> The Conversion Bureau: Balance
>  by Noble Cause
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter One: Just What Have I Gotten Myself Into?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter One: Just What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

The Potion swirled in the flask, the nanites glittering in the dim light.  The few flickering bulbs overhead tinted the magical fluid a dull amber.  Reinforced plating held the vault door for the moment, but between the plasma cutter and the pounding fists, that wouldn’t last much longer.
Claws tightened on sword and rifle, wings twitching in anticipation.  The door was kicked in, and a signal screech went up.
The battle had begun.





One week prior, eight days before Christmas

“Are you certain of this?” came the question for what seemed like the tenth time.  A hand came down, smacking the table and vibrating their lunch.
“For crying out loud, Barry, YES, I’m sure! Now stop asking!” was the exasperated response.  The first man rubbed at the bridge of his nose, sighing.
“Sorry, Thomas, it’s just... hard to believe.  You, all for conversion? Considering your father...” Barry said, then stopped as Thomas put up a hand.
“Actually, especially considering him.  You didn’t catch the newscasts after what happened in Manhattan, did you?” he asked, then dug into his alfredo, synth chicken and all.  Wasn’t bad, in his estimation.  Barry took a bite from his veggie burger, blinked, and eyed it.
“The Equestrians weren’t kidding, this isn’t half bad.  And no, I didn’t.  What about them?”
Thomas shook his head, then swept his brown hair out of his eyes.  “The Gryphons, Barry.  Military types, like what I wanted to be growing up.  Irish Sparta? sign me up! If you’d seen the photos, you’d understand,” he declared, pointing his fork at his friend.  Barry snorted, and took another bite in answer.
“So,” the larger man said, peering over his cobalt shades and quirking an eyebrow, “you feel like, what, you’ll find acceptance that you never got from daddy? are you kiddin’ me? This sounds like an ‘I hate you, so I’m running away’ kinda bullshit excuse, man.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’ve heard about them, what they’re capable of, the culture, all that shit.  Haven’t seen photos, but I can respect that.  At the same time, you haven’t hashed out nothin’ with your old man.  Settle that before you go traipsin’ into a Bureau, will ya?”
“He won’t listen, dipshit, don’t you think I’ve tried? Bad knees and screwed up bones suck and deny me anything in terms of Earthgov over here, but conversion fixes that, which leaves me wide open for a Gryphon option, if they’ll take me,” Thomas said emphatically, going through his alfredo a little more, then stopped, smiling a little, “besides, nice side effect of being on that side of the barrier? actual meat.  None of this synth shit.  That alone would make it worth it.”
“A-ha! So the truth outs itself at last! You just want a proper steak!” Barry laughed, then sobered, despite the smile.  “Still.  You know he ain’t gonna take it well, buddy,” he said quietly.
“I don’t plan on telling him.  He can deal with it and have his stupid little bullshit wanna-be ‘holy war’.  I don’t want any part of it, and never did.  You gonna breathe a word of this to him?” Thomas looked up through bangs fallen into his eyes again.
“He couldn’t bribe me enough.  You’re my best friend, shit, we went through school together, we’ve been friends since, what, fourth grade? I’ll back you all the way.  As long as you’re happy.  That’s what matters, man.  Just write sometime, will ya?” Barry answered, stoic in expression, but his eyes betrayed his worries.
“... Thanks, Barry,” he replied, going back to eating.
“Hey, what are friends for, right?” the big man asked rhetorically with a shrug, and started in on his fries.





The Bureau was smaller than expected, in some regards.  Rooms were tighter, more like a hotel than real open living quarters.  Gareth sighed in relief as he did a walk through.  They took his advice and installed both north-facing windows and a skylight.  Not much could punch through the new crystalline structure that comprised the glass, so the possibility of attack was reduced enough for his liking.  The diffused sunlight coming in, despite the terrible slate sky above, did wonders for his mood.  It wasn’t home, but it helped.
“Enjoying the view, Gar?” came a female voice along with a knock.  He turned, and grinned happily.
“For the moment, Tess.  How’s the kitchens?” he answered the arctic white and deep blue female leaning against the doorway.  Tesseth had ‘been around the block’, as the humans had termed it, and had seen more combat than he had, but to her credit, she was terrifying in close range, where he preferred to pick targets off.
“Beke’s looking them over now.  If he calls them ‘adequate’, that’ll be good enough for me.  Just a matter of getting the food in that WE like, rather than appealing to the ponies and us being an afterthought before now.  I hear that first convert, Fyrenn, has gone through a lot to make sure we get well-fed.  It’s nice to have some support on this side of the barrier,” she said.  Gareth nodded, eyes closing in thought, his amber head drooping a little.  “Tired?” she asked.
“A little.  That flight really took it out of me,” he admitted.  Tesseth approached him and patted his shoulder.
“Get some sleep.  We’re here for a couple months yet, you know.  We have time,” she said.  He nodded again, and stifled a yawn from his beak with a claw.
“Good point.  I just hope Beke doesn’t break anything.  I hear the cook’s a real roughclaw about their gear,” he said, sleepiness infiltrating his tone.
“He’s a chef.  They’re ALL roughclaws, no matter what the species,” Tess laughed.  Gareth snickered, and then took one more look around the room.
“Rooms are clear, and actually half-decent, for being a little smaller than we’re used to.  They’ll suffice.  Consider that my official report, eh?” he said, and then staggered towards the doorway, waving a claw in farewell.
“Fair winds in your dreams, Gar,” Tess called, then left the room, heading for the entryway to the complex.  Her answer was a door closing and the thud of Gareth hitting a nest of pillows somewhere down the hallway.  She shook her head, and continued her rounds.  They still had inspections to do.





Thomas Lawrence was... tired.  Tired was a good way of putting it.  Long day, despite lunch with Barry, who he knew he was going to miss.  Hopefully, this would work out.  Hopefully.  He readjusted the pack on his shoulders and took a deep breath.
“Here goes... something, I guess,” he said to himself, and stepped through the doors of the Trenton, New Jersey Conversion Bureau.  A pony looked up from her notes, and smiled.
“Good evening, sir.  Are you here for Conversion?” she inquired politely.
“I am, actually.  Looking to see if I match up to the Gryphons at all, in fact...” Thomas replied, trailing off.  He was nervous, and that was amplifying by the minute, now that he was here.
“Good to have you, then.  Vineyard Terrace, pleased to meet you.  What’s your name?” she asked, pencil in her muzzle to tap at a DaTab.
“Uh...” he started, then choked.  He cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Thomas Lawrence,” he croaked.
“Age?” she asked after she entered that information.
“I’m twenty-seven,” he said, head tilting in confusion.
“Race, human, caucasian... and enter,” Vineyard murmured, and then nodded as his information popped up.  “Okay mister Lawrence, you’re in the system.  Room six, if you please, down the hall on the left here, third door on the right, you can get settled tonight and one of the Gryphons will come get you in the morning for the beginning of what they term the 'interview process'.”
“Th-thanks,” he said, mouth suddenly dry, and he headed for his newly-designated room.  He was rather surprised when he opened the door.  Celtic knotwork greeted him in the form of a black and forest-green knit blanket on the tightly-sheeted bed, along with a letter of welcome on actual paper.  He picked it up, eyes glancing over the generic text, but he couldn’t deny the beauty of the written script or the feel of actual paper.  He dropped his bag on the floor, and settled it under the bed with a minimum of wedging.  He eyed the bed again, then removed a credit stick, and tossed it on the bed firmly.  It bounced, and his eyebrows went up.  Apparently they knew how to properly make beds, no matter what the species at these bureaus.  Chalk up another point for the opposite side of the barrier.  He re-pocketed the stick, and shucked his clothes off, stifling a yawn.  Sleep.  Definitely sleep.  He laid down on the bed after pulling the sheets back, and pulled them and the soft blanket up.  Comfy, he dropped off into a dreamless sleep.
He jerked awake what seemed like only minutes later at a pounding on his door, before it was opened.  A stern-looking brown and tan gryphon leaned against the doorway as Thomas looked at him blearily.
“Rise and shine, Thomas,” he sing-songed in a gravelly voice.
“I’ll rise, but I won’t shine... what time is it?” Thomas mumbled, groping for his pack and rummaging for fresh clothes blindly.
“Five thirty a.m., actually.  All potential newfledges are to undertake what’s a normal regimen after Conversion.  Come on, on your feet.  You’ll wake up after a nice breakfast, some caffeine and a brisk run,” he said, clapping his claws.  Thomas yanked on a pair of warm socks, shorts, and a shirt quickly, unmussed his hair, and nodded his readiness.  The Gryphon led him out of his room, with Thomas stifling a yawn despite himself.
“I’m Tiyo.  You’ll meet the others in short order.  After we eat, wake up a little, digest and run, you’ll have your interview.  Be honest, truthful, and brief.  Don’t explain further than you must unless asked.  This is as much to keep from wasting your time as ours,” he said.  Thomas was listening, and made a noise in the affirmative, but his eyes were drawn to the paired sword and what seemed to be a compact pike on his back, in between his wings.  Tiyo caught him staring, and a smile tweaked his beak ever-so-slightly.  “Yes, these are my weapons of choice.  The pike is more than it seems, however.  I’ve kept my bow in my room.  The chef’s a pain about projectile weaponry not being allowed in his eatery,” he explained.
Thomas grinned despite himself.  “As I understand it, almost anything can be a projectile weapon with your species, isn’t that right?” he asked.  Tiyo chuckled, wings ruffling a little in amusement.
“That would be correct, actually, yes.  Don’t tell the cook that, though,” was the reply.  Thomas was led through the entryway he’d come in through several hours back, and through a pair of solid steel doors that had a metal ladle and spatula for handles.

The cafeteria was a blaze of chattering chaos as the doors opened.  The noise level woke Thomas the rest of the way up, and he looked about at the expansive room.  High, heavy steel tables, sturdy chairs with cushions... and a lot more folks than he expected for this early.  Tiyo reached out and closed his mouth for him, and chuckled.  “You get used to the noise.  It’s worse at lunch,” he said over the din, and led him over to a table where there were five other Gryphons and a pair of humans seated.  The latter didn’t look anywhere near awake themselves, and as Thomas was pointed to a seat at the corner of one end of the table, a tray full of classic breakfast foods was slid over.
The smells hit him almost before the sight of it did, and it stirred long-ago memories of things he’d only seen in holo-programs and ancient food ads.  Pancakes, heavy on the syrup, two pats of butter, stacked five high and steaming.  Three eggs over easy, with freshly-cracked pepper.  What looked like four sausage links awoke his inner ravening carnivore, as if the matching four strips of bacon weren’t enough.  Add to that the pile of hash browns, and you had a meal fit to kill someone over.  Thomas dove in on it like a starving man.  The assembled Gryphons started laughing, and he looked up, mouth covered in syrup, licking it from his face.
“What? s’ good! Besides, we don’t get food like this.  I’m enjoying this like you wouldn’t believe,” he said.  A Gryphon across from him with ocean-blue feathers did that same subtle smile that Tiyo did earlier, and reached out a claw in greeting.
“Get used to it.  You pass, you’ll get food like this all the time.  Derani, nice to meet you,” she said.  Thomas took her claw and shook.
“Thomas Lawrence, pleasure to meet you,” he said, smiling.
“You’ve already met Tiyo,” she started, and he inclined his head, digging into a few baked potatoes, “there’s Tesseth to my right here, Gareth next to her, Beke next to him, and Merkus is about to join us,” she said, pointing behind Thomas.  He turned, and was greeted by a wheat-colored Gryphon, who nodded at him silently and took the free seat between him and the other humans on Thomas’s side of the table.
“I’m Jason,” said the first, sporting rather an impressive farmer’s tan offset by his red hair, leaning around Merkus and offering his hand.  Thomas shook politely.
“And I’m Andrew,” the black-haired coffee-toned man said with a wave.
“Hiya,” Thomas said, twirled his fork, and finished off his sausage, then looked regretful that there wasn’t more.  He was just left a few bites of hash browns.  He hadn’t realized just how truly hungry he was until he got actual food in front of him for the first time.
“Finish it,” Tiyo advised quietly.  Thomas looked at him curiously, and the Gryphon nodded at Thomas’ tray.  “Finish it.  You’ll need the energy and carbohydrates.  Trust us on this.”  Gareth and Derani nodded in affirmation when he glanced around the table, and he did as he was told.  Stomach was full, but a very good full.
“Wow... that’s good eating,” he commented idily.  Merkus snorted a laugh.
“Glad you like it.  We’ll give you a few minutes to digest a little bit of it, then it’s time for a run,” Tiyo said.  Thomas sat back, and his eyes closed.  He could feel himself wanting to doze off again.  The wonders of a large, filling meal and the lethargy that followed.
“Don’t go falling asleep on us.  We heard you got in around ten thirty last night, but once you’re up, you stay up until you’re either taking a watch out in the field, or you’re done for the day with whatever you’re doing,” Tesseth said.  Thomas nodded sleepily and raised a finger without opening his eyes.
“Old adage here for us humans.  ‘Never stand when you can sit, never sit when you can lie down, never lie down when you can sleep’” he quoted.
“A Mercenary’s Field Guide, page 378” Andrew quipped, making Jason snicker.  The Gryphons looked at each other, and Beke smirked.
“Oh yeah.  They’re going to fit in just fine, even if they don’t pass,” he snarked playfully.
“Eh, provided we don’t kill them first.  Humans break easy, remember,” Gareth answered.
“Humans are resourceful, thank you very much.  Something to be said for adrenaline and sheer willpower,” Jason replied.
“Point to your species in that respect,” Derani admitted.
Thomas opened his eyes and rubbed them, then stretched carefully, mindful of Merkus and Tiyo on either side.  Gareth clapped his claws, startling the nearby ponies, and let out a breath.  “So! How about that run, hmm? By the time we get outside, it’ll be six fifteen, and we can put you through your paces until the sun’s due to come up at seven.  Let’s go.”
Jason was the first on his feet, Thomas right behind him, and Andrew was a little slower to get up, holding his stomach.
“So full...” he groaned, making Tiyo shake his head a bit and laugh.
“You’ll burn it off,” he said, as the rest of the group got to their feet.  Thomas had a looming feeling of dread about this, somehow, judging by the devious look Beke wore.
> Chapter Two:  This Is Gonna Hurt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter Two:  This Is Gonna Hurt

Gareth was in the lead, Tesseth, who’d briefly vanished to return with her bow, was on his right.  Tiyo, Derani, Beke and Merkus had split off to take care of other things, leaving the pair to direct Thomas, Jason and Andrew to a corridor that was beside the desk still currently being run by Vineyard Terrace.  Vineyard waved at the group of them, and said good morning.  Tesseth formed her claw into a fist and bumped Vineyard’s outstretched hoof in greeting as they passed by, then down the hall.  The quintet moved through a rather well-lit hallway, with rooms like a first aid center on one side, the Conversion room on the other, and a third door simply marked by a sword and round buckler, all of them well shielded with very heavy steel doors.  Gareth opened the back doors, which reminded the human trio of an old school-style entryway, also steel, with glass insets to show the grass outside.  Well, what passed for grass, at any rate.  More surprisingly, in fact, was quite a large collection of what could be nothing but trees, even if they were petrified.  Thomas gaped a bit at the sight of them.
“No way...” Andrew murmured, sounding just as stunned.  Tesseth turned back to look at them as the doors closed, leaving the group about 30 yards from the Bureau building.
“What’s to be surprised about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Trees haven’t really existed in over eighty years... this is... w-wow.  Petrified or not, that’s amazing,” Thomas answered.
“Well, you’ll get to enjoy it, sort of,” Gareth said, unsheathing his longsword.  The trio took a nervous step back as the Gryphon raised his blade, then brought it down into the false soil, carving a shallow furrow, before he tapped it with the tip.  “On the line!” he barked, suddenly stern.  Thomas, Andrew and Jason hurried to obey, eyes wide.  Upon seeing them standing at attention, he nodded firmly.  He brought his sword up in a salute, then pointed to the wall that had been erected, solid reinforced concrete which could take a full-speed ramming from an armored personell carrier several times before falling.  The point was aimed at one of the capped columns sectioning the wall off.  “That column,” he indicated.  Tesseth raised her bow, and nocked an arrow, letting it fly with a severely under-powered shot after a quick sighting.  It thunked solidly into the trunk of one of the trees, the sound reverberating off the walls and over the open grassland.  “Tesseth’s arrow, you’ll go to that, and touch it... and then that column directly behind you, then back to us.  Just once, to start out,” he instructed, and raised his sword again, the steel gleaming dully in the dim mockery of sunlight, looking directly at the column.  “Ready...” he began.  Thomas and the others prepared themselves.  “Go!” he called out, bringing the blade down.
Jason took off, hauling for all he was worth and nearly in a sprint.  Andrew was second, also running, but not quite all out.  Thomas, for his part, was also running, but definitely having paced himself compared to the other two and obviously trying to keep his footfalls lighter, seeming to wince now and again.  By the time he’d reached the first pillar, Jason was past Tess’s arrow and more than halfway to the other pillar.  Andrew had just tagged it, himself.  Thomas was still pacing himself, chanting under his breath.  Tess took to the air, thinking Thomas slower than the others, but as she approached with a few lazy flaps of her wings, her ears caught the cadence, and the words made her smile.

Guideline One, time for fun
Guideline Two, strike them true
Guideline Three, make them see
Guideline Four, prepare for war
Guideline Five, always strive
Guideline Six, master conflicts
Guideline Seven, battle’s heaven
Guideline Eight, defend the gate
Guideline Nine, hold the line
Guideline Ten, we shall win

“So... come up with that yourself?” she called down.  Thomas’ head jerked up and he stumbled for a couple steps in surprise before regaining his footing.
“You heard me?” he asked back, eyes wide.  She could see the blush suffusing his cheeks.  He was kinda cute when he was embarrassed.
“Yeah.  Good military marching style.  Rather Gryphon-like.  So? You come up with it?”
“Well... yeah.  Needed something to hold onto, if that makes sense,” he replied with a shrug.
“I suspect it will make more sense when we all sit down with you for your interview after we’re done here.  Think you can try to pull my arrow out of the tree there, by the by?” she asked, claws akimbo as she stayed aloft.  Thomas reached her arrow and tagged it, then grasped firmly and pulled mightily.  It barely budged half an inch, but it moved.  “I’ll get it.  Keep moving.  Wanted to see if you could get it out on your own, if we’d underestimated human strength,” she called out, and Thomas pressed on towards the third pillar.  Tess landed and tugged hard, freeing the arrow and returning it to her quiver.  Thomas tagged the pillar, and made his way back to Gareth and over the line.  Jason and Andrew were pretty much dead on their feet, panting hard and gasping for air.  Thomas was a bit on the breathless side, his legs and lungs burning a good deal, but he wasn’t bent over and shaking.
“Hm.  Not bad.  A bit on the slow side, but not bad,” Gareth commented, then nodded towards the doors.  “Back inside when you’re not begging for death, gentlemen.  I want to see you in the interview room after orientation, if you do decide that you want to try flying with us, which is the door marked with the sword and shield you saw earlier,” he said, and started walking towards them.  Thomas followed after a few moments of stretching, while Tesseth waited with Jason and Andrew patiently.
Thomas let out a breath as he came back inside, the cold outside finally getting to him and making his knees ache from the temperature change.  Gareth stopped as he heard the door shut behind Thomas, and turned to see the man wincing.
“You all right there, Thomas?” the Gryphon asked as he staggered up a few feet.
“I’ll be fine, thanks,” came the grit-out answer, Thomas stretching his legs and leaning against the wall with one hand.
“If you say so.  Orientation room is on the right, before you hit the rooms, just off the entry way.  There’s a sign on the door,” he instructed.  Thomas sighed as his knees finally popped and the pressure was relieved.  He did a couple quick jogging steps, then nodded to himself.
“That’s better... thank you for the info, Gareth,” he said.  The Gryphon nodded, and proceeded off down the hallway.





Thomas opened the door, to see Derani inside already, carefully manipulating a DaTab with a deft talon, while a unicorn with a roll of bandages for a cutie mark worked on her own via a holo-display.  Thomas noticed there were a half dozen people scattered around in chairs, and, after glancing at Derani who gestured to the open seats, he took a chair against the wall, away from the rest of the group.  Derani glanced over at him, then returned to her work.  A series of chimes sounded as the clock struck nine a.m., sounding much like an antique grandfather clock.  The pony cued up something on her display, and Derani did the same, just as Jason, Andrew, and three others came in.  The first two still looked ragged around the edges as they took seats, almost falling into them.  The pony stomped a hoof twice for attention, and nodded as everyone looked at her.
“Hello everyone, and welcome to morning Orientation for this group.  My name is Poultice, I’m one of the medical unicorns here.  Myself and my friend Suture are who you’re brought to if you’re injured while here.  While my compatriot here can’t be affected by magic,” she introduced, nodding at Derani, “the rest of you can be... at least for the time being.  I’m here to explain the Pony side of things, under the diarchic rule of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.  Celestia, for those that don’t know, raises and lowers the sun, and Luna does the same with the moon.”
There were snickers at this.  Apparently some potential Converts didn’t really believe that yet, and Poultice frowned.  “I see that some of you disbelieve this fact.  Unfortunately for you, it is a fact.  Equestria operates on different rules than your earth does” she said firmly, and tapped her horn for emphasis, then pulled up her holo-display, expanding it with two button presses.  She pointed out the region of Equestria with a red gleam from her horn, which highlighted helpfully.  “This is Equestria, as it is known to us.  There are mild dangers, compared to our Gryphon friends, but I’ll let Derani here explain that in a moment.  The key points for Ponies to live by are, frankly, peace and tranquility.  Friends and family are loved and cherished, to be sure, but there are other things in life.  Business, crafts, politics, studies, economics, art, industry.  All of these professions are open to you, and more.  Technologically speaking, perhaps, it is a giant leap backwards from what you are used to,” she said, gesturing to the holo-display being generated by the DaTab, “but there are ways to replicate many things.  Holographics such as these are easily doable with magical means.  Certainly, you won’t have instantaneous access to the latest news, or be able to speak to your friends over great distances in the same fashion as you once could, but that’s offset by the fact that Pony life is slower-paced.  We take our time and relish life.  We savor each day as something new to be discovered.”
Poultice stepped back, the display winking out as Derani leaned back against a wall, adjusting her wings idily.
“So... Gryphons... many of you aren’t here for that.  A rare, precious few are.  Gryphons live hard, and play harder, as the saying goes.  We are intense creatures, unlike our more laid-back Pony friends.  More rough and tumble, to use an old colloquialism.  We’re smiths and crafters.  Artisans and metal-workers.  We duel with blade and spear and pike for fun, and if we want to get away from it all, we really CAN get away from it all.  Our speed is unmatched save by a rare few pegasai in a straight shot... for all of five minutes, and we can outfly damn near anything except dragons.  Gryphons have a few other tricks that Ponies don’t, and you’ll learn them as you need it, if you desire to fly with us and pass muster.  Any of you that decide to try your luck against one of us in a fight while you’re here will find out that Gryphons are much more combat-oriented.  We’re not nice in the way Ponies are.  We’re even less pleasant if we don’t have our caffeine.  We get sick, it’s not a minor thing, so there’s a drawback to being one of us, too.  You get a head cold as a human, it’s a few days of being stuffed up and miserable.  You get the same thing as a Gryphon, it’s more akin to the nastier kinds of pneumonia out there.  Full medical quarantine kind of bad.  It’s not a joke.  In exchange for this, though, we are stronger and faster than most other species, and nearly as tough.  Sure, you could break bones... but you wouldn’t live long enough to regret it, either.  I say again, we are INTENSE beings.  If you want to become a Gryphon, remember that.  Thank you.”
Poultice stepped forward again, smiling, and clopped her two front hooves together, leaning on a desk.  “Well then,” she called out, “now that you’ve heard the spiel from both sides, a show of hooves, er... hands for those that wish to go pony?”
Nine hands went up, including, to Thomas’ surprise, Andrew’s.  Poultice nodded, and took everyone’s names down.
“All of you interested in flying with the Gryphons?” Derani snapped, military-stern.  Thomas’ hand went up with Jason’s and one mousy looking girl in blue-framed glasses and thick brown hair.  The Gryphoness nodded, and took down each name, including the girl’s, Jenna Ronson.
“That’s orientation, for the most part.  One note, however.  Classes start at 10 a.m. tomorrow morning.  No alcohol or synthetic tobacco is allowed on the premises once classes are in effect.  You have roughly... a twenty-four hour window to enjoy those things one last time.  It cuts down on possible issues come Conversion.  Makes sure your system is clear, you see.  That is all.  Dismissed!” Poultice chimed back in.  Thomas got back to his feet, wincing, and left the room with the others, spotting Gareth walking past.  He fell into step several paces behind him, smiling shyly.





Gareth glanced behind himself, then nodded once, before reaching the door and knocking twice firmly.  The sound of multiple massive deadbolts sliding back was heard, and the door opened revealing Merkus, who nodded in greeting and swung the door back to let the two of them in.
The ‘interview room’ was an armory.  A fairly good sized one, too, judging from the pulse rifles and what Thomas assumed were un-strung arbalests and bows akin to Tesseth’s lining one wall, while body armor and Gryphon plate armor lined a second.  Thomas saw a lot of variation in the latter, but one thing was consistent, and that was practicality.  Easy to get into, judging by the rest of the Gryphons present, and hard to penetrate.  The third wall seemed to be all melee weapons, swords and extendable batons.  The fourth wall, where the door was, lay the medical supplies.  First aid, mostly, judging by the small lockers and metal cases.  Thomas was pressed forward into a chair by Gareth’s claw on his back, before he took his own seat.  Merkus re-opened the door at the same two knocks, letting in Tesseth, who told Jason and Jenna outside to wait there, that they’d be next.  The Gryphoness stepped inside and the door was sealed once more, with the last two taking chairs.
Thomas was seated with the medical wall to his back, and the Gryphons arrayed in a half-moon around him.  Expressions ranged from sleepiness on the part of Tiyo, to annoyance from Beke, to piqued interest from Tesseth, Gareth and Derani, to pure silent stoicism from Merkus.  Thomas felt like he was a meal getting sized up for how to be pieced out, and he began to sweat nervously.
“So... you want to be a Gryphon,” Beke crooned out, the annoyed look he wore also showing in his tone.  It was apparent that he thought this, and Thomas, a waste of his time.  Thomas took a deep breath and steeled himself internally.
“Yes.  I’d like to be,” Thomas answered levelly.
“What makes you the ideal candidate?” Tiyo asked quietly.  Thomas cocked his head at that.  He was afraid of getting questions like this.
“Nothing, if I had to be perfectly honest.  I’m not military.  I know how to fire a gun, and handle myself in a fist fight, but that’s the extent of my combat prowess before now,” he admitted.
“That’s not what he asked.  What makes you ideal?” Derani’s tone was velvet-gloved steel, her eyes hard.  The human swallowed nervously.
“I... I saw the pictures, of the Gryphon Kingdoms, after what happened in Manhattan.  How you, along with the ponies and squads of humans took down a threat that could have destroyed millions of lives.  I heard about the bravery, and compassion, and skill of all involved.  I saw news articles and programs about that first Gryphon convert.  All of that...” he started, trailing off, then he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, “all of that made me feel like there was maybe, possibly, some place I might find purpose in my life.  I’m not proud of my family line, in fact I’m ashamed of it.  I know I’m not meant for a peaceful pony existence, that’s not who I am.  That being said, I feel that I’d be much more at home, happier... saner, perhaps.  I’d finally have a place to call home, something to be proud of in my existence.”
“Why are you ashamed of your family line?” Tesseth asked.  Her expression was inscrutable, but the tone was genuine concern.  Thomas dropped his head into his hands at that question and groaned aloud.
“I was afraid of this... it’s why I’m worried I’d be rejected, hell, why I wouldn’t blame half the humans here for wanting to kill me.  I’m ashamed because of my father.  He’s a local leader for the HLF,” he admitted.
“Explain!” Beke growled, his expression dark and claws twitching.
Thomas smiled sadly at him.  “You’re not happy about this, are you? Imagine how I feel.  My old man’s always been an insular asshole, but when Equestria popped up, and he found the barrier was unstoppable, it became his personal damn crusade.  He seriously considers this a holy war, and I don’t want any part of it, or him,” he answered.
“Do you blame us? or Celestia?” Gareth asked.  Thomas shook his head firmly no.
“I can’t.  It’s impossible to fault any of you.  How can I?  It’s obvious that Celestia regrets the way things are going, but far be it from me to say that there’s anything bad about the situation.  Humanity’s grown complacent and stupid.  Yes, I’m belittling the race I’m part of.  We KILLED our world, accidentally through sheer stupidly bad luck, but the fact remains.  I’m surprised you all, much less Celestia, don’t just leave us to our fate.  The fact you all offer conversion is a kindness I cannot comprehend, but one I am eternally grateful for.  You’ve all given us a way out, if we choose to accept it, and I gladly do.  Even if you don’t think I’m a good match to be a Gryphon, I still intend to LIVE.  There’s too much in the world, on either side of the barrier, just to give up hopelessly.  There’s so much to see that I can’t ever see myself willingly going ‘Hey, screw conversion, I’m just going to die’.  It doesn’t make any sense,” he finally said, choosing his words carefully, but meaning every one.
There was silence from the assembled group as Thomas rubbed his eyes.  Merkus looked over at Beke and raised an eyebrow.  Beke frowned and shook his head in response.  Derani and Tesseth traded looks with Tiyo and Gareth, before the four nodded.  Merkus drew his blade and tapped it on the plascrete floor, making a pinging sound that got Thomas’ attention.  The sword was sheathed as the human looked up.
“We’ve made our decision.  We’ll see how you handle for these coming two weeks, but you’ve impressed us.  Mostly,” Tesseth announced, sparing a moment to look at Beke, who snorted derisively, “since some of us are hard to please.  I’ll be taking you under my wing personally, Thomas.  We’ll get you settled in with me.  For the next two weeks, you sleep when I do, you eat when I do, and I’ll certainly be putting you through your paces, as the saying goes.  However, it won’t be all work and no play.  There’s some rest and relaxation, too.  Whether it’ll be ‘necessary’ rest and relaxation, on the other claw, remains to be seen.”
Thomas let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and smiled.  “Thank you.  All of you.  You don’t know how much this means to me,” he said genuinely.
“I’m pretty sure we have an idea, actually,” Derani said, laughing quietly.  Tess rose, and offered Thomas her claw.  He rose in turn and took it, the pair of them shaking firmly.
“Just to warn you, Thomas? you might come to regret this,” she said quietly.
“Oh, probably, in some regard.  But the opportunity is too magnificent to pass up, even at the prospect of immense pain,” he replied.
“Boy, are you going to regret telling her that,” Gareth commented, a wicked look in his eyes as Merkus opened the door and pointed at Jenna, while Tesseth beckoned Thomas to follow him, grabbing two wooden practice swords from the melee section of weaponry on her way out and headed back for the lawn and span of trees where they’d just had their run.  Thomas was suddenly worried about what she had in mind as she tapped the blades together thoughtfully.
> Chapter Three:  Yep, It Hurts
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter Three:  Yep, It Hurts

‘Doomed’ was a good way to describe how Thomas was feeling.  Tesseth lead the way back out the doors to where they had their run earlier, and lobbed him one of the practice blades before twirling her own.
“Going to put you through your paces, if that’s all right?” she asked casually.  Thomas flinched, but brought his blade up, earning a nod from his opponent.  “Brave.  Foolish, but brave.  Come on, give me a shot,” she said.  Thomas blinked.  She nodded again, encouragingly.  Thomas swung, rather wildly.  The impact was like hitting stone with a metal pickax, the vibrations making him drop his weapon.
“Ow! DAMMIT!” he swore, shaking out his hands, while Tess laughed.  “Didn’t that hurt?!” he cried, wincing.  He thought he’d be feeling that for days...
"You can't hurt us by your strength or speed alone.  Not as you are," she answered, not a small amount of smugness in her tone.  Thomas lunged at her, intending to prove her wrong, arm extending for a punch.  One which never connected.  She smoothly grabbed his wrist in a claw, humming inquisitively.  “Braver, but still foolish of you.  Lesson one of taking on a Gryphon, Thomas: a frontal assault is always doomed to failure," she declared.  She pulled the strike, but the backhand still sent him flying back a few feet to land on the turf roughly.  He groaned, his bones aching, and he tried to get up.  He looked up, to see Tess extending a claw.  He took the lift up, and was set back on his feet, then handed his sword again.  She paced a few large steps away, then turned to face him again, bringing her sword up once more.  “Again.  Try holding your sword out at a forty-five degree angle.  It gives you a little more reaction time, since your eyes train upon the point of your sword,” she tapped her sword against his, making them clack quietly.  “On your guard, Thomas,” she murmured, and swung for his head.
Thomas, for his part, did something unexpected, and instead of blocking, he dropped to his knees and thrust upwards sharply at her unprotected stomach.  Tess let out a chirp as he connected.  “Good!” she called out and backed away a few paces again.  Thomas regained his feet, looking cautious and wary.  “I let you connect, though I could see it coming as soon as you dropped.  Gryphon eyes and minds can percieve much faster, like training a muscle.  Train it, and you can calculate for several minutes mentally, in much less real-world time.  I could have shattered your collarbone and probably most of your spine, if I just adjusted my stroke.  That’s the one free shot you get.  Shall I not pull my strikes any more?” she asked, a smile in her eyes.  Thomas’s eyes narrowed, and he spat on the ground, bringing his sword up.
“I never asked you to pull your strikes.  I fully intend on earning my wings.  Give me everything you’ve got!” he said angrily, rushing her.  Tesseth rolled her eyes, and sidestepped at the last possible second, then promptly smacked Thomas in the back of the head with the flat of her blade as he ran past, knocking him flat.
“Gutsy.  Emotional.  And stupid,” she said harshly, bringing her sword down.  Thomas rolled out of the way, and regained his feet again under a few hard strikes from Tess.  “Lesson two! Don’t let your emotions get the better of you! You get short-sighted and become less combat efficient.  Like right now, for example,” she commented casually, and swept aside his guard, slamming the wooden blade into his left side and cracking a few ribs.  The impact left Thomas gasping and holding his side, even as he blocked a follow-up smash that sent him staggering back to land on the turf again.  He rolled left to dodge the downward slash, then right as she made to strike again, wood clacking against wood as he blocked, and lunged back to his feet, thrusting violently.  Tesseth snorted, knocked Thomas’s blade out of his hands, then delivered a crushing blow that left his left arm dangling uselessly, and Thomas seeing stars from the pain.  He staggered, fighting through the haze, and retrieved the sword one-handed.
“Getting better.  C’mon!” Tess snapped.  Thomas held back, advancing cautiously, blade held in a defensive slant.  A nod of approval was given to him, and she idily reached out as he got within range, tapping her blade against his.  From the moment of contact, he brought his sword around to strike her opposite, more exposed half.  She parried calmly, to which he riposte, getting blocked again.  Thomas tried another angle, panting as the pain started to get to him, and was blocked once more.  His next swing didn’t have more than half his strength behind it, and Tess’s eyes glittered knowingly.
“Yep, we’re done here,” she commented.  Thomas snarled gutturally.
“No.  We’re.  Not!” he snapped forcefully.  Tess’s eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head as she blocked a quick flurry of three strikes.  It was obvious the rage had bled dry what reserves Thomas was drawing off of, however.  The point of his blade wasn’t even parallel to the ground now, and dropping by the second.
“Don’t go and make a challenge to a superior unless you know you can win.  Consider that lesson three,” Tesseth instructed, almost quiet, and swept Thomas’s legs out from under him.  The look in his eyes was burning fury as he tried to move, only to find he had nothing left.  Tess’s sword came down and shattered his right shin, Thomas screaming in pain and nearly fainting.
“Y-you’re... a bitch!” he gasped, eyes glazing a bit.  Tess actually laughed at that.
“No, I’m a hen.  The day I look like a Diamond Dog is the day I hang up my sword.  Lesson’s over for today.  I’ll get you to Poultice and Suture,” she said, picking him up by his good arm, sword and all, and getting him half-draped over her back.  Thomas kept his right leg up, and he hobbled as he took slow, careful half-steps, Tess watching him the whole way.  Gareth, emerging with Jenna in tow, took one look at Thomas and sighed.
“Did you at least take it easy on him, sister?” he asked, making Jenna blink in surprise.  Thomas weakly eyed Tess, who smiled at him, before nodding to Gareth.
“I did, brother.  Though he did push his luck, there’s potential.  He just needs more practice.  And learn to control his emotions, of course,” the Gryphoness answered genially.
“You’re family?” Jenna squeaked, contributing to her mousy appearance and taking the words right out of Thomas’ fuzzy brain.
“We are.  And couldn’t be happier.  We’ll explain, some night, perhaps.  Come along, time to see how you handle a bow, miss Ronson,” Gareth said, sounding remarkably chipper.
“Have fun... I did,” Thomas mumbled, grinning weakly.  Tess smiled at her charge approvingly, and stepped through the doors that her brother held open.  The last thing Thomas heard was a quiet chuckle from the Gryphon outside, then the door shut.

There was an odd cadence as they made their way down the hall.  Tesseth’s claws and paws making muted clicks and thumps, and the sole thud of Thomas’s good leg as he stepped, leaning more on her for support now.
“How much further to medical?” Thomas mumbled.  He was fading fast, teeth grit against the pain.
“Fifteen feet to the elevator, tops.  I can hit the button with the sword-point from four feet, then it’s up one floor and right across from us,” was the answer, calm and assured.
“Works for me!” he gasped, trying to be funny with a quip, but it only came out strained.  Stagger, thump, click, thud.  Tess took up her sword, hit the elevator button, and got inside with Thomas as it dinged.  Ten seconds later, and the doors opened onto the first floor, Tesseth tapping firmly on the titanium, sounding like a firm knock.
The door opened to reveal a unicorn with a baby blue mane and eyes to match.  Thomas guessed this was Suture.  “Hello? Sweet Celestia, what happened to you?!” she shrieked, and Poultice poked her head out of the door to look, eyes widening.
“Practice!” Thomas answered cheerfully, grinning like an idiot.
Poultice and Suture looked at each other, sighed, and rolled their eyes.  “Newfledges...” they muttered in unison, and backed into the medical station to let Tess and Thomas in.  Thomas was helped, wincing, onto a gurney, and then hissed as his blood was quickly drawn.
“Ow... add to the pain, why don’t you?” he sniped.  Tess firmly clapped a claw on his un-injured shoulder, and gave him a look.
“Behave, Thomas... you don’t want to know what happens when you tick off medical professionals.  Speaking from personal experience here,” she said warningly.  Thomas sighed, and relaxed.  Poultice and Suture shared another look, before the latter shrugged, and took down a medical kit filled with bone-knitting nanoparticles in pre-loaded syringes.  Tess caught Suture’s eye, and glanced down at the kit.  The medical unicorn blinked, then frowned.  Tess shook her head slightly, and looked at the kit again.  Suture closed her eyes, and picked up another, differently marked syringe.  Poultice quickly re-set the broken bones with a few quick twists of her magic, while physically prepping Thomas’s right arm.  He was injected moments later, and the human shivered a bit.  He could almost feel the nanites traveling through his body, or so it seemed.  Suture splinted the newly set damaged areas, and levitated over a crutch for his arm.
“Now, you’re going to want to take it easy for several days.  The nanoparticles are going to take two weeks or so to actually do any real work,” Poultice instructed.  Thomas gave her a look, then looked over at Tesseth.
“Considering that I’ll be Converting in less than two weeks, if I pass, I don’t think I have much to worry about,” he said.  The Gryphoness laughed at that, making the unicorns sigh.
“Fine, just... be more careful.  We don’t want to have to see you in here every day or two, all right?” Suture countered.  Thomas raised a finger.
“That, I can do,” he replied.  Tess nudged him.  “Mostly,” he amended, looking a little sheepish.
“Come on, on your feet.  Let’s get some food in you.  You’re going to need the energy reserves to knit yourself back together,” the Gryphoness said, and helped Thomas to his feet.  Thomas leaned lightly on the crutch, and threw a backwards wave at Poultice and Suture.
“Thanks for the help, girls.  It’s greatly appreciated!” he called, oddly cheerful at the prospect of more amazing food, as the door closed behind him and Tess.
Suture looked at Poultice.  She looked back at her friend.  The two shared a sigh.  “He’s going to be in here often, isn’t he?” Poultice asked her compatriot plaintively.
“I’ll stock up on the supplies,” Suture replied in a resigned tone.





Tiyo looked up as the cafeteria doors opened, and tilted his head inquisitively at the sight of Tess helping Thomas gingerly make his way in.  It was rather empty, for eleven a.m. and it being so close to lunch.
“Tesseth? Thomas? what happened?” he asked.
“Practice.  He asked for it,” Tess replied, with amusement in her tone.  Tiyo looked over at Thomas, who grinned sheepishly.
“It’s true, I did.  Worth it, though, to do my best to hold my own,” he defended weakly.  The Gryphons looked at each other and sighed.  Humans.  Couldn’t live like them, couldn’t shove them off a roof to knock sense into them.  Thomas frowned.  “What?” he snapped.
“You’re human, Thomas.  Gryphons are... above and beyond what you’re capable of.  We have to hold back in combat training, or you wouldn’t survive the first session” Tiyo explained kindly, and gestured to Thomas’ injuries, “you got off light, going against Tess.  Do yourself a favor and don’t ever challenge Merkus.  He’ll leave you in a pile of broken bones.  Beke will just eviscerate you.  Tess and Gareth are the two with the real combat experience alongside Merkus.  We’ve all learned about challenging Derani to archery contests.”
“And you?” the human asked, eyes narrowing, distinctly feeling like he was being talked down to.  Tiyo raised his claws to try to defuse his anger.
“I’m a scholar, along with being a warrior.  I tend to be a bit more... elegant in combat.  I use my pike here to keep a bit of distance, but if they close to closer range, I use my blade,” he replied, tapping the compact alloy metal on his back.
“So, I shouldn’t even bother, then?” Thomas said, still feeling slighted.  Tess put a claw on his uninjured shoulder.
“We’re not saying that, Thomas.  We’re saying that, as I mentioned earlier, with your current strength and speed, you can’t touch us.  It’s just a fact, please don’t be offended.  We don’t intend any insult.  Come on, sit down... you’ll feel better after you get some lunch,” she murmured, guiding him to a seat, much as Tiyo did previously.  Thomas sat, feeling his emotions roil inside.  The clopping of hooves on tile was a distinct sound, enough to draw his attention, and he looked around, finding a unicorn trotting out with a chef’s hat and apron on.  The pony gave Tesseth a sharp look at the practice blade in her free claw, and sighed, blowing a bit of his fiery red mane out of his matching eyes, which promptly settled back over a twitching beige ear, before he approached with Tiyo’s meal.
“Here you are, sir.  Hello, human.  I’m Head Chef Cayenne Pepper.  Stay the buck out of my kitchen.  What do you want?” he snapped, giving every indication of a long-suffering annoyance at everything that wasn’t related to his cooking.  Thomas’s response was fairly subdued, still somewhat lost in thought.
“Are you the cook for the entire Bureau?” he asked.
“I am... what of it?” was the cautious answer.  Thomas looked around, and noticed what seemed to be another tightly-sealed kitchen adjoining the main section.  An idea came to him, and he pointed with his good arm.
“If that’s another kitchen, I think I could take the meat preparation and cooking off your hooves, Chef.  You wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the Gryphons, you could leave it entirely to me,” he said.  Tiyo was giving him a curious look, and a raised eyebrow.
“It is indeed another kitchen... do you cook?” Cayenne inquired.
Thomas shrugged, carefully.  “I have a few recipes in my personal cookbook.  I’d satisfy the Gryphons, you wouldn’t have to get anywhere near the meat.  Win-win scenario.”
The Chef perked up at that, and a bit of the harshness went out of his tone.  “What’s your name? And when can you do this?”
“Assuming that Tess here doesn’t break any more of my bones any time soon... I can start moving everything over to the other kitchen tonight, if that’s all right.  My name is Thomas.  A pleasure to meet you, Chef.  If it’s not too much imposition, could I get a four egg omelette with peppers and cheese?” he said, smiling.
“I can certainly do that.  Especially if it means you can take that meat cooking off my hooves.  It bothers me like you wouldn’t believe,” Cayenne answered.
“I think I have an idea, actually,” Thomas replied, and the Chef turned to head back to the kitchen.
“You do realize I can’t make any promises, right?” Tess asked, leaning over with amusement dancing in her eyes.
“I’m well aware, and I’m willing to take that risk!” he replied cheerfully.  Tiyo chuckled behind a claw.  Thomas stretched, then grunted, his eyes going wide.  A whimper of pain escaped him.
“You okay?” Tess asked, looking concerned.
“Ow... my everything...” Thomas gasped, shaking a bit, and very slowly tried to relax.  Tess winced in sympathy and helped him settle back into a normal relaxed position.  He laid his head on the table and groaned.  “That’s pain,” he murmured weakly.  Tiyo just shook his head, as Cayenne returned, raising an eyebrow at the human.
“What happened to you?” the chef asked, putting the tray down on Thomas’ left.
“Practice...” came the answering groan.  Tiyo pushed Thomas’s tray against his arm, and Cayenne retreated, rolling his eyes.
“Come on, sit up and eat.  You’ll live.  You’ll hurt for a while yet, but you’ll live,” the Gryphon prodded.  It was Tesseth’s turn to snicker a bit, and she helped Thomas sit upright with another wince.
“I feel like I’ve had this conversation before,” Thomas said, and dug into his omelette.  As with breakfast, the first bite made him pause, and his eyes closed, savoring the flavors.  He swallowed, almost reluctantly, and looked over to Cayenne, raising his fork appreciatively.  “My compliments to the chef! This is amazing!” he called out, then dug in with gusto.  Tess burst out with a squawking laugh, while Tiyo just beakclawed.
“What have you done, sister?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine,” Tess crooned playfully.  The pair of Gryphons sat idily while Thomas ate, Tiyo humming to himself as he perused a DaTab.  Thomas’s eyes flicked over to him, and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he swallowed his latest bite.  Tiyo’s eyes met Thomas’s, and he shrugged a little.
“As I said earlier, I’m a scholar.  Lots of interesting history your species has.  This ‘Wikipedia’ thing is fascinating.  So much information, and most of it created by others of your species.  Quite impressive.”
Thomas blushed a little in pride.  “We are nothing if not innovative in some respects, if you don’t mind my boasting,” he replied.
“It’s not a boast if it’s grounded in fact.  I’m going to be quite busy for some time, thanks to your kind.  As a seeker of knowledge, I thank you,” Tiyo said, nodding gratefully.  Thomas smiled, and saluted jauntily.  Tess laughed, and nudged Thomas gently, amusement twinkling in her eyes.  The human smiled, and returned to eating.
It was a few minutes later, Thomas had slowed noticeably, and was blinking wearily.  “Dang... full belly, and now I’m tired.  Not sure if it’s the food or not,” he murmured sleepily.  Tess squeezed his un-injured shoulder sympathetically.
“After the morning you’ve had, I’m not surprised.  It has been quite a full day already.  You’re excused to go take a nap.  You could use the rest to give your body time to heal.  You won’t need the crutch by the time you wake up,” she said.   Thomas looked at her blearily.
“I’m rooming with you, right?” he asked.  She nodded in answer.
“You were in room six, now you’re in room twenty one.  Derani moved your things earlier while I was running you ragged.  Go rest, newfledge.  You’ve earned it.  I’ll come wake you up in a while, okay?” Tesseth instructed.  Thomas nodded his thanks, and made to stand, swaying a bit on his feet.  Tess held him steady, and Tiyo stood, getting him braced against his body.
“Come on, Thomas, I’ll get you settled in,” he offered, helping Thomas out the doors and towards the stairs.  Tess watched them go, thinking about what to do.





“Here we are, room twenty one,” Tiyo announced, opening the door with a wing.  Thomas was surprised at how... relaxed the decoration was.  What seemed to be a tartan blanket was pinned to one wall, with almost a riot of color.  It was admittedly subdued in pleasant hues, but he noted Derani’s ocean colors woven in, Tiyo’s brown and tan, and Gareth’s black and amber were all offset by Merkus’s wheat and leather tones, Beke’s silver and forest green and Tesseth’s arctic blue and white.  The color palette was the centerpiece on the wall, but the pile of blankets and pillows around what appeared to be a heated, old-fashioned hearth warming the room was the main attraction for the rest of the space.  The same colors were splayed about, and Thomas had a sad half-smile on his face as Tiyo helped him lay down with a bit of stiffness, and surprisingly tucked him in after stoking the hearth with a steel poker.  He still looked about a bit from his new vantage point, and found his bags against one wall, untouched.
“You really are all family...” Thomas mumbled drowsily, eyes blinking slower, closing for longer as the seconds went by.
“We are.  Gryphons pride themselves on family ties.  There are exceptions, but family and honor is paramount with us,” Tiyo answered quietly, setting the poker back in its stand and giving Thomas a comforting pat, “sleep now.  You’ll feel better after a nice nap, hmm?”
“Wish I knew what real family was like.  Nothing but a tool to my father.  ‘Nother weapon in ‘is arsenal... hope I c’n prove myself” the human murmured, fading fast.
“We hope so too, Thomas.  You seem to want this very badly.  We’ll discuss it later, though.  Rest now,” the gryphon answered, standing and moving to the door.  Thomas snuggled a little more into the blankets and closer to the heat the hearth was putting out.
“Don’t wan’ hurt innocents anymore...” he whispered, and was out.  Tiyo slipped out, but couldn’t get the image of Thomas’ troubled face out of his mind.

Tess met Tiyo coming out, and they traded looks.  The duo went to find Merkus.  When in doubt, ask Father for help.





The smoke obscured much, though he could still feel the rough duracrete underneath his shoes.  Shards had been blasted free from the last couple explosions, but nothing a patch or three wouldn’t fix, getting out of there.  Bodies were all around.  The fuckin’ Ponies had actually fought back.  The prissy pastel motherfuckers had tried to *fight back*.  Well, higher body count for them.  Self-defense, and all.  The blood splatters were almost artistic.  Made him think of that one artist.  Pallack or something.  Whatever.  He was here to finish off anything left that his explosives hadn’t.
The sound of hitched, labored breathing caught his ear, and he followed the sound, to find one of them pinned under a slab of more duracrete.  Must have come down when the building blew.  The glass seemed to confirm that, anyway.  The fucking pony whimpered as it saw him.  Whimpered, like a damn dog.  He looked down into the things eyes.  His knife was heavy in hand as he leaned in.  Those eyes were a gleaming amber, reflecting his own gaze.  Blood flew in a spray and the pony breathed his last.  A shudder ran through him, and his knife was gone.  A claw, gleaming wicked talons shining, plunged into flesh and tore out a hunk of meat.  Warm, bloody, dripping *meat*.  His mouth opened wide, and tasted...





Thomas jerked awake with a start, shuddering violently.  The hearth was still warm, but the heat did not reach to that icy chill inside him.  Not again.  *Never* again.  He looked around, and saw Tess curled on the other side.  One of her ears twitched, and Thomas started again.  He moved, stiffly, slowly, when she shifted a wing and then moved no further.  He got up, and as silently as possible, slipped out the door.  Maybe a walk would clear his head.  The door closed.
Tess’s eye opened, and then closed again, nodding to herself.  Good, Father would know what to do.

Thomas padded along the plush beige carpet, rubbing his eyes wearily.  He staggered briefly, and caught himself against the corridor.  He was so weary.  That was so... he didn’t have words.  ‘Horrifying’ seemed inadequate.  Yet, his mind continued to bring the memories back, now that he’d dreamt of his... what? a potential future? That other part though.  That was what left him so cold.  He didn’t want to be some... some mindless beast.  Everything he’d seen of Tesseth, and Derani, and Gareth and the others said that that would never happen.  The dark fear was still there, though, even if it was nonsensical.  He found the stairs, and took them down to the ground floor, walking out into the lobby.  He was struck by the sight of a piano, of all things, sitting in one corner and faintly illuminated by the low lighting.  Thomas thought they must have brought it in while he was napping.  He looked around, and didn’t see anyone.
Bench pulled out, and cover raised, Thomas flexed his fingers as he settled in.  He struck a C chord, and it rang out quietly.  He smiled.  Creature comforts, this sort of thing.  He only hoped that his skills hadn’t rusted too much in the long span of time since he’d last gotten away to play.  He searched his mind, and found the song he wanted, and began to play, singing quietly.

Now you all know
The bards and their songs...
When hours have gone by,
I’ll close my eyes...

Thomas jumped as a guitar quietly joined him, and he struck a dissonant note. He looked around wildly, then froze at the sight of Merkus sitting in a chair and watching him, a large guitar in his claws.  Thomas started to move to get up, and the gryphon held up a claw entreatingly.
“Don’t stop, Thomas.  You play well,” he said in a tone that spoke of long, long nights that Thomas could not hope to fathom.  Thomas swallowed nervously, and looked down at the keys, so he didn’t have to look into those wise eyes.  A shudder ran through him, and he found his fingers at the keys again, Merkus’ voice joining his own.

In a world far away
We may meet again
But now hear my song
About the dawn of the night
Let’s sing the bard’s song...

The melody wove around him, and while Merkus’ voice was rough, he had a distinct feeling that the gryphon was more of a bard than he let on.  The tone and pitch were too practiced to be anything but.  Everybody has their hobbies, he supposed.  Something to keep them grounded.  The last strains of the song died away, and he found himself shaking, but didn’t know why.  Something warm dripped down his face and splashed on his clothes.  He wiped at his face and looked in the low light.  Water? Maybe there was a leak somewhere that they didn’t know about? He looked up at the high ceiling, past the balconies of the first few floors, but didn’t see anything.  He also didn’t notice Merkus get up and move to his side.
“Are you all right, Thomas?” he asked quietly.  Thomas was chilled again, wrapping his arms around himself.
“I... I don’t... understand...” he whispered in reply.
“Understand what?” came the query, the gryphon sitting next to him on the bench.
“Why I feel this way.  What you’re doing to me.  I’ve never felt so exposed,” he said.
“Tell me.”
Thomas swallowed back the lump in his throat and spoke haltingly.  “All my life.  I’ve just been a weapon.  A thing to hurt others with.  Humans, at first.  My best friend Barry was the first one to fight back and knock some sense into me.  Then the barrier showed up.  It was nothing but a new target for Tyler, my father.  He became convinced that his way was actually a sign from his god that he should inflict as much suffering as possible, so you’d all go away.  You gryphons, Celestia and her ponies... all of you.  I was... I was tired of it.  Tired of the hate.  Tired of the mindless rage.  I was so scared of losing myself.  If not to the things he talked about, then, somehow, I’d lose part of myself if I did convert.  The more I talk to each of you, though, the more I see how terribly wrong I was.  It hurts.  It hurts that it took me so long to wake up and realize that there was another way.”
Merkus watched Thomas, saying nothing.  Thomas closed his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Merkus.  I’m sorry for my species, I’m sorry for my own terrible actions, I’m sorry I’m weak.”
“The last thing you are, Thomas Lawrence, is *weak*.  You need not apologize, to me, or any other.  You are not your species, and you are wanting to make up for your past.  You would not be here otherwise,” Merkus said firmly.  Thomas buried his head in his hands.  His eyes hurt from crying, but he couldn’t stop.
“Merkus... who am I?” he whispered.  Merkus put a large, warm, soft wing around Thomas, who froze, then leaned in with a shiver.
“The question you should be asking yourself, is who do you want to be?” the gryphon murmured in his ear.  Thomas looked up at Merkus, who looked back with a level expression on his beak.
“I...” he started, coming out as a croak, then he cleared his throat and tried again.  “I want... to be good.  True.  Honorable.  I don’t... want to live with any regrets.”
“We all have regrets, Thomas.  No matter what the species.  Human, Pony, Gryphon, Diamond Dogs.  We’re only mortal beings.  We have regrets.  Surety of feeling, that, you can attain.  Regrets are a constant, no matter what your life is like, however,” Merkus said, getting up and returning to his previous chair.  Thomas felt compelled to follow, sitting in the chair across from him.  The gryphon picked up a longsword, the scabbard and hilt wrapped in blue-dyed rough leather over titanium alloy.  The blade almost seemed to glow in the low lighting as it was unsheathed, and Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off of it.  Merkus removed a small box, applying oil from a vial to a cloth before starting to clean it with an obviously loving touch.
“That’s a beautiful sword,” Thomas commented, watching attentively.  A sweep up with the cloth, a twist, and a sweep down from tip to guard.
“Thank you.  It’s my son’s.  He can’t attend to it right now, so I do so in his stead,” Merkus replied quietly, eyes flicking up to look at Thomas, before returning to the sword.
“Kind of you.  You must love him a lot, to do something so personal.  I know taking care of weapons is something that’s preferred to be done by oneself.”
Merkus hesitated for an instant, then nodded.  Short, quick strokes swiped along the back of the blade, working into a thin blood channel.  “He would, normally, but he’s not here.  I am, so I maintain it for him in the meantime... you remind me of him, actually.  Were it not for species, you could be twins, I think.”
A blink.  A second one.  “Don’t you think that’s over-estimating me greatly?” Thomas asked, tilting his head.
“Not at all.  You’re an emotional creature, just like we are.  Prone to anger, self-doubt, worry... not much in the way of fear...” Merkus said, trailing off as he finished his oiling, brought the blade about in a sweep, a twist, then a slide along the scabbard edge until the point found the opening and slid home with a soft click.  He began putting the kit back in order almost with a solemnity to the act.
“You’re serious,” Thomas said in a stunned tone.
“Fully.  You are a good soul, and let no one, not even yourself, tell you otherwise!” the gryphon pronounced in a fierce whisper.  Thomas stared at Merkus, eyes wide, and they locked gazes until Thomas looked away.  Merkus nodded to himself, rose, and moved to leave the room, stopping next to his chair.  “Get some sleep, Thomas, and dream well.  You have a good start here.  Let us see how well you can keep up.  Tiyo and Tesseth came to me, concerned for you.  You bury your emotions until they boil over.  It is never a sign of weakness to *feel*, either for yourself, for family, or for those you fight against.  It’s what makes you mortal, just like us.  Class with Derani is at ten a.m., and I would like to speak to you again afterwards, if I could.”
Thomas shivered a bit, then nodded.  “I understand, Merkus.  I’ll come find you after class, then.”
Merkus patted Thomas’s un-injured shoulder gently, and walked out.  Thomas stared at where Merkus was sitting, then stood up, plucking a molted feather from the cushion.  The wheat gleamed gold in the light, and he inhaled deeply.  Merkus was right on more than one account.  He put the feather behind his right ear, and went upstairs, back to the room he now shared with Tess.  Thomas didn’t notice Tess had her eye cracked open when he came back in, and he settled back into the pillows and blankets, snuggling down and tucking the feather under the softness he laid his head on.  His eyes closed, and he soon drifted off to a warm, dreamless sleep with a sigh.  It was obvious that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
‘One weight down, several left to go’ Tess thought to herself, and fluffed her feathers quietly in satisfaction.  Talking to Father always helped.
> Chapter Four:  Stone Cold Killer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter Four:  Stone Cold Killer

Six days before Christmas

“Thomas.  Come on, on your feet,” came the voice through the haze of drowsiness.  Thomas yawned sleepily and snuggled down further into the blanket.
“Mmmm... go ‘way... warm...” he mumbled.  There was a sigh from somewhere to his left.
“Last chance, newfledge,” said a male voice in a sing-song tone.  Thomas buried his head under his pillow, and a feather tickled his nose.  He inhaled the scent of warm sun, leather and metal, and he roused a little.  “Okay.  You asked for it,” came the voice again.  Thomas’s world was a wall of roaring noise moments later, and he flailed in the blanket briefly to get away from it, landing on his face as he fell out of the nest around the hearth.
“Ow... what the hell?” he wondered, rubbing at his ringing ears.  Laughter reached him, and he looked up awkwardly to see Gareth standing over him, offering a claw.  He took it, and was hoisted to his feet.
“Merkus told me you had a rough night, and to let you sleep a little longer.  It’s seven a.m., and the sun will be up shortly.  Get yourself some fresh clothes and wash up.  Breakfast after that, then you’ll have your warm-up with me today.  Going to be longer today, since I won’t be kicking your hide around the back like Tess did.  You’re still healing, after all.  Oh, and Tiyo took care of moving the meat to that other kitchen.  It’s ready for whatever you have planned,” the gryphon instructed, leaning against the wall next to the doorway.
Thomas rubbed his eyes, nodding sleepily, and staggered off to the washroom after grabbing one of his bags from where it’d been placed.  He took a speed shower, and dressed anew, coming out with his hair still wet, if combed.  Gareth nodded in approval, and led the way out, and down the stairs.  He noticed Thomas wincing a little from stiffness as he moved, and reached out with a wing to pat him sympathetically.  “Sore, yeah?” he inquired.  Thomas flinched slightly as he took the next step down.
“Yeah,” the human affirmed, looking a little embarrassed.
“Don’t worry.  Happens to everybody.  Even us Gryphons.  Just tends to take longer.  You’re getting a workout that’s unusual for humans.  Between that, and the fact that Tess broke a few things yesterday, it’s no surprise.  I’m going to wear you out, but I won’t break anything.  Not intentionally, at any rate.  Wouldn’t want to upset the medics, now would we?” Gareth asked with a chuckle.  Thomas gave him a small smile at that, as they hit the ground floor.
“I’d like to avoid that, yes.  Medical types get... creative.  I’d wager ponies even moreso,” was the answer, Thomas slipping through the held-open door and Gareth following.  Vineyard perked up her ears as they came through, and tapped a hoof on her desk to get their attention... along with Derani holding a courier at drawn bow-string.
“Hey, Thomas.  Guy tried dropping this off and running.  We grabbed him.  The package has something fleshy inside,” Vineyard said, looking a little ill.
“It’s an ear,” Beke muttered, coming in with a small box and putting it down on the desk, prompting Vineyard to leave quickly.  Thomas looked at Beke, then the box, feeling cold.  “There’s a note, too, in Common,” he continued.  Thomas moved, as if in a trance, and opened the package.  He stared, then removed the note.
“’Come back, or it gets worse’, it says... Gareth, Beke? This is my friend Barry’s ear.  He’s the one that convinced me to come here.  This is my doing.  I bear the burden of my friend now being hurt, because of me.  That courier, I’m willing to bet, is a low-ranking member of the HLF.  They likely gave him this mission to prove himself, and tortured Barry until they found out which Bureau I came to.  If I could pull a couple strings here to have you hold him, I’d like to interrogate him, find out what he knows.”  Thomas said all this in a level, even tone, completely stone-faced.  The Gryphons all traded looks, and then Beke grabbed the man by the collar.
“You heard him.  Move, coward!” he snarled, and shoved him towards the stairs, Derani keeping her bow trained on him at all times.
“Thomas,” Gareth said in his ear, putting a claw on his shoulder.
“Breakfast will have to wait, Gareth.  There’s *work* to be done,” Thomas said, a bitter note in his voice.
“I’ll get Merkus.  As our Father, the head of our clan, and the most senior Gryphon here, he needs to be present for this sort of thing.  Not a word, not a single question until he gets there.  Do you understand?” he asked, watching the human warily.
“Fine.  Make it fast,” Thomas spat, and followed after Derani.





It was a minute later that Thomas waited outside a door on the first floor, near the armory.  Derani hadn’t let up on her bowstring, and Beke had drawn his sword rather casually, watching the supposed courier.  Thomas was leaning against the wall, tapping his foot impatiently.  The sound of claws and paws on carpet met his ears, and he stopped tapping to look down the corridor.  Merkus was coming.  He gave Thomas a look, and then moved past him to unlock the door with a set of keys he pulled from amongst his feathers.  The HLF member was shoved inside, Merkus followed, and then Thomas came in, with Beke and Derani behind him.  Only once the door was shut and the room was plunged into darkness did Thomas hear the sound of a bowstring relaxing and metal sliding across metal.
“Hey, I can’t see!” protested the man.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, let me fix that issue,” Beke crooned, and hit the lights.  They blazed on with all the strength of the sun, blinding the man.  Thomas only squinted briefly.  It was almost like those old interrogation scenes from movies.  One big, bright spotlight, darkness surrounding the rest of the area.
“So... you decide to try to... what, scare me into coming back? thinking that if I just did as my old man said, that he’d let Barry go? is that it?” Thomas asked, stalking around the man.
“I don’t have to fucking answer to you, traitor!” snapped the HLF member.
“Oh, but you do.  You see, according to my old man’s own rules, you have to acquiese to anything anyone above you demands in the organization.  I’m not part of the HLF anymore, and good riddance... but blood counts for a lot, much as I despise that, too.  However, I’ve no qualms about letting my new friends here have fun with you,” Thomas said nonchalantly, and Beke smiled at that.
“Fuck you, Tommy!” came the answer.  Thomas had had enough, and he rushed in from behind, knocking the man to his knees, and ripping off the cap that obscured his face.
“Jack Connors... how’s your dad, Jackie boy? Oh, that’s right... a pony fought back and crushed his skull, didn’t he? As I recall, he was an off-duty member of Princess Celestia’s Royal Guard, wasn’t he? He must have died so disappointed, to be taken down by a pretty pony in shiny armor that could have bought a small country.  I believe Celestia gave him a commendation for saving lives, in fact” Thomas muttered, getting nice and close, holding Jack by the hair.
“I’ll see you rot, you pony-loving faggot!” Jack answered, then choked as Thomas’s hand closed around his throat.
“Tsk, tsk, mister Connors... such language.  One should have respect and courtesy for ones... betters.  Wouldn’t you agree, Merkus?” Thomas asked, looking over his shoulder, his hand not letting up on the pressure.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Thomas.  Gryphons have their advantages.  So do humans.  Being the soldier I am, however... I wonder if the HLF know what Gryphons do to those that attack them... or their friends.  If they’ve seen an enraged Pony, my my, they’ve seen a tiny fraction of what a Gryphon’s capable of.  The stories I could tell.  Humans think they’re creative?” Merkus commented, almost off-clawedly, laughing.  The gryphon leaned in, smiling, and clacked his beak.
“Oh, that’s right.  Humans are a delicacy with the rougher parts of Equestria.  Particularly the Diamond Dogs.  Meat is meat, after all, even if they prefer gems” Beke said conversationally.  Jack whimpered, and Thomas released his grip, only to have it replaced by Merkus’.
“We’re going to give you a chance to live, foolish one.  Tell us what has become of young Thomas’ friend, and we will let you go,” Merkus offered.  Thomas opened his mouth, only to be stopped by Derani’s claw on his arm.  She gave him a knowing look, and Thomas shut his trap.  There was something about the situation that told Thomas to trust Merkus.
“... Really? you mean it?” Jack almost whispered.
“Gryphons live by truth, honor, and strength.  You have my word,” Merkus affirmed.  Jack looked from Merkus, to an impassive Beke, to a stony Thomas, to a neutral Derani, then back.
“They... they move him around.  They want Thomas back.  Convinced you’re brainwashing him.  Thomas comes back, they let his friend go.  Simple as that,” Jack said, wide-eyed.  Merkus nodded, released Jack’s neck, and made a sharp gesture to Derani, who led Thomas to the door, then out into the hall, along with Beke.  Merkus stood, and backed into the darkness, framed only by the light from outside.  Merkus shut off the lights, and stepped out into the hall.
“We’ll consider your information.  Don’t go anywhere,” he said, and the door shut.  Immediately, Jack leapt to his feet, but it was too late.  He was all alone in the dark.





Jack was led out at sword point, Beke’s eyes hard and glinting under the lights, and summarily given a kick out the door.  Thomas, having followed the others down, leaned out the doorway and smiled sarcastically at him.
“Hey Jack? Deliver a message to my old man, would ya? Stop sending body parts, or we’ll start sending back bodies.  Yours, then whoever else he decides to send out.  Got me?” Thomas asked, then let the door swing shut.  Jack began walking, a scowl on his face, as he left Bureau property.  Thomas leaned over to one of the ConSec guards next to the door and very deliberately wrapped a hand around the man’s RAC-7 rifle.  His partner on the other side snapped up his pistol and trained it on the back of Thomas’ skull, while the guard and Thomas locked eyes.  The gaze Thomas bored into the guard was cold and calculating, and there was a soft growl coming from his throat.
“I’d give it to him, he looks pretty determined,” Beke sing-songed casually, folding his foreclaws across his chest, watching the interaction appraisingly.  The ConSec guard’s eyes flicked from Thomas to Beke, who nodded, and then back to Thomas.  The grip was reliquinshed, and Thomas took the rifle in his grip, checking it over and opening the door.  He sighted down the scope calmly, pausing at the sound of paws padding closer.
“I thought you said you wanted him to deliver a message?” Merkus inquired in Thomas’ ear.
The rifle cracked.  Jack jerked as red visibly blossomed from his back and dripped from his front.  He dropped to his knees, then slumped to land on his chest, landing in his own blood.  Thomas sighed and offered the rifle back to the guard, who accepted it.  He wouldn’t meet the eyes of any Gryphon present.
“I did, sir,” he said respectfully.
“Thomas?” Derani asked, concern in her tone.
“Thank you for your assistance, everyone,” he answered in a stony voice, before turning and making his way to the cafeteria.  The assembled Gryphons took one last look at the corpse, and shrugged to each other.  Not good.  Not good at all, even if it was exactly what they would do.  The emotions were another matter, or rather the lack thereof.  Merkus shook his head and went to his room to deal with the impending paperwork, while Derani headed out to prepare for that morning’s classes.  Beke followed Thomas, a curious look in his eyes.

He found Thomas walking into the secondary kitchen wordlessly, only nodding respectfully to Cayenne Pepper before he went in and picked up an apron before the doors swung shut, watched by Gareth from their usual table.  Beke took a seat across from him and sighed.
“What happened?” Gareth asked.
“Thomas... dealt with him.  Violently.  I’ve never seen anybody shut down like that afterwards, though,” Beke admitted.
“You did, once, as I recall,” Gar pointed out.  Beke blinked at him.
“I did? When?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
“After your parents died,” was the calm, matter-of-fact answer.
Beke looked at Gareth very carefully, then looked over at the closed kitchen doors.  “You think...?” he began, then trailed off.
“It’s a defensive mechanism.  You against the world.  His father is a local HLF leader, and he’s surrounded by Ponies and Gryphons, the species he was supposed to hate and despise... imagine how that must make him feel,” Gareth said.
“He’s all alone... but he isn’t!” Beke protested.
“He isn’t, no.  But that’s how he feels nonetheless.  Do you remember, after Father adopted you into our clan? What we had to do with you?” he inquired.  Beke sighed at that.
“You all took it real easy with me for about... what, six months? eased me back into things?” Beke asked.
Gareth nodded.  “Yeah.  I think we need to do the same with Thomas.  Conversion will make things easier, mind you... but we still need to take it slow.  Tesseth said he has potential, from her first training session with him.  He knows which end of the sword goes in his opponent, so he’s not a total loss.”
Beke snorted into his water at that.  “Well... you all know I’m not the kindest of Gryphons,” he said nonchalantly.
“No, but you have your moments, little brother.  Remember what it was like for you, and use that experience to deal with him.  And don’t kill him when it’s your turn to teach him how to fight.”
“You take all the fun out of life, Gareth.”
“It’s what big brothers do, Beke,” the tan and black Gryphon said, laughing quietly.
“So... should I go talk to him?” the younger asked.  Gareth shook his head.
“Let him be, for now.  Give him some time and room to think.”

In the kitchen, Thomas was almost tearing apart the kitchen.  “Where is it...” he muttered to himself, a long knife in one hand as he browsed through cupboards.  He’d already found where Tiyo had stashed the meat portions, and sliced up thirty pounds of beef brisket.  Now he needed the next ingredient for his plan.  A knock against the butcher block countertop made him pause.  “Yes?” he asked hesitantly.
“It’s Tiyo.  Do you need any help?” the Gryphon asked.  Thomas pointed with the knife off to his right.
“I’m looking for what was once called onion soup.  A dry powder mix, specifically.  Do you know where it might be?” came the query, without really moving.
“Dry soup mix? Let me look.  I assume you haven’t checked over here, right?”
“Haven’t worked my way over, no,” Thomas replied.
“Am I also correct in that you don’t want to discuss what happened out there?” Tiyo asked calmly.  He caught the knife as it was thrown, and set it on the counter.
“Not.  Particularly,” was the answer from gritted teeth.
“Fair enough.  That’s your perogative.  However, if you do, I’m here to listen.”
Thomas just began rummaging again, grumbling softly.  It was quiet for another minute or two as the pair moved through the cabinets.
“Found it! How much do you need? Looks like they’re in packets of a couple ounces each,” Tiyo called out from the rear of the space, near a line of ovens.
“I’m going to need...” Thomas started, then trailed off, searching his memory for the recipe.  “Ah, right, ten packets! It’s two ounces of onion soup mix, three pounds of beef brisket, and now we’re just lacking one thing.”
“And what’s that?” the Gryphon asked, carrying the requested amount up front, while Thomas began digging through another opened cabinet.  A can thunked onto the counter above his head.
“Beef broth,” he said, and retrieved a second can, then a third, until he had ten cans to match the packets of soup mix.  He then stood with a grunt and started opening and closing drawers.
“Now what are you after?”
“Can opener,” was the short answer.  Tiyo rolled his eyes.
“Thomas?” he said.  Thomas looked at him, and Tiyo gave him an exasperated ‘are you serious?’ look, and simply brandished a claw, talons gleaming.  Thomas had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Right... keep forgetting how sharp those things are supposed to be.”
Tiyo just laughed, and began punching holes in the cans, while Thomas retrieved the knife and began arranging a bevy of slow cookers, slicing the beef brisket and throwing the roughly three-pound hunks of meat in.  A quick addition of the onion soup mix along with the broth, cover, and turned to low, before they were all plugged into outlets.
“So, now what?” the Gryphon asked, eying the cookware.
“Now? we wait.  And I get to hope Head Chef Cayenne Pepper doesn’t try to kill me in about eight hours.”
Tiyo gave him a cock-eyed look.  Thomas grinned, a little impishly.
“The smell of cooking meat is going to drive the ponies INSANE in about four hours... Eight? If I wind up with a meat tenderizer upside my skull, I’ll have gotten off light.”
“I think it’s official.  Humans are crazy,” Tiyo said with a chuckle.
“Why do you think I want to be a Gryphon?” Thomas asked jokingly.
“And here I thought it was Beke’s charming personality and wit.”
The pair moved towards the doors of the kitchen, but Thomas stopped when Tiyo put a claw on his shoulder.  It gave him a peculiar sense of déjà vu.  “Are you all right, Thomas?” came the murmured question.
Thomas’ mood didn’t sour, precisely, but it certainly darkened.  “This is my burden to bear, Tiyo.  Please, don’t press the issue,” he said.
“I won’t... but I want to ask you.  What lessons have you been taught so far?”
“Three, from Tesseth.  I can’t hurt you as I am, keep my emotions in check, and don’t challenge a superior unless I know for certain that I can win,” Thomas said, ticking the points off on his fingers.
“Then this is lesson four.  Whether a native Gryphon as we are, a potential Convert like yourself, or a newfledge proper, know this:  You need not bear any burden alone.  There is no harm in seeking strength and solace from friends... or family.”
Thomas flinched, and gently jerked his shoulder out of Tiyo’s grip.  “I can’t afford to make friends, Tiyo.  Because of my family.  Better I deal with this alone, no one else gets hurt that way.  Only me.”
The human opened the kitchen doors and stepped out into the cafeteria.  Tiyo sighed to himself, then followed after a few moments.  This explained much.
> Chapter Five: Gryphon One-Oh-One - Part One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter Five:  Gryphon One-Oh-One - Part One

Thomas emerged from the kitchen, only glancing over to Gareth and Beke, giving them a respectful nod.  “Class time, or so I’ve been informed.  If you’ll excuse me,” he said tersely, and continued on his way out of the cafeteria, visibly trying to compose himself into a poker face.  The pair watched him go, and then looked over as Tiyo settled next to Beke with a sigh.
“What’s the damage, brother?” Gareth inquired.  Tiyo rubbed his eyes with a claw worriedly.
“Extensive.  ‘I can’t afford to trust anyone because they’ll be used against me’ kind of extensive.  This will take work.  Jenna and Jason are less issue.  Jenna’s nervous, but put a bow in her hands and she shows remarkable aim for a human.  Jason seems rather suited to my spear-fighting.  What of Thomas?” he reported.
“Definitely meant for the sword, according to Tesseth.  I’m curious how he handles a bow or arbalest though,” Beke answered with a nod, then tilted his head, “don’t know about the new guy, though.”
Tiyo turned to look at his younger brother.  “New guy?”
“Kevin Porter.  Came in while Tess was making Thomas regret wanting to fly with us.  Very solid guy.  Derani’s personal project, so he’s another new addition for now.  I like the feeling I get from him though,” Beke explained, splaying a claw in confidence.
“Hm.  Should be interesting...” Gareth murmured into his water contemplatively.





Thomas found the appropriated ‘classroom’ on the second floor, opening the door and slipping inside without a word, but still nodding to Derani.  She watched him carefully, and then leaned against the heavy Equestrian oak desk, folding her forelegs across her chest.  Thomas sat in a desk, then all but squeaked in fear when he happened to look up to see her gaze boring into him.  She glanced at the clock, and there was an almost imperceptible nod to herself.  Twenty minutes to ten a.m.  Time enough to say what she needed to, for now.
“Thomas.  I’ve been told that you’re feeling guilty, that you feel like you can’t get close to anyone for fear of reprisal from your... former allies.  We’ll be getting into this with the first day’s lessons, but I want to make this clear to you personally.  Do not feel sorry for yourself.  Do not feel guilty for the path you have traveled on up until now.  The fact you are here is proof that you want to change, that you want to find strength in a new way.  Strength isn’t always physical, either.  It’s emotional, and psychological.  You can’t do this alone.  Our clan is proof of this.  I’m here, and so is everybody else.  You want to fly with us, you need to understand that you don’t go it alone.  You don’t need to.  As a Gryphon, you’ll always have family and friends at your side,” she said firmly, gold eyes piercing into his blue-gray.
“Tiyo... said something similar a little bit ago,” Thomas mumbled, dropping his gaze.  Derani stopped leaning and moved over to his desk, putting a claw gently under his chin to make him look at her... and the fact she was smiling at him.
“Family takes care of family.  You have to let go of the past.  Learn from your mistakes, but don’t ever think that who you were defines who you are, either.  That was then, this is now.  All right?” she said encouragingly.  He just nodded, swallowing nervously, and offered a shaky smile.  She clacked her beak in approval, and the stern look faded to be replaced with warmth.
“I just... this is all so new.  I’m scared I’ll do something wrong.  The HLF is already gunning for me, and they’re using Barry as a living bargaining chip.  I’m worried for him.  He’s my best friend,” Thomas said, a concerned tone entering his voice.
“Use that fear, Thomas, to be better.  Stronger, faster, more skilled.  We’re not just teaching you combat because it’s a workout.  You control your emotions as a Gryphon, or they will overwhelm you.  You need to master it, or it will master you.  And that is unacceptable.  I’m not saying to be soulless and emotionally closed off, just to be wise.  Everything with us is amplified.  Remember that!” Derani said firmly, poking him in the chest gently.
“Yes ma’am,” Thomas almost whispered.
“Hey, Thomas?” Derani asked quietly.  He looked into her eyes.  The golden gaze held him, and it was almost as if he could see his hidden secrets displayed for her to examine as she pleased.  The look softened, and she bent down to embrace him, hugging him comfortingly, wrapping her wings for good measure, as if to shield him from the world and all its ills.  Perhaps she was.  “It will be all right.  I promise you.  Fly straight and true.  We’ll be here to guide you every step of the way.”
Thomas was at a loss for words, so he simply nodded against the warm blue and green feathers filling his vision and inhaled the scent of hot winds and teasing salt air.  She gave him a squeeze, and released him as the door opened to admit the others in the program, Jason and Jenna, followed by a well-built, stout man in jeans and a plain gray t-shirt that Thomas didn’t recognize.
“Ah, good, you’re all here.  Since Thomas has been busy dealing with some personal business,” Derani said, gesturing to him with a claw, “I suppose formal introductions are in order.  Thomas Lawrence, Jason Andrews, Jenna Ronson, this is Kevin Porter, our newest applicant to the program.  Play nice, and Tesseth and I won’t have to use any of you as moving targets... yet.”
Thomas waved to the new guy in greeting from his desk as Kevin took a seat and nodded back at him.  A small notebook thumped down onto the desk, drawing attention back to Derani.  It was quickly followed by three more, and a series of old wooden pencils, complete with classic sharpened lead points.  Each of them picked one up.  Thomas stared at his, then smiled a bit.  This was... nice.  A strange feeling, but that was the best way to describe it.
“Yes, those are real wood.  Since pencil sharpeners haven’t really been a thing over here for some time, and Ponies are more inclined to quills, never mind us and using our own molted feathers, this is a new experience for most of us.  There’s a pencil sharpener here if you need it.  Let’s begin, shall we, newfledges?” Derani asked in a rather motherly tone.  Pencils raised over notebooks attentively and she smiled, clapping her claws together.  “Then welcome to Gryphon One-Oh-One.  We’ll begin with one of the more important aspects of Gryphon culture today, and that’s forgiveness.  Forgiveness of self, forgiveness of others.  Forgiving ills done to you, even by friends and family.  There are unforgivable things of course.  Lying.  Cheating.  Dishonor... there aren’t any known rogue Gryphons in our species history, but needless to say, it’s never happened, and likely never would.  It is one of those, how would you say, an ultimate sin.”
Jenna raised her hand, and Derani quirked an eyebrow, before nodding at her.  “Question?”
She dropped her hand, looking curious.  “I’ve heard that Gryphons are rather... religious.  Is that true?”
Derani let out a slow breath through her nares, and gave something of a sad smile.  “Do you want the comforting answer, or the truth?” the aquatic-colored Gryphoness asked into the silence.
“The truth!” Thomas snapped out before he could stop himself.  The others stared at him.  Even he seemed surprised by his outburst.  Derani stared at him, and he looked back.  She nodded to herself.
“The truth, then.  We dislike the term 'religious.'  We don't believe good works can earn enlightenment.  Faith is a better word for it; in our view, the enlightenment creates good works, instead of, as humans say, putting the cart before the horse.  The ponies, at least from what I’ve seen, many of them - if not all - worship Celestia and Luna as Goddesses.  I believe they’ve said themselves not to do so, but even if they don’t do it intentionally, it’s how many of them unconsciously behave...” she trailed off, shrugging.  Thomas and Kevin swallowed in unison.  Jason looked positively disturbed.  Jenna was pensive.  Derani shook her head a bit.  “Enough heavy discussion for today, I think.  Back to lighter things.  Forgiveness is a key component for Gryphons.  One of our primary tenents of life, to be perfectly blunt, even if it’s admittedly very, very hard to forgive anyone that’s done you and yours harm.  The Gryphon tolerance level for ills done to us and ours is miniscule.  You’re all here because you want to put your old lives behind you, in one sense or another.  You want to look to a new future, not be constrained by your past.  An admirable thing.  However,  we can learn from it, too.  You humans probably have a saying along the lines of ‘those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it’, right? same goes for Gryphons.”
The lesson continued, and all four found themselves taking copious notes.  Some of them, like Thomas, more than others.  Thomas himself seemed determined to write down every single thing that came from Derani’s beak to try to commit it to memory.  The clock chimed eleven, and Thomas snapped out of his reverie of work and listening, flexing a greatly sore hand and flinching at the tingling and cramping he was experiencing.
“We’ll have a short break here.  Get up, walk around, stretch, get a drink from the cafeteria, use the facilities and all that.  Be back in ten minutes, please.  We’ll be concluding today’s lesson at noon.  You have things to attend to today, except for you, Kevin.  We still need to give you a proper orientation afterwards,” Derani called out.  Thomas rose, stretched a bit, and then headed out to do a lap around the second floor to get a little exercise in his legs.  He wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to or dreading the lesson with Gareth.  After his experience with Tesseth, he was nervous, that was for darn sure.  On his second lap, he ducked into the facilities and took care of business, washed, and then continued.  As he neared the door for the classroom again, he had to stop.  His stomach was twisting in knots, and he was twitching.  Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what.
He leaned against the wall, then put his back to it, sliding down to the warm, thick carpet and staring through the clear glass of the railing for the section he was walking through.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t concentrate.  Things felt fuzzy.  He started as someone else knelt next to him.
“Thomas? Are you all right?” said a quiet voice.  He looked over dazedly to see Suture watching him, and she blinked.  “Celestia’s mane, you don’t look so hot.  Follow my hoof with your eyes, please” she said, raising it as he would his hand, and moving it first left, then right, then back to center, before feeling his forehead and chest.  “Pupils are dialated, eyes aren’t quite tracking, you have a slight fever, and your heartbeat is erratic.  Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.  On your feet.  Lean on me,” she said, her horn glowing and helping him up.  She led him to the elevator bank, just a bit back the way he came, and he shakily pressed the button, while she tapped a small microphone headset tucked into an ear, then the button for the fifth floor when the two of them were in the car.
“Suture to Derani,” she called out.  The earpiece chirped a tone.
“Derani here, Suture.  What is it?” came the audible question.
“I found Thomas not feeling so well just a bit outside the classroom.  Taking him up to the fifth floor for some fresh air.  Apologies for the delay,” she explained.
“Noted.  I’ll inform Tess.  We can wait a little longer.  Thomas, can you hear me?” Derani asked.
“Here, Derani,” he said, unable to keep a quaver out of his voice.
“Take your time.  This is a lot to take in.  Deep breaths,” the Gryphoness instructed.
“Yes, Derani,” he answered.
“Good boy.  Derani out,” she replied, and the earpiece chirped again.  The car dinged, and the doors opened onto the fifth floor.
The floor, such as it was, was mostly unfinished, save for several standard reinforced framing walls and the elevator shaft.  Suture carefully guided Thomas through the beams and worked stone, to an opening in the wall that was exposed to the outside air, and helped him to sit down on the unfinished duracrete, hanging onto a wall partiton.
“Close your eyes.  Breathe slow and deep,” Suture said calmly, a hoof on his back.  Thomas still shook as he tried to breathe.  He felt raw.  Quiet paw-steps reached his ears, and he sat up a little, only to have a warm, ice-blue claw on his shoulder.
“Hey... do what she says.  Take it easy, Thomas,” Tess said, looking at him gently.  He nodded, and closed his eyes.  Breathe in.  Hold.  One, two, three.  Breathe out.  Repeat.  After several rounds of this, his jangling nerves calmed, and he opened his eyes again.  Suture’s horn lit, and he could feel the tingle of her magic rippling through him.
“Better.  In my professional medical opinion, it was an anxiety attack.  Probably a little too much, too fast.  Right?” she asked.  Thomas rubbed his eyes.
“It didn’t feel... real.  Not until I was in that classroom and taking notes.  I... I want this so badly... but some part of me is screaming that it’s not right.  I don’t know if it’s my upbringing, or what...” he said quietly, trailing off.
“I’d bet money on it.  Credits, bits or octals.  What you were raised to believe versus what your heart aches for.  Mind and soul at war,” Tess said calmly.  Thomas looked at her in surprise and she smiled.  “What? It’s not unique to one species.  We all have regrets and things we wish we’d done differently.  The thermal never flown, and all that.”
Suture checked a small watch wrapped around her left hoof, before blowing her mane out of her eyes.  “I have things to attend to.  We’re getting more beds and equipment in for the incoming personell after Hearth’s Warming and I have to help Poultice move things around.  Are you okay to get about on your own, Thomas?” she asked.  Thomas looked at Tesseth, who gave him a critical look-over, before she nodded.
Thomas turned back to Suture and smiled.  “Yeah.  I think I’m okay now.  Thank you, Suture.  I really appreciate it.”
The medical pony patted him lightly, and trotted off.  As soon as Tess’s ears stopped twitching, she squeezed Thomas’s shoulder lightly.
“That’s not all of it, is it?” she asked.  Thomas hung his head with a sigh.
“I just don’t know how to really put it into words.  I’m sorry for being such trouble,” he said.
“Nothing to apologize for.  Everyone has times they’re unsure in life.  For what it’s worth... I’m not sure how much to really tell you, but so far, for all you’re being ‘emotional’ and however that may be seen as a weakness by much of humanity or some of the Pony nobility in Canterlot, you really just need stability in life.  Something you haven’t had very much of, from what you’ve told us so far.  Stick with us, and we’ll get you nice and settled, though.  By the time the end of the second week of this rolls around, you will be as close to a Gryphon as can be possible without having been hatched.  And we’ll be fixing that, in a sense, by you getting offered a dose of potion.  Assuming you don’t screw up, of course.  Come on, on your feet, newfledge.  You still have to finish class.  Do you want me to stay, or are you all right?” she asked, helping Thomas up.  He brushed himself off, and took a deep breath.
“I’m good, now.  Like I told Suture, I really appreciate it.  Thanks, Tess.”
“Hey, anything for a friend,” she answered with a smile, and mussed his hair.
Thomas snorted, and smoothed it out, and the pair went back to the elevator shaft, returning to the second floor.  At the door to the classroom, Tess stopped him.  When he turned to look at her, she wrapped a wing around him tight.  “You have a good soul, Thomas.  Don’t forget that.”
With that, Tess reached back with her beak, and plucked a molting feather free from her right wing, twirled it in her talons for a moment, and offered it to him quietly, calamus-first, as one would offer a sword.  He took it reverently, looking at the feather, then up at her.
“Tesseth... what...?” Thomas started, looking confused.
“A sign of trust among our clan, Thomas.  A feather from each of us means we trust you.  A measure of faith in you, but moreso on behalf of you.  That we’re certain of our decision to take you under our clan’s protective wing, even if you seek your own path after Conversion.  Consider this my vote on your behalf, moreso because you are my ward during this time.  See you tonight, hmm? Tiyo tells me you have something planned for dinner... I look forward to trying some real human cooking for a change,” she said, and headed off down the hallway, humming to herself.
Thomas opened the door, and smiled sheepishly at Derani, ignoring the pissed off look from Jason.  “Sorry about that.  Had to sort myself out.  Didn’t mean to keep everyone waiting,” he explained meekly.
“Take your seat, Thomas.  We only lost a couple minutes anyway.  Nothing dire.  Shall we continue?” Derani asked as Thomas resettled himself with a deep breath.





The clock chimed noon quickly, and Derani smiled.  “A good first day, everyone.  Classes are every morning at ten AM.  Please be punctual.  Dismissed!” she called out.  The quartet collected their notebooks, slotting their pencils into a small divot in the desk for just such a purpose.  Thomas inhaled deeply as he stood.  Now came the point where he was worried even more than combat with Gareth.  Talking to Merkus.  He’d made a promise, and he intended to keep it, even if he wasn’t sure what to say.  He left the classroom and headed down the hallway, stopping in front of Merkus’ temporary office.  He steeled himself, then knocked twice politely.
“Enter, Thomas! The door’s unlocked!” Merkus called out from inside.  Thomas blinked, and opened the door, stepping inside.
Merkus’s office was tastefully furnished, even by human standards.  Two Gryphon-style stool chairs in front of what had to be the Equestrian equivalent of a purple heart wooden desk.  It looked heavy enough to crush a small car, even resting on the chocolate-brown plush carpet that complimented Merkus’s own wheat and leather coloration.  A decently-sized sofa, also another Equestrian import, was against one wall.  Behind Merkus was a kite shield with a symbol upon it that could only be the clan crest, made of some thick, dark metal.  Gryphic alloy, Thomas assumed.  The sword that Thomas saw Merkus taking care of hung from the wall elegantly, and a longer blade on top of it that looked like the Gryphon equivalent of a great sword.  That had to be Merkus’ personal blade.
“Sit.  Please.  We have things to discuss,” Merkus said, gesturing to a seat.  His tone brooked no disagreement.  Thomas sat nervously.  Merkus clasped his claws, watching him.  Thomas swallowed, attempting to look anywhere but at him.  Finally, he gave up, and looked at the Gryphon meekly.  “You’re scared of us,” Merkus murmured.  A statement, not a question.
“Terrified, sir,” Thomas squeaked.
“Why?”
Thomas blinked, then stared.  “Why?!” he replied with a strangled voice.  “Why?! Look at you guys! You can fly rings around most fighter planes, the talons, never mind the bow and sword proficieny, and I’ll count Tiyo’s spear expertise in there for good measure, you’re HUGE and could crush any of us humans with I’d bet not even a quarter of your natural strength and you’re wondering why I’m terrified?! You scare me to pieces! I can understand why my dad fears you guys even more than the ponies!”
“And yet, you’re still here.  You could have walked out at any time.  We would have been disappointed, of course, but not everyone is cut out for this.  It takes a certain mindset, and not necessarily a military one.  An adaptable one.  And you’re sitting right here, in front of me, and being perfectly honest.  We do scare you... and there’s something deep inside you that wants what we offer even more to pass that fear by and want to fly with us on wings of your own.  We respect that.  We admire that greatly.  I see in you the fire and will to be a magnificent Gryphon, wings spread wide and ready to take on all comers against those that would threaten all that you hold dear.  You want family you can lean on, people like your friend Barry to be a part of it, and freedom.  And, if you would desire that so badly to work past the fear of your father, and the fear of us and what we are capable of to be standing in front of that which scares you even more... then you have no fear truly left in you.  You face your fear head on and sword ready to cleave the darkness and evil from whatever realm it crawls from.  To decimate it utterly, so it may never rise to present a challenge to your way of life ever again.  That is pride in home and family that a Gryphon can appreciate.  You are a strong, brilliant person, Thomas.  You will be an amazing Gryphon.  I see that you have what it takes.  The potion will accept you, without a doubt.  I will be perfectly honest with you, in the few days we have known you, you have displayed that which we prize.  The eagerness and strength of will that shows you know how to land on your paws and claws and then take flight.  The classes are, as such, rather just a formality in your case, but the knowledge is important too.  Trust in us, Thomas, as we trust in you, and you will never fear falling again.  We’ll catch you.”
Merkus sat back, watching Thomas, who swallowed and worked his jaw wordlessly, visibly trying to come up with something to say.  Finally, his eyes met Merkus’.  “Thank you,” was all he said.  Merkus smiled.
“Go on, Thomas.  That’s all for now.  Go enjoy your time with Gareth.  You’ll learn a lot from him.  He was one of my best students,” the Gryphon said.
“You trained him?” Thomas asked, tilting his head as he got up from his chair.
“Tesseth, too.  They both served under me in a few campaigns and distinguished themselves in those conflicts.  Gar will take it easier on you.  Not by much, but he will.  Tess believes in ‘learning through pain’, while Gar will just swat you with the flat of his blade when you screw up.  Go on, now.  Don’t want to keep him waiting!”
Thomas nodded respectfully, and turned to leave.  He almost made it to the door.
“Thomas?” Merkus called out.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning his head.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the soldier said.
Thomas couldn’t hide the smile.  “Me too, Merkus.”
The door closed behind him, and Merkus smiled in the quiet of his office, alone again.
“You would be so proud to call him brother, Harkom...”
> Chapter Six:  Gryphon One-Oh-One - Part Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter six:  Gryphon One-Oh-One - Part Two

        The cold air bit at Thomas through the long-sleeved Equestrian fleece jacket he’d donned, but that was only because it hadn’t been closed, as he stepped through the back doors of the Bureau to see Gareth waiting for him.  The jacket was a surprising addition he found in the room he shared with Tess when he went to retrieve his own normal jacket from his belongings.  Attached to the fleece was a note that read “What you have won’t cut it.  You’ll need the warmth, at least long enough for Gar to wear you out.  This was donated by a few friendly Equestrian sheep that were due for a shearing.  All the others are getting the same.  Enjoy. - Derani.”
        As he put it on, he sighed.  Partially from the conversation he’d just come from with Merkus, partially from the increased warmth as he left the room, picking up his practice sword on the way.  It was a lot to think about, that the Gryphons trusted him so intrinsically.  It was strange to not want to disappoint them.  He felt like he mattered for the first time in his life.  A new, but pleasant feeling.
        His mind jerked back to the present when he stepped outside.  He did the coat’s buttons and tugged on a sash to tighten it to his body and approached his latest challenge.  He couldn’t deny he was still sore from the thrashing Tesseth had given him, but he wasn’t going to tell any of them ‘no’.  It was fun, in a twisted way.
        “Have a nice talk, Thomas?” Gareth asked conversationally, bringing his sword up in a salute.  Thomas mirrored him, and slid his right foot back in anticipation.
        “I did.  He told me that he trained you and Tess,” he replied.  Blade met blade in a soft clack, and the duel was on with a high sweeping strike from the Gryphon to meet a parry from Thomas.
        “He did, yes, along with the rest of our regiment.  Those of us that showed exceptional talent he trained personally.  Myself, Tesseth, and forty-eight others.  We were what you’d call special operations types.  A normal Gryphon can take down a Dragon with four squads of humans for support, one Gryphon to a squad for back up.  Those of us that Merkus trained can do it with half those numbers or less,” Gareth said, nodding, bringing his blade through for a series of slashes.  Thomas retreated, then lunged for the offered opening, only to be swept aside.
        “And he adopted you and the others at some juncture,” came the inquiry.  Gar raised an eyebrow along with his guard to block a stab at his shoulder.
        “That’s a real sticking point with you, isn’t it?” the Gryphon asked.  He got a baleful look and another, harder attempted strike for his trouble.  Gareth shook his head and knocked Thomas’s blade away to land several feet to one side, then gut-checked him with a firm slice, leaving Thomas doubled over and gasping for air.  “Get your sword when you can breathe again, and I’ll explain in the meantime.  Understood?” he asked, and got a nod.  “Good.  Yes.  Merkus adopted us.  Derani was the first.  Amusingly, it went in order of age.  Derani had lost everything to a Changeling incursion.  Tess and I really didn’t have much going for us beyond our military service.  Tess and Beke have one thing in common, and that’s that they were both nearly clanless.  I was pretty close to that myself.  Tiyo was almost a stereotypical wandering scholar.  The guy devours knowledge, and when Merkus offered him a place to come home to, he accepted.  Beke... was a difficult case.”
        Thomas had regained his breath and took up his sword again, holding it up in a defensive stance.  “What do you mean?” he asked.  Gar re-engaged him, locking right down to the guard, then using his superior strength to shove Thomas back, forcing the smaller and lighter human to backpedal.  Several yards of this, and Thomas came up with a way out of the lock up.  He dropped his blade and dove to one side, rolling.  Gareth made to stumble, and Thomas retrived his sword, throwing a kick at Gareth’s exposed wings.  He didn’t expect the claw to snap out and grab him in mid-air.  And hold him there, for that matter.
        “Better... you’re getting creative.  Don’t be restricted to sticking with your weapon if you can catch your opponent off guard.  Unpredictability keeps you alive and your enemy guessing,” the Gryphon said, smiling with approval.  He pivoted and lowered Thomas to the turf, where he got back to his feet and prepared to go again.  He wasn’t wearing out like he had with Tess.  Gareth took a lunging strike for Thomas to block.  “I said Beke was difficult, because I was there when he lost his parents.  Wild Dragon decided a new Gryphon settlement was encroaching on his territory and tried to flash fry anybody that disagreed with him.  Beke rather shut down after he saw his parents die.  He loved them very, very much,” he explained, and made for a cross-slash.  Thomas blocked, but he was so intent on the story that he really wasn’t trying.  Gareth seemed almost on auto-pilot... before time seemed to stop for Thomas and he found himself airborne from a strike.  He rolled and even bounced once as he hit the turf.  Somehow, he’d hung onto his sword, and he used it to lever himself up as Gareth advanced almost casually.  “Pay attention, Thomas, this is a duel, after all.  You lose focus in a real fight and you.  Will.  Die.  I understand your intrigue, but you need to learn to split your attention,” he ordered.  Thomas nodded, and readied himself.  Gareth struck with his old speed, not Gryphic standard, and there was a block, a parry, then a riposte from the human.  Gar continued.  “As I was saying, he loved his parents.  To watch them die in front of your eyes, unable to do anything to stop it, would wound even the hardiest soul.”
        “I can imagine that stuck with him for a long time,” Thomas commented, blocking a strike and answering with a lunging stab.  Gareth disarmed him, and forced Thomas to dive for his sword with an overhead slash.
        “He didn’t speak for three months.  He barely ate, by our standards.  You wouldn’t know it by looking at him now, but... well, death affects everyone differently.  It just made Beke want to fight as brutally as possible.  Remember that when you duel him, because he tends to just press the attack,” the gryphon said as Thomas recovered his blade and blocked another slice.
        “Oh, sure, tell him all my secrets!” Beke called out sarcastically from somewhere on the combatants’ right.  Thomas lost focus from the comment as Gareth swept his blade aside, then lashed out with a claw.
        Blood flew.  There was dead silence after the cry of pain from Thomas as Beke stared at them.  Gareth looked down at his bloody talons, then up at Thomas’s face dripping crimson onto his new fleece as well as the turf from three horizontal slashes from forehead, across his cheeks and nose, and his chin.
        “Ah, *shit*...” was the only thing Gareth could manage.  Thomas was silent for a few moments, then he slowly raised his right hand, index finger up.
        “Medic?” he offered quietly.  Beke started laughing.





        “You are simply hopeless! Hold still, you insane idiot!” Poultice said angrily as she disinfected the cuts, while Suture took up needle and thread with a dark look on her muzzle.
        “It was an accident, I promise!” Thomas protested, before sea green magic jerked his head to a frozen position.
        “I said, hold STILL!” Poultice’s voice was fiercer, and Thomas could only whimper, while Suture began stitching him up.  The one small mercy they’d given him was that they’d numbed the cuts along with the disinfection, so all Thomas felt was pressure.
        “It really was an accident.  I wasn’t thinking in our training session.  If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me, ladies.  Don’t fault Thomas for my mistake, please,” Gareth said, while Beke just beakclawed behind him.  The duo moved onto the second cut, eyes glittering dangerously.
        “You promised, Mister Lawrence, that you’d keep medical visits to a minimum,” Suture bit out, and gave an extra hard tug on the stitches for emphasis.  Thomas whimpered again, trying to convey that he was genuinely sorry with his eyes.  Poultice noticed, and relented, but only barely, the magical grip loosening slightly.  The second cut was finished, and they moved onto his forehead slash.
        “It wasn’t for lack of trying, I swear it,” he said, before they began stitching.
        “We’re aware.  Maybe you should be a pony instead, if this is the way things are going...” Poultice murmured, holding him still again.  Thomas grunted negatively, and glared at them furiously.
        “I think that’s a ‘no way in Tartaurus’, you two,” Beke said, now leaning against the wall.
        “Stubborn idiots, the lot of you.  By the Sisters, you Gryphons and prospective Converts are crazy,” Suture said, then finished the last stitch, going for the nanites to help with healing again.  There was another negative grunt from Thomas before Poultice released him, “What, got something to say?” the nurse asked.
        “Yeah... can I keep the scars?” Thomas asked sheepishly.  Gareth and Beke both stared at him, then began laughing uproariously.  The medics stared at Thomas, then Suture looked at Poultice.
        “Remind me again why we took this job?” Suture asked her counterpart plaintively.
        “Good Royal stipend for the next decade,” Poultice answered.
        “Right... sometimes I wonder if the money’s worth it though,” Suture murmured with a sigh, replacing the syringe in the case, and then waving Thomas off, shooing the three of them out of their domain.





        The trio met an upset Tess outside the door, and she looked none-too-pleased.
        “Gareth, why’d you cut loose like that?” she groused, falling in step with them.
        “I thought he was still focused on our fight, and not on Beke,” Gareth answered.  Beke rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
        “I didn’t think opening my beak would distract him like that, for what it’s worth,” the younger Gryphon offered.
        “*I* don’t mind too much.  I’m not dead, and I’ll have some neat scars to show off in a couple days!” Thomas said, downright cheery.  Tess just beakclawed as the clock chimed one-thirty.  “Ooh, four hours until dinner.  Wonder if Chef Pepper wants to kill me yet?” Thomas wondered aloud.
        “Why do you say that?” Tess asked, shooting the prospective Convert a curious look.
        “Because I’m cooking meat... and that smell is going to permeate the entire kitchen, probably the entire cafeteria, and potentially work its way out into the entryway, which means Vineyard Terrace might get mad at me too,” he replied nonchalantly.
        “You like courting Death, don’t you, Thomas?” Gareth asked, shaking his head.
        “Not intentionally!” was the answer.  Beke snorted.
        “Well, I think we can safely say practice is over for today,” Gareth said.
        “Awwww...” Thomas said, actually pouting a little.
        “Okay, maybe we’ve picked up a masochist instead, little brothers...” Tess muttered, grinning playfully.
        “Oh good, I’ll have company!” Beke said.
        “Nah, I was just having fun, dang it.  Sure, it’s painful, but it’s all a learning experience.  I like being able to learn to fight with something more traditional.  Swords and bows and spears were used so long in human history that I find actual combat with them in a more modern era fascinating,” Thomas explained.  He reached up to fiddle with his new stitches and got a swat from Tess along with a warning look.
        “Don’t play with those.  I hear if they have to re-stitch, they don’t numb you the next time.  As for the weaponry, don’t discount your own species’ advancements.  Sure, to us, you can’t hit the broad side of a barn without a firing team and satellite coordinates while we’re used to making multi-mile shots with nothing but our normal eyesight, but the compensations you’ve made with RAC rifles and railguns are nothing to dismiss either.  Orbital weapons, for that matter... heh.  But yes, you should get used to our way of fighting.  Tomorrow ought to be easier.  Derani’s asked to teach you.  She wants to see how your aim handles from distance, how you deal with weight and pull.  She’ll test you with both a bow and an arbalest, see which you prefer.”
        “I don’t even have to get asked for preference.  I’ve always wanted an arbalest to call my own.  The design and penetration power is just too enticing, despite the reload time between shots, but I’ll still try out a bow.  Can’t hurt to have the practice,” Thomas said quickly.  He wanted to smile, but that tugged at his stitches.
        “Taking to this faster than we expected.  Very nice to see,” Gareth said with a nod and a smile.
        “What can I say? I want this badly... I did some research before I came here, with Barry’s help.  I tried to learn everything about being a Gryphon that I could,” the human explained.
        “You can’t learn everything from books, you know.  I’m proof of that,” said a new voice.  Thomas blinked, then looked around.  They’d made their way to the entryway while they were talking, where Tiyo was just coming in from outside, brushing a few quickly-melting snowflakes from his feathers.
        “That’s common sense, Tiyo.  Life experience trumps book learning, more often than not,” Thomas said.
        “Hey, check out the newfledge.  He learns quick!” Beke snarked.
        “Have to, ya featherduster, when you have a third of the life span!” Thomas answered back, smirking.  Beke put a claw to his chest.
        “Oh, I am wounded.  Truly, I am in such pain,” he deadpanned.  Tesseth and Gareth beakclawed in unison behind them.  Thomas snickered to himself and adjusted his fleece, before nodding at Tess.
        “May I have permission to leave the Bureau, Tess?” he asked.
        She blinked at him curiously, then frowned.  “Can I ask why?”
        Thomas flushed with embarrassment, making the black thread of his stitches stand out even more, briefly.  “I need to go Hearth’s Warming shopping.  Gifts to get before the crowds are really lousy,” he explained.
        Tess shrugged, wings included, and answered, “I don’t see why not, but one of us has to go with you.”
        “No can do.  I’m getting things for all of you, too,” he replied with a shake of his head.
        “You’re under the mistaken impression that you have a choice.  Think about it.  Walking out of a Bureau with stitches across your face? yes, that will endear us mightily to the people of Trenton, most assuredly,” Tess said sharply.  Thomas flinched at that thought.
        “I hadn’t considered that,” he admitted.
        “You have to, at least on this side of the Barrier.  Sad, but true,” Tiyo said, Beke nodding agreement.
        “All right… as long as whoever comes with me doesn’t peek.  I want these to be surprises, please?” Thomas pleaded.
        “That, we can do,” Tess answered, nodding her head, “when do you want to leave?”
        Thomas shrugged.  “Now? If that’s okay?” he asked.  Beke nodded.
        “I’ll go with you,” the Gryphon offered.  Thomas stared at him briefly.
        “You.  Want to go with me,” he said flatly.
        “Yeah.  Cabin fever, as you humans put it.  I could use getting out for a bit, stretch my wings,” Beke answered, shrugging.  Thomas glanced at Tesseth and Tiyo, who both nodded.  Gareth was hiding a snicker behind a claw.
        Thomas shook his head and sighed, “I only hope I don’t regret this.”