what gives a dragon lord their authority over other dragons.”

Gallus’s face screwed up as he started piecing it together. “So…wait…are you saying that, for a second there, I had the authority of a dragon lord?”

“Yup!” Ember confirmed, pleased he understood. “More importantly though, that proves you’ve got dragon blood, and no small amount of it too or else the scepter would’ve refused to transfer any power at all.”

“…dang,” Gallus muttered, turning it over in his head.

Ember nodded before continuing. “Though this also means that, technically? You fall under my domain as one of my subjects.”

That made Gallus go bug-eyed for a second. “…oh,” was all he could think to say to that. But then what else was he supposed to say once told he counted as a dragon citizen?

Spike and Ditzy both seemed taken aback by that reveal too. “So…what does that mean?” Ditzy asked after a moment when neither Gallus nor Spike did.

Ember just shrugged. “Really just they’ll both have to adhere to the laws and rules of the dragons if and when they ever apply or else they’ll have to answer to me. But if they keep staying anywhere but the Dragon Lands like they have been, I don’t think it’ll come up all that often.”

Gallus scratched the back of his head. “Well, I guess it hasn’t yet to date, so…” he mumbled.

But then Spike suddenly perked up. “Actually, it might’ve already!” he declared as he looked to the griffon. “Gallus, do you remember a time about, oh, maybe four or five years ago where you got this burning itching sensation all over your body?”

“…burning itch?” Gallus repeated with a hum, reviewing his memories. “Oh! Yes! Good Grover, I just about drove myself mad trying to scratch that relentless itch! It was like I had rolled around in a huge patch of poison ivy, except there was no rash, so no one had any clue why—” he abruptly stopped as his mind connected the dots. “Wait, you’re saying that was because of some dragon thing?”

“Yup, the call of the dragon lord,” Ember replied with an almost sagely nod, having caught on to what Spike was asking. But she dismissively waved it aside. “But you can blame my father for that one.”

“Wait, but wasn’t that so to gather every dragon for the Gauntlet of Fire?” Ditzy inquired, also understanding, “so to have them compete and see who’d be the next dragon lord?”

Gallus suddenly recalled this from his friendship lessons. “Wait, are we saying I had the chance to compete for the title of dragon lord?”

“If you wanted to,” Ember confirmed, “Awesome, right?”

Gallus, however, just waved his talons around awkwardly and felt like he’d completely missed out without even knowing it.

Ditzy gave him a reassuring pat with her wing. “No offense, Gallus, but it’s probably for the better you missed it,” she said. “Since you would’ve been going up against molted and full-blood dragons, I kind of doubt you would’ve stood much of a chance.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Ember retorted. “I mean Spike did it, didn’t he?”

“I did,” Spike confirmed with a proud nod.

So Gallus went back to sulking about how he’d missed out anyway.

In any case, as Ember geared up to leave with her dragon escorts, Diorite in tow, she promised that she wouldn’t allow actions such as Diorite’s to ever happen again, and any dragon who tried would live to regret it. And she said it with such conviction that it was hard to doubt even a single word of that vow.

“Determined, isn’t she?” Ditzy commented after the dragons had flown off. “But you know? I have absolute confidence that she’ll totally do it, too.”

“…Yeah,” Gallus was forced to agree with a small grin. “She just might.”

“Anyway,” Ditzy said, also turning to leave, “I’ll let you two get back to it now. I’ve got my own matters I need to get to.”

“Like what?” Spike couldn’t help but ask.

“Just something Twilight and I have been workshopping as we think ahead to what comes next.” Ditzy assured vaguely, giving them a wink with her uncovered eye. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough though.”





And she wasn’t entirely wrong. The rest of the evening was passed with them killing time back in their room, but first thing the following morning, they were requested to meet with Twilight in the usual dining room. There they found the alicorn princess, Raven, and also Gruff. The griffon still had his head wrapped in bandages and, despite being fully seated, was leaning on a generic looking cane (Gallus assumed it’d been loaned to him by the medical staff). But he was upright, alert, and clearly capable of moving on his own which spoke volumes about his continuing recovery.

“Good to see you can join us, Gruff!” Spike brightly commented to him as they all sat down to begin.

Gruff just shrugged though. “Still not good enough for those dang doctors though,” he grumbled, “or else they’d let me actually leave and not have to stay close by now.”

“I’ve actually been talking with the doctors about that,” Twilight assured as they were served breakfast by the kitchen staff. “And they’ve agreed to let you move into one of the palace guest rooms to finish recovering in. I think you’ll find that a bit more comfortable for you.”

Gruff simply huffed and focused on taking a big gulp of the coffee he’d been served.

Gallus, meanwhile, noticed there was a face missing from the table. “So where’s Ditzy?” he asked as he began eating his breakfast of eggs and hash browns.

“Back in the field,” Raven replied, pausing eating her own meal so to reply. “With the immediate danger having passed for now, she and the princess agreed it was time for her to move on to other assignments that, regrettably, can’t be done from here in the palace. She sends her regards though.”

“That’s actually why I’ve asked you here though,” Twilight continued, taking control of the conversation. “We still have some…lingering matters…to discuss.” She then proceeded to pull out and open a folder of documents with her magic. “But since we’re already on the topic of Ditzy….” she extracted two of the documents and slid one apiece to Gallus and Gruff. “…I’m going to have to ask that you two sign these.”

The two griffons reviewed the documents briefly. Gallus only needed to go through the first paragraph or so of legalese to understand what it was. “This is a non-disclosure agreement,” he observed, phrasing it more as a statement than a question.

Twilight nodded. “Ditzy is still an undercover operative in most of her missions, but as you both know enough to ruin that cover, I’m afraid I need you to agree to never discuss that information with any unauthorized creatures unless instructed otherwise.”

Gallus regarded the document somewhat sadly, not because he was being required to sign it but because it was required for a mare as wonderful as Ditzy. “It almost seems a pity, considering everything she’s helped do for us,” he admitted with a sigh.

“I know,” Twilight agreed apologetically. “But unfortunately, it’s just something that comes with her line of work.”

“Glory’s overrated anyway,” Gruff muttered as he scanned the document’s text.

Despite it being very clear what it was for, he and Gallus both read through their documents with a fine tooth comb before signing anything. In the Griffon Kingdom, one learned fast not to sign any legally binding documents without first making absolutely sure there was no unsavory fine print trying to trick them into something they didn’t want to. And while it was very unlikely that Twilight would try such a stunt, it was still a good practice. Once they were satisfied though, they both signed and passed them back to Twilight, who confirmed everything was in order before passing them over to Raven to handle from there.

“Another matter we need to address,” Twilight continued, “is determining to whom Spark and Gwen’s house and other property should now fall to.” She glanced at Spike and Gallus. “Since you two would obviously be the next of kin as their children, do you accept control of the property and to make decisions on its behalf?”

Caught off guard by that sudden obligation, the two exchanged hesitant glances before looking back at Twilight. “…sure?” Gallus answered tentatively. “I suppose, from the legal perspective, we might as well just to keep some other griffon from trying to claim the land for themselves.”

“I…don’t know what we’d do with an empty house though,” Spike added uneasily.

“Live in it, I’d think,” Gruff groused in response.

Gallus gave him a glare. “It’s not that simple, Gruff,” he retorted back. “We can’t just…pack up our bags and move there. What if…” he hesitated, licking the edge of his beak uncomfortably, “…what if we’re not comfortable doing that?”

Gruff blinked then quietly averted his gaze, as if conceding the point. Twilight took that moment to wave the argument aside anyway.

“All I’m asking is to formalize who’s controlling the property,” she assured. “You don’t have to decide what to do with it right now. It’s…not exactly going anywhere, after all.”

Gallus heaved a heavy sigh as he thought of another complication. “We probably can’t just give it up anyway,” he admitted as he ran a paw through his crest. “Not when Gwen’s still buried there.”

“As it happens, I might already have an idea about that,” Twilight said cryptically, “but I haven’t had the chance to sort anything out. I still need to discuss it with Lord Gestal and, if willing, Gruff as well.” Gruff perked up in surprise at that, not seeing how he fit into it, but Twilight didn’t elaborate. “We can discuss that more at a later date though. For now, Gallus and Spike, do you accept control of the property?”

Spike and Gallus glanced at each other again but ultimately it didn’t need further discussing. “We do, Twilight,” Spike opted to speak for them both.

Twilight nodded. “Then we’ll worry about the rest once you’ve had time to consider what should happen to it now.” She paused for a long moment as if bracing herself before continuing. “Now that we have that out of the way,” she went on, “and with Kibitz arrested and all indications strongly suggesting we’ve brought an end to his conspiracy and captured all of the key participants…I think it’s time we let life go back to normal for all of us.”

Gallus looked up from the breakfast he’d gone back to. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”

Twilight nodded. “Gallus, I think it’s time you went back to the School of Friendship. Starlight says your friends are missing you quite a lot, after all.”

Gallus lowered his fork. “And there’s a lot they still don’t know about all of this too,” he realized, seeing how his friends had kind of been left in the dark.

“And I’m assuming you want me getting back to my normal duties too, huh?” Spike concluded as he likewise paused eating his own pancake breakfast.

Again, Twilight nodded. “With Kibitz obviously gone from his post sooner than expected, I’m down an advisor at a critical time when I could really use the added help.” She motioned to Raven. “I’ve already promoted Raven to head advisor as Kibitz’s replacement. Do you feel you’re ready to take up your post as the assistant advisor full time?”

Spike considered it for a moment.  “Well…yeah, but…” he glanced mournfully towards Gallus. “…I guess I thought we’d have more free time to…you know…”

Gallus however just shrugged in numb acceptance. “Life still needs to move on,” he observed lifelessly.

“All too true, sadly,” Twilight agreed. “I wish, for your sakes, I could put it off for a little longer. But I’ve already kept the palace effectively closed and shut down for the better part of a week now, disrupting critical and national-level operations that I can’t really justify delaying any longer than I have to. So, to that end, we’re already working to end the lockdown and reopen for more normal operations. And if we’re doing that…”

“…no point delaying the rest,” Gruff finished. He nodded his head in Twilight’s direction. “Guess that means you’ll also kick me out as soon as the doctors allow it, hmm?”

“I’m not going to force any of you to leave,” Twilight reassured. She then pointed a hoof at Gruff. “Though don’t lie, Gruff, we all know you want to leave.”

“I do,” Gruff conceded with a smug grin.

“But…” Twilight then continued more for Spike and Gallus’s benefit, “…you all have lives beyond this palace that you should be getting back to. Like Gallus said…life still needs to move on.”

Gallus took a deep breath then. “I assume you’re sorting out the needed transportation?” he asked.

“We’re arranging for guards to escort you by carriage back to the school,” Raven explained. “We can have you there as early as this afternoon…if you like.”

Gallus opted not to reply, going back to eating his breakfast with much less enthusiasm than before.

Spike, too, worked at eating his breakfast for a few thoughtful moments before finally speaking again. “Twilight? Any chance we can put off me going back on duty for just one more day?” he asked. He looked over at Gallus. “I’d…like to accompany Gallus back to the school so to…you know…see him off properly.”

Twilight grinned warmly. “Of course,” she granted without much fuss, “Though I certainly hope this won’t be a goodbye forever for you two.”

“No,” Gallus immediately confirmed with a force that surprised even himself. “We’ll be staying in touch, however we can.”

“Oh, you can bet on that much,” Spike readily agreed in a tone that said it wasn’t open for debate.

“Besides, we’re all going to have to see each other again anyway,” Gruff added. He nodded at Twilight. “I’m sure you’re going to want us testifying at Kibitz’s trial, right?”

“If you’re all up for it,” Twilight replied. “I know what happened can be traumatizing to have to relive, particularly under the stress of cross-examination, so I’d understand if you don’t want to.”

“You’d have a much stronger case if we did,” Gruff countered.

“Yes, but we also have more than ample evidence even without your testimonies that I’m confident he or his cohorts won’t be allowed to walk either way,” Twilight said before waving it aside with her hoof. “In any case, it’s probably going to be another month at the earliest before Kibitz’s court proceedings can formally begin. You have until then to decide whether to testify or not. What we probably shouldn’t put off, however, is how we want to handle those court proceedings.”

“What do you mean, Twilight?” Spike asked, not following.

Twilight sighed. “I’ve been debating whether or not we should go public with what happened,” she summed up simply.

This brought a momentary silence to the table. Even Raven, despite surely knowing this already, somberly paused what she was doing.

“Go public?” Spike finally repeated. “As in…reveal everything that happened with Kibitz?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “And, by consequence, reveal that you two are hybrids.”

Gruff thumped a fist on the table. “Absolutely not!” he declared. “We just got these two free of one group of haters, we are not going open the door for more to take their place!”

“A danger I am NOT ignorant on, Gruff,” Twilight snapped back. “I know there could be many other anti-hybrid supporters out there which going public could expose us to their antagonism.” She took a deep breath before continuing a little more calmly. “But at the same time, hiding all of this will do nothing to normalize it in the eyes of the public or teach them that it’s something they shouldn’t need to fear. Besides, after everything you’ve all suffered, you deserve that chance to live your lives as equals, regardless of who or what you are. Hiding that would only mean pretending to be something you’re not. And I think I don’t have to tell you how unfair that would be.”

Though Gruff still glowered quite a bit, he couldn’t argue that point and backed down, the fight slowly draining out of him. “…it’ll be a media circus, though,” he still forewarned.

“He’s right,” Spike agreed, eyes flickering as he thought ahead to what such a future entailed. “Until the public grows bored of the story, it’ll be hard to ever get a moment of peace.”

“I would of course pull as many strings as I’m legally allowed to try and keep the media off your backs,” Twilight promised.

Gallus, however, was thinking of other things. “It’s not so much the media I’m worried about,” he admitted. In all the hubbub of putting down the conspiracy, he hadn’t really thought about it before…but now he started to fear how his peers would react to learning he was a hybrid. What if they weren’t willing to accept that?

Raven seemed to be thinking similarly. “Public opinion is a very fickle but persistent beast,” she admitted aloud.

“And even more difficult to tame,” Twilight nonetheless agreed. “But you won’t ever tame it at all if you don’t still try.” She then took another deep breath and changed their focus slightly. “Besides, by going public, we would still be throwing the likes of Kibitz under the carriage, making it clear to the public just how monstrous his actions were, encourage them to dislike it, and send a clear signal to both Equestria and beyond that this princess will not tolerate such behavior, as punishments will be both swift and uncompromising, enough to hopefully get anyone to think twice before taking up Kibitz’s cause.”

“And by trying to win this fight, we can help make sure no one else has to suffer what you all have,” Raven added, jumping in support of Twilight’s argument. “And considering that Equestria has a lot of influence even in lands beyond…”

“That still doesn’t mean getting there will be easy,” Gruff stressed. “Trust me. I know first paw some of the things Gwen and Spark had to face. You don’t.”

“Which is why I’m discussing the subject with all of you,” Twilight said, “Because obviously you’re the ones who would be affected the most. So you tell me—do you think going public is the right choice to make?”

Gruff frowned and looked in Gallus and Spike’s direction, silently opting for them to make the call. So as was their habit now, Gallus and Spike exchanged glances, considering the matter. Gallus personally could see it both ways. On one side, he knew which would be the easiest. He and Spike had spent most of their lives with everyone already thinking they weren’t hybrids. It would be all too easy to just let them keep thinking that. But then on the other side, he knew Twilight was right. The only reasons he’d want to keep quiet was out of fear and, in a way, cowardice, unwilling to take the risk of fighting for a better future. And he could see in Spike’s eyes that he was thinking much the same thing.

So Gallus faced Twilight resolutely. “Princess, if my parents hadn’t dared to resist public opinion, no matter how cruel, none of us would be sitting here discussing it. So I think you already know what our answer is.”

Gruff tensed and to Gallus’s surprise, he saw a glint of fear in his eyes. “But they didn’t win that fight,” he pointed out, “And they paid dearly for it.”

“They died for what they believed in,” Spike retorted with a maturity that defied his age. “And they died for us. I don’t intend to repay that by chickening out because the road will be tough. I owe them—we owe them—so much more than that.”

“Besides,” Gallus added, wrapping a wing around Spike, “what good is having a family, if you’re just going to hide it away?” He pulled Spike close, shaking his head resolutely. “No, no more. This family is done hiding.”

Twilight studied them for a moment longer to make sure they were certain. She then turned her gaze to Gruff who, chastened, met her eye for a second before bowing his head and silently nodding in approval. Twilight nodded back and drew in a deep breath. “Then it’s settled,” she ruled. “We’ll make preparations to go public and, within reason, reveal the details of what happened.” She reshuffled her notes, mostly to give her hooves something to do. “When it comes time for the news to break, I’ll be sure to give you all ample warning, as well as assign any security measures for your own safety where deemed necessary, just in case.” She gave them a resolute look of her own. “Let’s make sure that, this time, history doesn’t repeat itself.”

Gallus grinned, nodding in approval. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.

“Good,” Twilight said. She set aside her documents. “That’s it then, that’s all I’d wanted to discuss, unless there was anything else somebody wanted to bring up?”

Some quiet glances were exchanged around the table but no one spoke up.

“Then I will make the necessary arrangements,” Twilight concluded and, gathering her things, rose from her chair. “Beyond that, I think it’s time we move to everything else we still need to do today. There’s a fair bit left, after all.”





Indeed, Gallus and Spike were kept busy the rest of the morning preparing to leave and packing their things. Gallus was surprised by how much he would be carrying out of the palace, considering he’d entered it with pretty much nothing but the hide on his back. It still wasn’t a considerable amount, as it all fit into the one bag he’d been courteously given (seeing he’d lost his original one back in the Griffon Kingdom) but it was still enough to surprise him. Of course, Twilight helped by giving him a few additional things to carry. Two of them were the photo album and the bloodline stone, as Twilight had gotten what she needed from them and thus returned both back to who she saw as the rightful owners. As both provided solid proof of his lineage to himself and anyone else asking, Gallus was rather glad to have them back and put them with Spark’s logbook in his bag.

She also gave him a third item, which was a sheaf of documents. Upon flipping through them, he realized that it was contact information for getting in direct contact either with the princess herself, trusted members of her staff (including both Raven and Ditzy), and even other members of Twilight’s family if necessary, should he ever need anything or again find himself in a dangerous situation. Gallus’s first thought was to hope he would never have to use it, not exactly eager to relive anything akin to recent events and would prefer a life of smooth sailing instead. But he also felt flattered to receive such support when before all this he’d felt…well, not alone, as he knew he had allies even then…but he certainly felt like he had more now than ever before.

It was a good feeling, he decided.

Not long after he and Spike had gotten some lunch, the carriage taking them to Ponyville was ready to go. Twilight, Raven, and even Gruff all came to see them off safely, though in differing ways. Raven was very professional and formal about it, but also genuine enough that Gallus knew she meant every word of her well-wishing, despite how bureaucratic it sounded. Meanwhile, Gruff’s farewells seesawed between feigned ambivalence and fretting about their continued safety—he still didn’t trust that everything really would go smoother from here on out, despite acknowledging he had little reason to assume that. So to that end, he made them promise that they would still keep an eye out for trouble. If any did arise, he managed to remain just shy of begging them not to hesitate seeking help if required. Spike and Gallus assured him repeatedly that they would until he finally let the subject drop.

Finally, Princess Twilight was more cordial and friendly with her farewells, reaffirming that she would handle sorting out the “complicated affairs” so they could focus on returning to normality, before again stating she would send word of any new developments as they came up. Then she, too, reminded them that she was always ready and willing to help if needed before saying her goodbyes. For Spike she was more casual, since Spike would be back by the end of the day. But since Gallus wouldn’t be, she was more heartfelt with him. It genuinely felt like a farewell, even though Gallus knew without a doubt he’d be seeing a whole lot more of Twilight now that they knew Spike was his brother.

Probably the part that surprised Gallus the most though was when, after expectedly giving Spike a friendly hug goodbye, she turned and gave Gallus one as well, catching the griffon off guard. He admitted to Spike after they were on their way that he didn’t know how to react to that…but it wasn’t exactly unwelcomed either.

In any case, goodbyes were made and soon they were in the carriage—notably less fancy than the one that took them to Gene Type nearly a week ago now—and flying away from Canterlot. This time the carriage was being pulled by a duo of friendly but quiet Royal Guards, but Gallus also noted that they were discreetly tailed by an additional pair of Night Guards, all no doubt to ensure nothing untoward happened to them during the trip. However the flight to Ponyville was uneventful, routine, and spent mostly in awkward silence. Gallus wanted to strike up a conversation with Spike, all too aware that he soon wouldn’t have as ready an opportunity to (the dragon having re-donned his advisor’s medallion serving as a particularly sharp reminder), but couldn’t organize his thoughts enough to get anything coherent out. Spike, it seemed, faced a similar problem.

Then at last, they were flying into Ponyville and closing in on the School of Friendship. It felt good seeing the familiar facades of the campus again. Part of Gallus couldn’t believe he was actually excited to be back at school, of course, but after spending such a turbulent week away, it just felt right…like things really were going back to normal. So leaving the carriage and guards at the entrance (where they would wait until Spike was ready to return to Canterlot), they made their way inside so to report in. With it now being a Saturday, the hallways were effectively empty as most were either out hanging with friends or in their dorms studying. This made it impossible to miss the scant few exceptions, so they saw Starlight Glimmer standing just outside her office well before she saw them.

And standing with her was Ditzy. But this time she wore no armor, wore no eyepatch, and carried no weapons. She simply wore a brown mail carrier uniform with a matching hat, squinting her uneven eyes at a bundle of letters she was haphazardly sorting through while Starlight patiently waited.

“Just a moment, I’ll get this,” the undercover mare assured as she fumbled with the letters. “It’s this one—no, this one!” She thrust a letter into Starlight’s hooves finally before making a nervous titter. “Sorry about that. It seems like no matter how many times I organize these letters, they always get mixed up again the moment I take my eyes off of them!”

“It’s okay, Ditzy,” Starlight assured, nodding to herself upon confirming she had the correct letter. “Just as long as they still get where they need to, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ditzy replied, making an exaggerated salute. “But I’ll leave you to it and head on out of here.” She started down the hallway.

“Exit’s the other way, Ditzy,” Starlight patiently reminded in a manner suggesting this was common.

“I knew that!” Ditzy said as she promptly about-faced and started up the hallway instead, walking past Gallus and Spike as they arrived. “Hiya Spike and Gallus!” she greeted in her usual cheery manner. She also slipped them a sly wink as she passed.

Gallus responded with a numb wave, not daring to reply for fear he might blurt out something about this pegasus’s real nature that he shouldn’t. He turned to watch her trot down the hallway with a casual bounce to her step, amazed at how different she seemed now and not at all like the butt-kicking Night Guard he knew she really was. It also suddenly struck him that her being here the same time he and Spike arrived probably wasn’t an accident—no doubt she’d be keeping a discreet eye on him while he attended the school. That would take some getting used to.

“Hey you two,” Starlight then greeted, pulling Gallus’s attention back to her. “Nice to see you’re both safe. I know you’ve had…shall we say…a rough week?”

“So to speak,” Spike replied with a wry smile. “Did…Twilight fill you in?”

“Yes, she filled me in on the basics this morning,” Starlight assured. She eyed the two curiously for a second. “So I understand you two are really…brothers?”

“Amazingly, yes,” Spike replied with a humble shrug.

“What, can’t you see the resemblance?” Gallus quipped.

He and Spike then playfully hooked arms, pulled each other close, and shot Starlight a goofy grin apiece.

The unicorn rolled her eyes in amusement. “I see you both share the same smart-aleck gene, at least,” she responded before turning more thoughtful. “Seriously though, it’s good to see you both all right. When we heard about what happened with Gene Type, it got a lot of creatures really concerned about you two,” She nodded at Gallus, “Your friends especially. So they’ll be thrilled to see you back no worse for wear.”

“Speaking of those ragamuffins, where are they currently?” Gallus asked, suddenly eager to reunite with the others.

“Well, it is a Saturday,” Starlight hummed aloud, “so if they aren’t in their dorms, they’re probably chilling around here somewhere. I’d start with the student lounge, personally.”

So that was the first place Spike and Gallus checked. Arriving at the room’s double doors and finding them closed, Gallus knocked first before entering, just to be sure he wouldn’t be walking in unwanted. “Hello?” he called, “Anybody in there?”

There was no verbal response, but he did hear shuffling movement, suggesting someone was in there. When no objections came about them entering though, he shrugged to Spike and pushed open the door. The room beyond was surprisingly dark with the lights off and all of the drapes pulled closed over the windows. Gallus squinted so to try and determine a clear reason, but the light streaming in from the open door behind him was throwing off his night vision, so he instead turned in search of something to restore the lights.

But before he could, the lights relit on their own. “SURPRISE!” cried Gallus’s five friends in the same moment, suddenly jumping out of their hiding spots. “WELCOME BACK!”

“Oh!” Gallus declared, pulling back a step in delighted surprise. “Guys! Hey! I wasn’t expecting—oof!” He was interrupted when Silverstream abruptly tackled him, wrapping her forelegs around him in an exuberant hug. “Yeah, hi, Sil, good to see you—” Sandbar ran in so to hug him too. “And you too, Sandbar, so—” Ocellus more gently joined in as well. “All right, all right, everybody go ahead and get it out of your—” Yona, one step ahead of him, wrapped her legs around the whole group and squeezed hard enough that she lifted them from the floor. As Smolder strolled up too, Gallus met her gaze. “You gonna get in on this too?” he wheezed under all the bodies wrapped around him.

“Nah, I think you’re already getting strangled plenty,” Smolder teased and chose to give him a loving noogie instead. “Glad to see you back, dude.”

“So what am I then?” Spike, who’d been left standing to one side, sassed playfully. “Chopped lentils?”

“Nah, nah, we’re happy to see you too, dude,” Smolder assured, giving him a noogie too.

“Seriously!” Silverstream squeaked out, tightening her squeeze of Gallus who grunted in response. “We were so worried about you two!”

“Well we’re okay, so you all can chill anytime now,” Gallus managed to gasp out under all the hugging he was still enduring.

“Yeah, I think Gallus would like to be able to breathe again guys,” Spike advised with a smirk while Smolder stifled a snicker.

Getting the hint, the group finally released Gallus. “Sorry,” Sandbar apologized as they dispersed. “We’re just excited to see you again!”

“So when Headmare Starlight alerted us that you’d be back today, we wanted to be sure to give you a warm welcome,” Ocellus added before motioning to how the room had been lightly decorated for an impromptu party. “Hence all of this, so to celebrate your safe return.”

“We even made a cake!” Silverstream added before darting off and bringing over a small cake so Gallus could see. Congrats on not dying! was written atop its vanilla icing.

“Let me guess,” Gallus remarked, raising an eyebrow at the word choice. “This was Smolder’s idea.”

“Nope! It was all my idea, words and all!” Silverstream beamed, ignorant of the peculiarity of the cake’s message.

“Ah, well, that would’ve been my second guess,” Gallus assured in stride.

That spurred a few chuckles from the group.

“What did happen to Spike and Gallus out there, though?” Yona then asked as Silverstream set aside the cake. “Headmare say Doctor Gene Type tried to attack you and Princess Twilight locked down castle to protect you, but did not tell details.”

Gallus and Spike exchanged glances. “Uh…it’s kind of a long story,” Spike admitted sheepishly, knowing how much of a shock it would be.

“Well, we don’t have anywhere else to be, so you can start filling us in any time now,” Smolder pointed out.

Gallus took a deep breath. “All right then,” he said slowly as he reached into his bag and pulled out the photo album, Spark’s logbook, and the bloodline tablet. “But trust me—you’re all going to want to sit down for this.”

So they did and the story was explained from the start, Gallus and Spike regularly alternating as they went along while the rest sat with rapt attention. They mostly left out Ditzy’s involvement, instead only vaguely referring to her as “the Night Guard,” but everything else was openly discussed. They also showed the album’s photographs and demonstrated the bloodline tablet lighting up at their touch so to prove the tale’s validity. The further they got into it, the more shocked the others grew. By the end, they were all wide-eyed with more than one jaw hanging open.

“…so once we had that all sorted out,” Gallus finally concluded, “Twilight made arrangements for me to come back to the school, and…I guess that brings us to here and now.” He paused to study the expressions of his friends, trying to gauge what they were thinking, but the only clear thing he got was their universal shock. He swallowed uncomfortably. “So…any questions?”

There was a beat before Smolder raised her paw as if they were in class. “So you’re legit half dragon?” she asked, pointing a claw at Gallus.

Gallus sheepishly rubbed the back of his head for a moment. “…Yeah,” he admitted slowly, concerned she was about to take issue with it.

Spike didn’t seem as worried. “He is as half-dragon as I am,” he added as a teasing quip.

“Huh.” Smolder went quiet for another moment before giving her thigh an exuberant slap and jabbing a claw at Gallus. “I KNEW there was a reason I liked you!”

And just like that, the tension was broken. Gallus burst out laughing at Smolder’s response with everybody else gleefully joining in.

“Oh, it’s wonderful you two found out you’re family!” Silverstream gushed with glee, “How heartwarming!”

“And it’s so cool that you’re half-dragon, Gallus!” Sandbar said before remembering Spike and added, “and that you’re half-griffon, Spike! You’d never guess just from looking at either of you!”

Spike snorted in amusement. “How do you think we felt when we found out?” he replied with a chuckle.

“It’s fascinating, though!” Ocellus remarked, her eyes alight with intellectual awe. “I’ve heard of research about hybridization of this level before, but to not only meet an actual example of it but also learn that they’re two of my own friends…”

“Does this mean you have abilities of dragons and griffons?” Yona asked the two newfound brothers.

Silverstream gasped loudly. “Ohmigosh, Gallus, can you breathe fire?!”

“Ah, no, unfortunately not,” Gallus admitted reluctantly.

“Well, he can produce a starter spark,” Spike clarified, “but…”

“Dude, you can produce a starter spark?” Smolder interrupted, her eyes alight with possibilities. “I mean, it’s still not firebreath, sure, but for a creature like you to be able to do even that much…” she shook her head in amazement. “You never told me you could do something like that!”

“I didn’t even know I could until, like, a couple of days ago, Smolder!” Gallus reminded with an exasperated chuckle. “A lot of this is things that are kind of not easy to see anyway, like the few scales hidden under my coat on my back, and…”

“You have scales?!” Smolder shouted, jumping to her feet in shock. Before Gallus could answer, she’d run up to him and was feeling along his backbone for said scales. It wasn’t long before she’d found them and was running her claw tips over them. “Oh my freaking gosh, you DO!”

And then all of Gallus’s other friends crowded around him so to get a chance to feel his hidden scales. Spike snickered as he watched Gallus stand there bearing it with increasingly strained patience. “I think it’s safe to say they have no issue with us being hybrids, Gallus,” he noted in approval.

Despite the unwanted attention, Gallus couldn’t help but grin at that reassuring thought. “Yeah, it does,” he agreed with pleased relief before finally swatting away the probing limbs. “All right, all right, guys, that’s enough of that. Now! That cake you made is looking pretty tasty, so how about we finally start cutting into that, hmm?”





They then spent most of the next few hours catching up after that. A lot of it was spent quizzing Spike and Gallus about everything being a hybrid entailed with some of the expectations of his friends being so out there that Gallus almost had to laugh at how mundane the actual reality felt by comparison. But in the end, he was just relieved his friends still accepted him like nothing had changed. It made him wish aloud that the rest of the world was more willing to do that, leading to them all voicing several shared frustrations on the subject.

And the less said about Kibitz the better, because it was quickly found that if any of them got going about him…it was sort of hard to stop.

Ultimately though, they wanted to focus on happier times. So whenever they weren’t discussing or celebrating their reunion, they were just hanging out as friends like normal. This was, after all, still a party, and so party-related activities were required, including the usual array of party games. But like with all parties, the fun had to end eventually, so once they’d exhausted all of the games and were starting to crash from all the sugar they’d unwisely ingested, things wound down to the point that they had to call it a day. Which meant it was also time for Spike to head back for Canterlot.

Gallus naturally escorted the dragon back out to the carriage still waiting for him at the school’s entrance. He’d invited his friends to come with, but they’d all opted to bid their farewells in the hallway rather than accompany the two down. Gallus suspected they’d come to the unspoken agreement that the two brothers needed this moment to themselves, not have others butting into it. A sentiment Gallus appreciated, but it also only made him all the more aware of how he was going to have to say goodbye, even just a temporary one, to the little brother he still felt he’d only just got. And suddenly he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

Spike notably hesitated too when it came time to step aboard the carriage, looking like he was searching for reasons to delay for as long as he could. “Well,” he remarked awkwardly, “Guess this is it.”

“I, uh, guess so,” Gallus replied back probably just as awkwardly. “But, you know, just until the next time we can meet up.”

“I know, I know,” Spike said, rolling his eyes at himself. He sighed, gazing out at Canterlot in the distance. “I’m just going back to the palace to…start working full time as the assistant advisor now.”

“Hey, now, don’t be like that,” Gallus objected with a reassuring grin. “You’ll do great at the assistant advisor thing. After all, it was your bureaucratic knowledge that helped bring down Kibitz.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Spike admitted with a small grin. He waved a paw at Gallus. “I’m sure you’ll likewise continue to do fine at the school too. You’ve got lots of creatures looking out for you here, after all.”

“So do you,” Gallus reminded, “Both here and in Canterlot.”

“Right,” Spike agreed with a nod. “I’m sure we’re both going to be fine.”

At least, that was what he said, but Spike still didn’t seem reassured. Wanting to do something to try and correct this, Gallus sought inspiration before abruptly realizing he still carried his bag, having never gotten around to taking it off his back earlier. “You know, I think it’d be a bit unfair if I hung onto all of these,” he told Spike as he slowly reached around and pulled out the logbook from it. “So…I think you should be the one to hold onto this.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t take that from you,” Spike immediately objected when Gallus tried to hand it to him. He frowned sadly. “Besides…I barely even appear in that at all.”

“Exactly,” Gallus resolutely replied. “I think you need the reminders it contains more than I do.”

Spike looked at him for a long moment as he processed what he was getting at then slowly accepted the logbook into his grasp. He held it close to his chest for a brief moment before taking in a deep breath. “In that case,” he said as he moved to put it into his own bag, “I have to insist you hold onto the bloodline stone and the photo album, because that’s what you need more.”

Gallus grinned faintly and nodded in agreement. “Fair enough.”

There was a beat of silence. Finally Spike gave up resisting and ran to Gallus, grabbing him in a longing hug. “I’ll write,” he promised as he tried not to tear up, “As soon as I can and as often as I can.”

“Me too,” Gallus replied, readily giving the little dragon a tight squeeze as he wrapped his wings around him. “And I’ll try and come up to Canterlot to visit as often as I can. Maybe I can get Starlight to allow me to fly up there on the weekends or something. Just…anything so I can still…” he closed his eyes, “…still see my bro as often as I can.”

He felt Spike nodding his head in agreement against his front. “Please do,” he replied.

Now Gallus was nodding in agreement. He took in a deep breath and, despite not wanting to, ended the hug and pulled Spike back a step. “Just remember…this isn’t a goodbye forever. Our lives might need us to be in different spots right now, but that’s just a temporary thing. That still won’t change anything about us, or make us less close.” He grinned encouragingly. “Not after everything we’ve been through. If Kibitz and the rest couldn’t keep us apart forever, little less will.” He gently took Spike by the shoulders. “Remember that…especially now.”

Spike kept nodding his head, so much so Gallus wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. “I will,” he promised softly then, drawing in a deep breath, he straightened his posture boldly as if bracing himself. “I will.”

Having thus adequately braced himself then, he finally proceeded to turn and step aboard the carriage. He was about to signal to the Royal Guards pulling it, who’d graciously been keeping quiet while the two talked, but then stopped and looked the griffon right in the eye. “Gallus,” he began seriously, genuinely, “I’m glad you’re my brother.”

Gallus hoped the shudder in the inhale he took at that wasn’t too obvious. “Me too,” he replied.

Spike nodded one last time as he sat down and finally signaled for the guards to depart. “We’ll meet up again soon,” he vowed as they prepared to take off. “And it will be soon.”

“It will,” Gallus confirmed, “I promise.”

Spike, despite everything, had a big grin on his face. “Until then, bro,” he said.

At that point, the carriage took off, rising up into the evening sky before looping back around to starting heading for Canterlot. Gallus remained standing outside and watching it leave until it finally grew too small for him to see any longer.
> Brothers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Gallus stirred a pot of soup upon it, he couldn’t help but wonder when the last time this stove had been used, considering how long the family home it inhabited had stood unoccupied following his parents’ deaths. But however long it’d been, the stove still worked wonderfully and helped to fill, even if just temporarily, the lonely house with a warmth and sense of purpose it’d lacked for long enough now. He couldn’t help but savor it, wondering if it had been like this back in his youth when it was his parents who were cooking meals. He’d like to think it was.

But the constant simmering sizzle within the kitchen was interrupted when a creature entered, not through the backdoor as expected but rather from the front. “You boys are making sure you won’t poison any of us with all that, right?”

Gallus and Spike looked up from their respective food preparation tasks and saw Gruff had walked into the room. “Gruff!” Spike declared with delight. “You made it!”

“Of course I did,” Gruff snarked in reply, like him not attending was ever an option. In retrospect, Gallus probably should’ve figured he’d be like that. “I may be old, but I’m not so old that I can’t still travel from there to here. It wasn’t that far a hike.”

“Maybe,” Gallus countered, “But you have your limits now. After all, the doctors did say…”

“The doctors can stuff it,” Gruff growled as he eased himself down at the table next to where Spike was slicing and dicing vegetables for the soup. He gave them both a very pointed look with his good eye. “I am not missing this.” The statement couldn’t be made any more definite than that.

Gallus nonetheless gave the elder griffon a look somewhere between frustration and concern. It’d been some months now since Gruff’s head injury and coma, but while those injuries had since healed, Gallus couldn’t help noticing how it left Gruff looking a little older, a little frailer. It all served as an unfortunate reminder that Gruff wasn’t so young anymore…and it may finally be catching up with him. All the same, he was inwardly pleased to see him here too. “Well…glad you could make it anyway,” he assured.

Gruff nodded at that and took a moment to look around. “Where are the others?” he asked.

“Princess Twilight and Ditzy are out back, setting things up,” Gallus replied, turning back to the soup he was stirring. “They’ll come get us when they’re ready to begin.”

Gruff nodded again, falling silent for a moment. “So…” he abruptly continued, changing the subject, “…it’s been a while since I’ve last seen you squabs, hasn’t it?”

“Long enough for the winter season to have come and gone, yes,” Gallus confirmed.

“We still saw each other at Kibitz’s trial, though,” Spike reminded gently.

Gruff huffed but begrudgingly nodded. “I suppose we did,” he relented, “albeit briefly.”

And Gallus saw the elder griffon’s point. “We kinda did have other things on our minds at the time too, didn’t we?” he agreed before reflecting briefly on the demanding trial that’d taken place back in mid-autumn.

Gruff huffed as he did likewise. “And you two were the lucky ones who only had to testify once, without much cross-examination,” he reminded. “For the rest of us, however, the court wasn’t so…gentle. If the defense had gotten their way, we definitely wouldn’t have won.” He stopped to pinch the bridge of his beak in frustration, recalling all he’d endured on the stand. “You know, so much of what that so-called lawyer of Kibitz’s said in that was a farce,” he muttered aloud. “He was grabbing for anything and everything that might overturn the case.”

“Though to no avail,” Spike reminded with a smug grin, stopping his slicing to put a reassuring paw on Gruff’s, “since it still didn’t end well for Kibitz.”

“The guy still refusing to testify one way or another on anything certainly didn’t help him,” Gallus added with a bit of smugness of his own. This had meant Kibitz’s testimonies were extremely limited, giving his lawyer little to work with. Said lawyer had tried using this to argue they were attempting to force Kibitz into incriminating himself, but it didn’t really help. “By the time it was wrapping up, you could tell they weren’t winning this.” And they didn’t—the jury still found Kibitz guilty of all charges and ruled he be imprisoned for fifty years, though at Kibitz’s age it might as well have been for life. But seeing Gruff still seemed bothered, he went on. “But I guess it wasn’t exactly fun getting there, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” Gruff confirmed then sighed, the frustration draining back out as quickly as it’d filled him, “Though I suppose it was all worth it so to see that…fiend…be put away finally. I just wish it happened years sooner.”

“Don’t we all,” Gallus mumbled to himself, staring into the soup he stirred.

“Anyway,” Gruff then continued, again changing the topic, “I imagine you’ve both been keeping busy since then.”

Spike laughed dryly at that. “Oh, you’d better believe working as a royal advisor keeps me busy,” he said. “Sometimes you have to get creative so to find any free time at all.”

There was a brief glimmer of concern on Gruff’s face at that. “You two still find time to visit each other though, right?”

“Every chance we can, Gruff,” Gallus assured him with a warm grin. “And we’ve been very lucky to get as many as we have.”

“And when we can’t do that,” Spike added, “we still keep in touch by letter.”

“Heck, it was barely a day after Spike went back to Canterlot that I got his first letter,” Gallus quipped. Not that he was complaining. All the letters he’d since gotten from Spike were reverently filed away into a box for safekeeping and later rereading, even the routine “How are you? Here’s what I’ve been up to” sort of letters. It wouldn’t surprise him if Spike had been doing the same.

Gruff nodded to all of this. “So you’re saying you’re both doing fine?” he asked, “Even after the princess went public with…everything?”

At that, a heavy silence fell. The first month after Kibitz’s arrest had gone almost like nothing had changed, with only their close friends and acquaintances knowing otherwise. But partway into the second month was when Twilight, as promised, sent forewarning about news of Kibitz’s crimes going public soon. The very next day, all of the major newspapers ran headlines concerning the matter. For Gallus, the local Ponyville Express didn’t mention him or Spike by name, at most referring to them vaguely as the “targeted victims,” but it hadn’t been hard for everybody in town to figure out the rest. This left the two caught in the public spotlight whether they’d wanted it or not…and for better or for worse since, also as predicted, not everyone took the news of them being hybrids as well as preferred.

“Well…” Gallus eventually began sardonically, “…no one’s tried to kill us yet.”

Gruff scowled at him. “That’s not funny, boy.”

“It’s true, though,” Gallus pressed with a shrug.

“It is,” Spike assured genuinely as he slid the vegetable he’d been slicing to one side and pulled out another. “The worst either of us faced has only been…verbal…that I know of.”

Gruff’s scowl didn’t fade though. “That you know of,” he repeated.

“If anything worse was ever attempted, we’ve been left unaware of it,” Gallus explained. “I suspect Ditzy has had a lot to do with it.” He had heard the odd rumbling about bad actors existing, but all being thwarted before anything serious could be attempted…as if a secret guardian angel was watching over him and Spike. One he strongly figured had uneven eyes, but whenever he had the rare chance to discreetly ask (as she usually kept her distance), Ditzy either denied everything or just told him not to worry about it.

“What makes you so sure?” Gruff asked, perhaps thinking similar things.

Gallus made a smug grin. “Because she once appeared out of nowhere to pull aside a critic trying to hound me, acting like she recognized him from her graduating class, and allowing me to slip away. I don’t know what she did after that, but that pony never bothered me again so it can’t have been a coincidence.” He then shrugged. “Whatever the case, Princess Twilight was right—making such a public example of Kibitz left its mark on the haters.”

“Yeah, most seem to recognize there’re lines they shouldn’t cross unless they want the same fates happening to them,” Spike added as he diced up vegetables. “So most they do is voice their disapproval and then…keep everything else to themselves.”

“Some even make clear that though they’re anti-hybrid, they still thought what Kibitz did was atrocious,” Gallus said. “A good example being Spoiled Rich.” Realizing Gruff probably didn’t know who that was though, he went on to clarify. “She’s this trophy wife of the local rich guy in Ponyville. Awful mare, hated her even before everything with Kibitz happened, and I’m sure she already hated me, since she’s loudly objected to the school enrolling foreigners ever since it opened its doors. But she still took the time to pull me aside…” Well, she’d more cornered him in the local marketplace but Gallus figured that detail wouldn’t reassure Gruff, “…and make clear that regardless of her thoughts about my mixed-breeding…” Of which she had many, but he again omitted those details, “…she thought Kibitz was very wrong to have tried to murder anyone and was glad he’d been punished for it.”

Gruff huffed again. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts then,” he grumbled sarcastically, still not happy about it. He breathed a throaty sigh and pinched his beak again. “And you?” he asked of Spike.

“Gruff, I spend most of my day in the palace, surrounded by guards,” Spike reminded pointedly. “Any pony who tries anything there isn’t getting very far.”

“Not unless any of those guards are in on it,” Gruff reminded.

“Of which there have been none,” Spike swiftly retorted.

“Gruff, we’ve got plenty of friends in our court this time,” Gallus said. In fact, all of his friends at the school, even some he knew only in passing, had made clear they would to throw down for him on this. Heck, of all of his friends, Silverstream had been the first to get into an actual fight with someone who’d said the wrong thing in her presence. “I know that doesn’t mean the danger is gone, but…it does mean it isn’t as bad as it’d been for…well…” he trailed off uncomfortably and suddenly became self-conscious about just where they were currently.

Gruff looked around at the kitchen, similarly thinking of the previous owners before their tragic deaths. “…you both ready for this?” he then inquired seriously, referring to why they’d gathered here in the first place.

Gallus and Spike exchanged glances. There wasn’t really a simple answer to that question. “We’re ready enough, at least,” Spike opted to reply while getting up to slide the vegetables he’d cut into the soup. Gallus silently showed his thanks by reflexively draping a wing over his shoulders. “That’ll just have to do.”

Gruff was quiet as he watched them for a moment. “I’m sure it’s the hardest for you two, having to live without Gwen and Spark at your sides,” he mumbled.

Gallus didn’t reply to that comment. Nor did Spike. He liked to think they’d both been remarkably mature about dealing with the murder of their parents, and most days keep moving on with life as he was sure was wanted of them. But it didn’t mean they didn’t still have rough days coming to terms with it.

Not so long ago, in fact, Spike had lapsed into a severe bout of survivor’s guilt, lamenting that he’d lived when their parents had not and leaving him in bad shape. Gallus attempted to help him overcome it via letter, but it eventually became clear this was too inefficient and only making Gallus deeply aware of his own survivor’s guilt he’d been trying to ignore. It got to the point that he finally had to walk out of a class, march into the headmare’s office, announce to Starlight that he needed to make an emergency trip (she’d fortunately been more than understanding—it must’ve been obvious how much he was hurting right then), and flew without stopping straight to Canterlot so to visit Spike and talk it out in person. Instead, they spent most of that impromptu visit holding each other and letting out the sadness they’d jointly let build up.

So to say it’d been hard was an understatement.

Gruff seemed to realize this and let the two have a moment in silence, spending it looking around the kitchen instead. Gallus and Spike had cleared out most of it so to have space for preparing food, but there were still plenty of boxes piled in an out of the way stack, full of the possessions Gwen and Spark had left behind. Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned back, resting against the table behind him. “I wish you two could have your parents again.”

Gallus took a deep breath and pulled Spike close. “We’ve still got each other, Gruff,” he reminded seriously, staring longingly into the simmering pot of soup before him. This was something he couldn’t stress enough.

“And we’ve got others helping to refill some of the gaps they left,” Spike added in. 
His eyes then noticed someone who must’ve appeared while they’d been talking. “Do you agree, Twilight?”

“I’d like to think so, at least,” Twilight Sparkle replied from beside the kitchen table, startling Gruff who’d failed to notice her quietly entering. “In any case, I apologize for interrupting.”

“That’s okay, Twi,” Spike said, motioning to the simmering pot of soup and the rest of the food they’d prepared, set aside for later. “This is all pretty much done anyway.”

“Then perhaps my timing isn’t so bad,” Twilight remarked optimistically, though there was still a somber tone to it. “We’re ready to begin outside anytime the rest of you are.”

A moment of silence passed as that was allowed to sink in. Gallus then nodded. “Okay,” he said, taking the pot of soup off the stove. “Let me and Spike go change first and then we’ll be right out there.”

“Are you sure, though?” Twilight asked cautiously. “We don’t need to rush into this. We can still give you time to…brace…first, if you need it.”

But Gallus wouldn’t have it, giving the alicorn a resolute look. “Princess, they’ve been waiting for nearly fifteen years for this,” he said, pointing a claw in the direction of the house’s backyard. “They shouldn’t need to wait any longer.”





Getting changed basically entailed gussying themselves up real quick. For Gallus, he made sure his appearance looked right in the upstairs bathroom and there weren’t any feathers or tufts of fur out of alignment. He then put on a simple tie and collar since the occasion did seem to call for the added formality, and this was admittedly about as formal as his wardrobe got. He’d wondered if he should invest in a tux or something so to up his formal game, but set that thought aside upon seeing what Spike had chosen to wear—a maroon bowtie embellished with small diamond-shaped gems sown into the fabric, alluded to have had been a gift from Rarity which tracked in Gallus’s head as it matched the fashionista’s style. But it also matched the same level of formality as what Gallus wore, so it made them both feel confident they weren’t under or overdressing for this.

They then went out into the lonely backyard behind the house where the others were waiting. It was a small gathering, consisting in addition to themselves only Gruff, Twilight, and Ditzy (all also lightly dressed except for Ditzy, who’d touchingly come in military dress). Twilight mentioned earlier that Raven Inkwell had been offered to come as well, but with both Spike and Twilight away from the royal palace, someone needed to stay and make sure affairs continued without problem, so Raven opted to do it. She nonetheless sent her regards, which was appreciated with both Spike and Gallus.

Once they were all there, some nods were exchanged as they silently agreed to begin and start taking up positions. Gallus did so awkwardly and feeling anxious. Even with the evening weather of late spring giving the scene some tranquility, he still wasn’t very comfortable being in this backyard. This was, after all, where his mother had met her tragic end, beginning the unraveling of his family, and Gallus suspected he would never be able to disassociate that haunting fact from it. The charred foundation of the destroyed greenhouse being right there in front of them certainly didn’t help. But unlike before, the spot had been cleaned up, with the loose debris removed and the wild weeds growing in and around it pulled. Twilight planned to plant a stretch of green turf over the area too once they’d finished, so to further beautify the spot.

For the moment though, the area held two large holes pre-dug down to the traditional six feet while two simple but elegant coffins stood beside them, awaiting burial.

The one on the right contained Gwen’s remains. Once the requisite control of the land had been secured and with Spike and Gallus’s permission, Twilight had arranged to have the griffoness’s remains exhumed. This was so they could be reburied in a more proper grave with all the ceremony thought befitting, which was agreed would be more deserved than the crude grave she had hurriedly, but lovingly, been buried in originally. That had been simple enough to arrange. But it was the coffin on the left that had taken some doing, and why these renewed funeral proceedings were taking place so many months later, as that coffin held the remains of Spark.

Spark’s remains were the most key to this, in fact, as it was locating them that gave rise to the idea of reburying both him and Gwen altogether, reuniting the couple at last. Finding his remains had taken some doing however, since its original location had been left unmarked. But working with what Gruff could remember and Twilight’s calculative skills to help further narrow it down, the exact location was eventually rediscovered and, again with Gallus and Spike’s permission, the remains exhumed for relocation and reburial. Where they’d be reburied was initially debated, but eventually they agreed that here, in the backyard of the family home, seemed the most fitting location. For Gwen and Spark, after all, it was their home. And it seemed fitting to bring the matter full circle.

Naturally, this all necessitated it be a closed casket funeral, as their remains were by this time just that—remains, just shy of skeletons. Or so Gallus had been told. He’d asked if he could see the remains for himself after they were exhumed, but Twilight had flatly refused, not wanting his last memory of them to be their mostly decayed bodies. And she was probably right to do so, but Gallus nonetheless still wanted the chance. Just standing here by their coffins was physically the closest he’d been to his parents in far too many years, and despite how morbid it’d be, he couldn’t help but long to get closer still, even if it mattered to no one but himself.

In any case, it didn’t take long to assume positions in a rough semi-circle and once she’d confirmed they were ready, Twilight stepped forward so to begin the proceedings. “We are gathered here this evening to pay final respects to our honored dead,” she opened before taking a deep breath. “Some of us here, such as myself, never had the honor of meeting Gwen and Spark. But nonetheless, their influence has been strongly felt in recent months as we’ve all learned just what sort of creatures they were. And they were very good creatures, who sadly paid the ultimate price in being so, a price no creature should ever have to pay. It is my deepest regret that they were ever put into such a situation, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we wish we could have done something to prevent it. But we’re here now, acknowledging—nay, venerating—everything they did and lived for, in the hopes to take up the cause they were tragically removed from entirely too soon. A cause we hope can now continue via the legacy they’ve left behind.”

She then let the silence help settle that thought before turning to the others and continuing. “We will keep this simple. I’m sure everyone has something they’d like to say before we proceed with the burial, so I will…open the floor, so to speak, for each of you to do so. Just know there is no rush and you can take as long as you need.”

She then stepped aside to allow someone to begin. It seemed no one was eager to be first though as there was an awkward pause with everyone glancing at each other, wondering who’d take the leap. Ultimately, seeing no one else seemed ready, Ditzy stepped forward.

“Hello,” she began formally, addressing the coffins. It struck Gallus as a little odd, unsure he’d ever heard the pegasus greet someone with anything other than her trademark “hiya.” “Like Twilight, we never met. And sadly, I wasn’t in a position to have done anything about it at the time, even if I had known. I still wish I could’ve, because I want you to know, I would’ve done everything in my power to stop it if I had…and maybe then we’d all be gathered here for very different, and happier, reasons.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “But…we can’t change the past. We can, however, change the future. So if nothing else I want you to rest easy—the creatures that did this have been brought to justice, and I vow to ensure it will never happen again, to your sons or anyone else who might suffer as you had. And, with time, build a world that’s far more welcoming of a family like yours.”

She lingered for a moment longer, as if debating, but then nodding in satisfaction she gave the pair of coffins a sad salute and stepped away for someone else to come forward. Another brief pause followed as everyone wondered who it’d be before Gruff approached the coffins. He started with his usual gruff demeanor, but Gallus watched in amazement as it all slowly stripped away with every step until, finally in position to say his piece, he seemed like a totally different griffon, one uncharacteristically ready to bear his heart out.

Gruff took in a deep breath as he respectively doffed the fez from his head, regarding the two coffins. “Gwen, Spark,” he began, his voice heavy, “I am so deeply sorry I hadn’t been able to save you. Looking back, there was so much more I could’ve done, been far more aware of the dangers you faced, and not been so quick to downplay those trials when they came up. And maybe if I had, you’d both still be here.” He then scoffed and waved a paw dismissively. “And I know what you’d say, that I couldn’t have known any more than either of you had, but that doesn’t mean it was right. Besides, I still have to live with what happened.” His paw wiped at his face and Gallus realized with a start that he was on the verge of tears. “What happened was devastating for me. The…the guilt over these long years…there were times I was about ready…ready to just give up and…resign myself to whatever came next.”

Gallus bowed his head at this. He had, of course, picked up on how heavily this weighed on Gruff, but to both hear him admit it and to understand just how heavily it’d weighed on him for so long…it was nearly heartbreaking. And with that dark cloud hanging over it all, Gallus wondered how anything could ever make it even just a little better for Gruff.

Gruff, however, wasn’t finished speaking. “But then I found your sons again.”

Gallus’s head whipped up with a soft reflexive gasp. And the faint twitch he saw from Gruff proved he’d heard and knew he had Gallus’s undivided attention now. But despite that, Gruff pressed on as if he and the two coffins were the only things in the world right now.

“Despite everything,” he went on, “there they were. Alive, healthy…been through their own trials and had their own scrapes…but there they both were, after years of me thinking otherwise.” He chortled to himself. “I nearly couldn’t believe it when I laid eye on Gallus, certain he could not be that same little cub from so long ago. Yet despite having grown so much, the more I looked at him, the more I talked to him…the more I knew. And then I found Spike and that all repeated for him too.” He shook his head as if amused. “They both take so much from you two…you should be proud for bringing them into the world.” His sadness then returned full force. “If only you could be here for them.” He wiped at his eyes again. “But know that what Ditzy said was true. We got the blighter responsible for all this. He won’t hurt anyone again. So even though I wasn’t there for you…at least know I still saw your sons to safety. I owe you both that much.”

Then, like a switch was thrown, that strange and vulnerable creature transformed back into the sequestered and closed off griffon Gallus knew while walking away from the graves again. Their eyes met briefly and Gallus felt a chill run through him as he realized that, though he’d probably never hear Gruff openly repeat it again, he’d meant every word. Words that Gallus needed a moment to sort out, so when Spike looked at him, silently inquiring if he wanted to go first or to wait, Gallus motioned for the little dragon to go on ahead.

So Spike was the next to step forward, standing somewhat awkwardly before the graves. “Um…hi,” he began uncertainly. “I, uh, I guess like Ditzy and Twilight, we’ve never really met, at least not without an eggshell standing between us.” He said it with a faint smile on his face like he was trying to make a joke, but the attempt swiftly imploded as the smile collapsed into a frown. “Yet I feel like I know so much about you already…and there is so much more I’d love to know too. But…we can’t. We…” he swallowed uncomfortably. “…we were robbed of that chance. And that’s…that’s unfair. But, uh…” he glanced back at Gruff who, suddenly embarrassed, avoided eye contact, “…if what Gruff said was anything to go by…I hope you’d be…proud…of us both, really.” He turned back to the coffins and shook his head sadly. “I miss you…I never even met you and I miss you. And I’ve spent the past several months just trying to…trying to come to terms with that. But I want you to know…we’re going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Others are looking out for us on your behalf, and they’re all being great at it. I’m…so lucky to have all of them. And…belated though it is…far more than it ever should be…I’m glad I got the chance to know what I have about you. You both seemed like such great creatures…I would’ve loved to have you as parents.”

He then stood there awkwardly for another moment, rubbing at his elbow as if lost on what else to say. Gallus had to fight the urge to run out and comfort him. When Spike finally did step away, Gallus stepped out to meet him part way so they could share a brief hug. Then, Spike went to join the rest and Gallus was left standing before the two coffins on his own. Feeling the inside of his beak go dry, he licked its edges uncomfortably as he faced his deceased parents.

“Saved the best for last, I suppose,” he began by attempting to quip. It felt hollow though, so he pushed ahead with a sigh. “Look, I’ll be honest, I don’t…really know what to say. I’m not an eloquent speaker, and…and nothing I could say really feels like it’d be…enough.” He took a slow shuddering breath. “But one thing I know I can say is…thank you. Thank you for everything you did for me and Spike during the…all-too-brief time we had together. Spike’s right, you were great parents, and…and it’s tragic we couldn’t get to have you for longer than that. I’m not even sure I can say just how tragic, because…” he licked the sides of his beak nervously again. “…well…I understand too well just what it was I lost.”

His gaze turned distant, finding himself thinking of a recent example. He wasn’t exactly eager to do so, but he felt compelled to speak of it anyway. “See, I…had this dream…not that long ago, a really simple dream. It was just me waking up and…having a normal day, a day like any other, except…you were both there. All of us were, like the happy family we should’ve been. Saying good morning to each other, laughing and joking over breakfast, wishing each other a good day as we went off to school or work or whatever, coming home and telling each other about our day…it was wonderful. It was just a fantasy, but it felt so good that I wanted it to be real so badly.”

When he woke up and realized it was all just a dream, in fact, he’d felt so devastated that he broke down sobbing and woke Sandbar, who came to see if Gallus was all right. And he wasn’t, but well-intentioned though it was, nothing Sandbar could do would fix that. So he’d angrily blown the colt off even though he didn’t deserve it. And Gallus spent the rest of that day in a miserable mood, bitterly wondering if knowing the truth of his parents was really worth it after all, because he’d just traded out the pain of not knowing for the pain of knowing…and he couldn’t decide which of the two hurt worse. But even though just thinking of that dream felt like he was strangling his own heart…the sheer joy that also came with it…he wasn’t sure he could bear to do without that either.

“I wish we could still have that,” Gallus eventually went on. “I’d give anything right now to just…just have one more day with you both, so to…just be your kid one last time. So to feel your love and to let you both know…you still have mine. And you always will. It all still…hurts, somedays more than I can bear, and…I gotta admit, I haven’t always done the best job dealing with that over the years.” He still felt so guilty for burying so much of what he could remember about them. Not a day went by now in which he didn’t fear there were memories he would never get back because of that. “But please…know you’re still loved…and most certainly missed. Though I’m sure, if you both were here now, you’d say the same about missing us.”

And then, just like that, it was over. Gallus turned and rejoined the group, having said all he could think to. The moment he did, Spike embraced him in another hug, Gallus returning it by numbly wrapping a wing around him. Gruff even reached over and gave him a gentle pat on the back, as if silently saying it would be all right. He suspected the only reason Twilight and Ditzy didn’t do something similar was out of fear of crowding him. Gallus wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not but he didn’t object either way.

Twilight then stepped forward again so to make some closing statements, but by that point it was all in a haze for Gallus, so little of it actually sunk in. It mostly sounded like what she had opened with though. Once she’d finished, she turned her magic to the coffins and, with great reverence, began lowering each one into the prepared graves. Watching each one vanish into the earth made Gallus’s heart clench with how final it seemed. But after both had been placed, it was Twilight using her magic so to refill the graves with dirt that really got to Gallus, his eyes starting to well up with tears. It wasn’t a harsh crying, instead quiet and somber, broken only by slow but sharp inhales rather than gasping sobs. Crying like this made Gallus feel weird, like he was sad, but also…something else he couldn’t quite settle upon yet.

Whatever the case, he wasn’t the only one shedding tears. Spike did as he clung to Gallus’s side, and though he seemed determined to not let them fall, Gallus noticed Gruff’s eyes were notably watered too. He was pretty sure he also saw Twilight shed at least one tear while she filled the graves. The only one he wasn’t sure about was Ditzy, and that was only because she had her eyes closed in a sign of respect. It didn’t stop or slow the burial though, and as Twilight finished clearing away the dirt piles, the new headstone marking the grave slowly came back into view, reading:

Here Lies
SPARK and GWEN
Loving Parents

Gallus found himself staring at it long and hard while Twilight smoothed over the refilled graves and rejoined them. They stood there in reverent silence for a long moment, taking in the sight and processing their emotions about it. Eventually, Twilight turned to Spike and Gallus and noticed their conflicted expressions.

“How are you two holding up?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle. “Are you feeling okay?”

Spike responded with a mere shrug, unsure how else to respond.

“With respect, princess,” Ditzy commented reverently, “we did just bury their parents.”

Realizing the answer should be obvious, Twilight bit her lip and went quiet.

When Gallus heaved another of those slow but sharp inhales, Gruff somberly spoke, giving the younger griffon a glance. “You hanging in there, boy?” he asked gently.

Gallus pondered the question for a moment. “Maybe,” he unhelpfully concluded.

Twilight couldn’t resist inquiring further. “How are you feeling?” she prompted.

Gallus mulled it over. Considering his heart felt like he’d stubbed it on a table leg, he couldn’t exactly say he felt good, but…there was still that other unknown feeling filling him that seemed very effective at smoothing over the harsher edges of the pain. He strained his brain trying to identify it.

“Peace,” he finally concluded in a soft voice. “I feel…at peace.”

There didn’t seem to be a better way to sum it up, so they all fell silent again, savoring that peace.





Eventually Gallus remembered that there was food waiting for them inside the house, and while going in to eat right after a burial did seem a little weird, he suddenly felt ravenous. So once confirming everyone was okay with going back inside (they were more concerned with whether he and Spike were okay with it anyway), they did so and started setting out the food.

“Thank you both for preparing all of this, by the way,” Twilight told Spike and Gallus as they worked. “You didn’t have to.”

“Eh, funerals traditionally call for a complementary meal, right?” Gallus soberly replied as he and Spike brought the food to the kitchen table a few at a time. “It wasn’t a big deal either way.”

“Looks like we’ve got a bit for everybody,” Ditzy noted encouragingly. She motioned to a plate Spike was bringing to the table. “You’ve even got some gemstones for Spike.”

Spike glanced down at the varying gems before setting it down. “Well, the quartz is for Gallus, at his request,” he said as he went back to get more.

That got Gruff’s attention who gave Gallus a strange look. “You’ve been eating gemstones?” he asked.

“I’ve been…experimenting,” Gallus admitted defensively before scoffing. “Look, Smolder insisted I try.”

It was all part of her self-proclaimed mission to get Gallus more in touch with his dragon side. She even went as far as teaching him how to find and break them up into easy-to-swallow portions, since he couldn’t chew them. Initially Gallus was reluctant to do anything more than taste them, because he still wasn’t convinced trying wouldn’t be problematic, half-dragon or not. Smolder rectified that though by getting him to sample a sapphire (a flavor he could only liken to a savory-tasting blueberry) then thumping him hard on the back so to force him to swallow on reflex. Gallus then tackled her to the floor and sat on her until she said uncle as revenge. But it still broke the ice and got him to try more before eventually deciding he kinda liked quartz the best (disappointing Smolder since she saw quartz as commonplace), not enough to make it a regular thing but rather an every now and again thing.

“Well either way it works out for me,” Spike added as he brought over a pitcher of drink next. “It means he should be open to having some of this dragon-style limeade made with powered limestone.”

Gruff raised his eyebrows at that. “I remember Spark making that every now and then,” he commented.

“All the more reason to serve it now then,” Ditzy observed happily while they all sat down.

They began eating in relative quietness for a long moment. There were compliments all around about the food being good, and Gallus poured himself a glass of the dragon limeade and sampled it. It had a gritty sharp flavor that kind of reminded him of tart candy in a good way. Eventually though, Twilight started looking around the kitchen they sat in, taking in the house’s interior.

“I’m glad we decided to have this here,” she remarked aloud after a moment. “It’s nice to see this home have some life in it again.”

There were some nods in agreement around the table. Gruff paused with his eating so to take in their surroundings too. “It’s a pity, then, that it’s only temporary,” he nonetheless had to solemnly note. He went quiet as he glanced down at his food in a moment of silent contemplation. “Have you two decided what you’re going to do with the house yet?” he then asked Spike and Gallus.

The two brothers stopped to look around at the interior of the family home. Even now, being here still gave Gallus mixed feelings he wasn’t sure what to make of. “No,” Spike admitted aloud after a moment. “Neither of us is really comfortable staying here longer than brief visits, but…we don’t really want to just give it up either.”

“I’m not sure anyone else would really want it anyway,” Gallus admitted. Not only did the property have a known history, it apparently fell outside of Griffonstone’s jurisdiction and had no real legal control of the land at all. As such, Twilight had declared the site protected land under Equestria’s authority for the time being, but so far no griffon seemed to have even noticed.

Quite probably, they were the only creatures in the world that still cared about the place.

“I get it,” Gruff nonetheless relented with a nod. “There’d…been times that I wondered why I even still cared about the place myself, thinking there wouldn’t ever be anybody visiting it again.” He then grinned a little, looking at Gallus and Spike. “I’m glad I stuck with it anyway, though.”

“So you can make it our problem now?” Gallus quipped teasingly as he sampled the soup that’d been served.

Gruff’s grin turned into a smirk. “Sure, we’ll go with that,” he replied, playing along. Though the real reason was plenty clear—it pleased him to see Gallus and Spike get to return to their family home regardless. And Gallus understood that pleasure. None of them could clearly articulate a reason why, but it still felt important they have that chance.

“I suppose this place would leave you two with mixed memories anyway,” Ditzy thoughtfully observed as she too glanced ponderously around the room.

“It’s…more that we just don’t have enough memories of it, I think,” Spike admitted. “All we really have is the reminders from Spark’s logbook and the family photo album.”

“And that’s sort of like…” Gallus paused, chewing on his tongue as he considered how to best phrase this. “…like looking at the individual pieces of a puzzle before you put it all together. You can tell clues from the pieces about the overall picture the puzzle is supposed to come together into, but you still don’t have the final complete picture to get the full…effect, you know?”

Twilight somberly gazed at the pair for a moment. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we could do to help correct that then, is there?” she asked.

Gallus hesitated, unsure if he could even answer that. Spike seemed equally uncertain. “Not anything more than what you’ve all already done, I think,” the little dragon said, “Though if you can think of any suggestions, we’d be happy to hear them.”

Another moment of silence lapsed as they pondered the dilemma briefly. “Speaking of the photo album,” Gruff suddenly spoke up, “I don’t suppose either of you brought it here, did you?”

As it happened though, Gallus had, figuring someone might want to refer to it for the funeral, so he was able to quickly retrieve it from his bag and hand it over to Gruff. Propping it up against the edge of the table, Gruff then proceeded to quietly thumb through it, looking at the pictures. Gallus initially thought he’d wanted to find something specific in it, but quickly realized that what Gruff truly wanted was the stroll down memory lane and so let him be. As he flipped through the photos though, both Ditzy and Twilight leaned over so to see as well, taking in the images of a now bygone time.

Ditzy heaved a sad sigh finally. “Mm, what should’ve been,” she mumbled more to herself than the others.

Twilight had begun to regard the photo album more pensively though. “You know,” she began, glancing at Gallus and Spike. “There’s no reason you can’t add your own photos and memories to this album. Help add a bit more of yourselves to it, rather than solely that of your parents.”

Spike blinked owlishly at that, as if he hadn’t thought it was even possible before that moment. “…photos of what, though?” he asked, suddenly overwhelmed by the possibilities.

“Well…how about here and now, and how you still have each other?” she asked, motioning to the pair sitting at the table. She then glanced around, as if feeling unprepared. “I don’t suppose anyone has a camera handy, do they?”

Ditzy thumped a hoof decisively on the table. “I’ve got you covered,” she announced, and now she was the one to get up and go over to her bag of things. When she came back, she carried a simple instant camera.

“You brought a camera to a funeral?” Gallus questioned as she reentered the room.  “Don’t flatter yourself—it’s part of my normal Night Guard gear for case work,” Ditzy explained as she hoofed the camera over to Twilight.

Twilight took a moment to familiarize herself with the camera’s controls before turning her attention back to Gallus and Spike. “Um…strike a pose, I suppose,” she quipped half-heartedly before adding, “Whatever you feel is appropriate.”

Spike and Gallus awkwardly considered to themselves for a moment what pose felt right for what was still a solemn occasion, but ultimately settled on holding each other in a one-armed hug and making soft grins for the camera. Immediately after Twilight snapped the photo, Gallus thought for sure it would turn out looking cheesy as heck, but as they watched the picture’s image slowly develop, he had to admit it turned out looking pretty good instead, filling his heart with welcomed warmth.

Gruff, meanwhile, had set down the photo album so to watch this, bringing his paws together and resting his head upon them. “I’m suddenly reminded of a time just after Spike’s egg had been laid,” he mumbled aloud, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “It was only the day after, recent enough that Gwen was still feeling…you know…sore.” The two mares in his audience both made understanding hums at that. “Word was already getting around though, so I’d come to make sure you were all okay. And that day you were…though maybe a bit worn out from all the excitement. Spark clearly had bags under his eyes, and Gwen was struggling to keep hers open.” He pointed a claw at Gallus. “And you’d already zonked for the afternoon and been put to bed for a nap. They hadn’t gotten a proper place for Spike’s egg to incubate yet though, so they were using part of your bed in the meantime. They’d tried to section it off so you’d keep on one side and not bother the egg.” He waved a paw in the air helplessly. “But in your sleep you’d managed to wiggle your way on over anyway, and we found you snuggled up to the egg like it was a big teddy bear.”

“Aww,” Ditzy cooed softly, putting her hooves over her heart while looking at Gallus, who felt his cheeks warm but was touched by the mental picture himself.

“Point is,” Gruff continued, “I probably should’ve known then that you’d two would end up inseparable.” He glanced at Gallus and Spike. “Because just like then, even with everything standing between you…you still found each other anyway.”

Gallus looked at Spike, who looked back. “Well…what did you expect?” he said before, with a grin, he brought Spike in close for a hug, who in turn welcomed it. “We’re brothers, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed with a happy grin. “We are.”

A moment of silence passed as they all savored the moment, then Ditzy glanced to Gruff. “You’ve got me curious now, Gruff,” she remarked to the griffon. “You have any other stories like that?”

“Nah,” Gruff replied, waving the suggestion aside. “Most of them after that are just…normal day to day things—the sort of thing you’d find in any family.”

But Gallus and Spike still stared expectantly at him, thinking their reasons for wanting to hear them anyway should be self-evident.

“Gruff,” Twilight then began gently, “Part of the reason we’re here in the first place is to remember Gwen and Spark’s lives.” She grinned faintly. “That still includes the mundane.”

“And some days,” Ditzy added, “even the mundane can feel incredibly special.”

“Especially when you know it’s something you’re not going to get again anytime soon,” Gallus added, trying to not sound pleading. He wasn’t sure he succeeded though.

But it seemed to warm Gruff up to the idea, because he gradually started getting into telling other tales with growing enthusiasm after that. Soon the food was all but forgotten as they listened to Gruff regaling them with tales he’d seen of life within the family of Gwen and Spark, some humorous, some heartwarming, and some…just good to know. Eventually, while Gruff told these tales, Gallus and Spike remembered the photo Twilight had taken of them. So while continuing to listen, they worked together to turn it into the first addition in the family photo album in nearly fifteen years. In addition to dating it, they gave it a straightforward and comprehensive caption:


“Alive and well and brothers again.”