Gilda, her mind utterly occupied, was meandering down the corridor of the Great Hold.

This was the exact place where the numerous Griffon Kings once dwelt, basking in the glory of Griffonstone and its vast belongings, unmatched by any other realm in the world. From the magnanimous High King Grover, through Gerben the Mighty, Godric the Spear, Grimhilt of the Mask, all the way to the brave Guto, named by many the “Last King”. All of those mighty leaders had their names etched on the walls of the Hold, for future generations to witness, and their reliefs were portraying them according to their majesty, wealth and power.

However, their times were long elapsed and the glory of those ages was never meant to be truly restored. It was an epoch of a new griffon ruler.

Gilda’s mind was focused on the recent events, ones that could have meant a lot more to her entire species than the forgotten, past eras. Envoys from Equestria had arrived as of late, bearing a message troubling and distressing for her.

The message of Friendship.

Friendship. A feeling that Gilda remembered from long, long ago, from times without worries or troubles, without tough decisions and tougher outcomes to tackle.

And it made her mind go abuzz.

What did Friendship mean to a griffon after all? Was it more important than wealth and possessions? Than glory and greatness? Than a chance to rebuild and unite, unite under one symbol and idol? Like in the timeless sagas passed from parent to fledgling throughout centuries.

Shame the griffons had forgotten so many of those tales already. Shame she had never paid attention to the words of her grandfather, Gruff, considering them but ramblings of a senile mind.

Her folk fell from their rightful place in history not once, nor twice, their decadence and selfishness pushing them to the brink of utter downfall. And yet, every time, they had the strength to stand up, tall and proud yet again, their feathers shining in the sun and their talons sharper than steel.

When it was Gilda’s time to do the same and prove her worth as a griffon, being granted the chance to restore the glory of her kind, she could have not passed the opportunity. Not when she had seen and believed, when it turned out that the old tales weren’t but legends and nest-time stories.

Even after all these years, she still trusted she had done the right thing.

And she was going to defend her choice if necessary.

She nearly missed the intense look from one of the armored huskarls at the entrance to the throne room.

“High Queen, you are awaited.”

“Announce me then, Garda,” she commanded, her worn-out voice still full of authority and power, matching the tone she possessed when she was named the next in the line of the rulers of Griffonstone. Feathers, how many decades ago was that? “And do so properly. Make her shiver in her little hoofshoes.”

Garda grimaced widely, opening the passage to the broad hall, the same that had served as the seat of the Griffin Kingdom’s power for generations. Once decrepit, it was now renewed and shining with treasures of gold and silver, platinum and palladium.

“Kneel and tremble! High Queen Gilda cometh!” the huskarl boomed, causing the echo to fill the chamber to deafening levels.

Gilda entered her throne room with dignity and splendor, making sure to walk slowly enough for the visitors’ eyes to properly set upon her. Her royal, scarlet shawl cascaded down one of her sides and her crown of pure gold shined with rubies, topazes and sapphires, in itself worth more than Equestria’s whole provinces.

She took notice of her main guest, the pony she barely remembered from her first and last visit to Ponyville. The local ‘egghead’, as Equestrians would have said. But Twilight Sparkle was no longer a local smarty-pants with a powerful patron in the person of Princess Celestia. She had reached the ranks of royalty and grew in size and stature, nearly overtaking her former mentor. Her mane was long and showing traces of magical energy surging through it and her eyes, full of wisdom, were locked firmly on the griffon.

Her two personal guards looked far less imposing and Gilda could spot with satisfaction that their composure was not matching that of the six sentinels of her seat of power, the Varangians. The bravest and fiercest warriors of her domain.

Gilda took her place on the granite throne, taking her time as to spare her aged hips, then rested her talons on the armrests, assuming a position of unmatched authority. Her entourage tapped their spears in unison, as to fiercely announce that the High Queen had arrived and taken her rightful place. As this loud echo rippled through the air, Gilda smirked at the shaking knees of one of the smaller ponies.

“I greet you in the Griffon Kingdom, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” she began, staring down the alicorn. “To what do we owe the ‘pleasure’ of your presence?” she inquired, making sure that the word would bite the guest harshly enough.

Twilight’s response was as calm as her eyes. “High Queen Gilda of the Griffon Kingdom, the Restorer of Griffonstone, long have I awaited to finally enter your dominion and witness the glory of your lands—”

“Spare me the diplomatic flattery, Princess, it only wastes our precious air,” Gilda interrupted her, weary of the pretense. “How dare you come to my lands and demand my attention?”

Twilight took a step forward, causing one of the griffon guards to grasp his spear more firmly. However, Gilda stopped him with a glance full of authority.

“I have arrived on behalf of Equestria, to restore the relations between your domain and ours,” the alicorn revealed with a strong voice, though Gilda could swear that a peculiar, pensive vibe was present in it.

“Relations,” she pointed out, tightening her grip on the armrests, “that you have decided to cut abruptly and utterly many long years ago.”

Twilight nodded profoundly. “That is correct. It was me who persuaded Princesses Celestia and Luna to cease any contact with Griffonstone and the griffon race.”

“I was suspecting as much,” Gilda revealed, her tone antagonistic. “Your actions were ostracizing to our nation greatly, Twilight Sparkle, you are well aware of that. Yet, as you can indubitably notice, we have prevailed even without your tampering and meddling!”

Gilda spread her talons, her gesture emphasizing the grandiose wealth all around her, from the granite columns ornamented with sheer gold to the stained windows made out of thinly cut jewels.

“Our glory is restored once more. We stand together, strong and proud. And we are ready to expand our rule at our own leisure.”

Her declaration was backed by fervent screams of her bodyguards, causing Twilight’s entourage to lower themselves in their stance, prepared for anything.

“And so you approach us now, Twilight Sparkle. And with a ‘message of Friendship’? Afraid that we shall turn our attention towards your lands?” Gilda taunted her, empowered by the support of her loyal warriors and the authority of her entire race.

Twilight took another step forward, remaining calm and composed. Yet something changed in her. Gilda could not have told at first what it exactly was. A great weight appeared on the mare’s shoulders out of a sudden, like the importance of the upcoming words was enough to push her down towards the ground. She inhaled deeply.

“I am sorry.”

Gilda took a moment before reacting. She arched her eyebrows.

“What have you just said?”

“I am sorry, Gilda,” Twilight repeated.

One of the griffon guards ruffled his feathers. “It’s High Queen Gilda!”

“Silence, Varangian!”

The berated warrior stood down, ashamed, as his sovereign fell into a coughing fit from raising her voice. After a few moments of convulsive hawking, Gilda looked back at Twilight, who was completely motionless.

“You... apologize? Now?”

“Yes...” the alicorn admitted. “For all of those years. For banning you from the Equestrian Games. For forbidding griffons to enter our borders and expelling your folk from our lands. For all of the animosities and everything that came from those, as I have failed to show that I am a Princess of Friendship above everything else,” Twilight’s voice nearly cracked as her eyes filled with tears. “I am sorry for blaming you all those years, Gilda...”

The griffon’s heart skipped a beat.

“Twilight?” she inquired as the silence was prolonging itself.

“All of those years... I have done nothing but accuse you of what happened. Despite everything, despite the fact I should have known better... I could not have stood the thought that they... that they were gone.”

Gilda remained silent, staring at the shivering alicorn intently.

“When the map sent Dash and Pinkie here, to Griffonstone, I knew there was a problem that had to be fixed and I knew they would succeed in doing so. But I was... None of us was prepared that it would ultimately cost them their lives,” Twilight paused as her gaze ventured above Gilda’s throne.

The griffon did not have to turn her head to know what the mare was staring at. Placed just above her seat, in a place of honor and esteem, was the Idol of Boreas.

Gilda closed her eyes, once more realizing the profound nature of it. It was filling her with its strength and splendor ever since she had managed to return it. It was its power that turned the declining ruin that the entire Kingdom once was into a domain powerful enough to contest Equestria and all of the other realms. And it was that exact might that changed Gilda from a brash and arrogant child into a true ruler. A queen daunting and inspirational for her people, the once again proud griffon race.

Twilight continued, unhindered by the lack of reaction from the High Queen.

“I became sour and vengeful, even though I had no reason to, no justification. I was so occupied with the thought of... losing my friends, that I completely forgot that Dash was your friend as well...”

Gilda’s eyes shot open in an instant as she looked at the alicorn with mounting consternation.

“My friend...” she whispered blankly.

A sad smile danced on Twilight’s lips. “I suddenly remembered that, despite her words and actions, Dash never ceased to recall you and the times you two shared together. Not even the incidents in Ponyville changed that. I might be a Princess of Friendship... or at least aspire to be... but I have learned what it means to share that magic from her.” She paused briefly. “And Pinkie Pie? She never thought ill of you, ever. I still remember how excited she was that she would see you again...”

Gilda stayed silent the whole time, her mind blank, as Twilight kept talking. She felt her beak shaking as her affliction, that familiar pain, one that she was trying to suppress for decades, began emerging once more in her heart. With a force greater than ever.

Twilight bowed her head. “But now, it is time for me to finally accept what happened. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie helped you restore your Kingdom to greatness with their sacrifice. And, just like their cutie marks vanished from the map, my pain must also vanish so that we can share in the greatest magic of all.” The alicorn stared up, hopefully and valiantly alike. “And so we extend our hoof towards you, hoping that we can recover the treasure that was once lost between our realms and finally share in the unmatched gift of Friendship.”

Gilda looked into Twilight’s eyes and the pain in her chest only multiplied in its volume.

None of her power, her pride, her glory, could match that alicorn’s trusting and open stare. No amount of boasting, intimidation or threats would have been enough to beat her conviction. And none of the griffon’s jewels, gold, none of the vast treasures of her people mattered when Gilda’s heart was tearing itself to pieces.

After a lingering minute, the griffon declared in an anguished tone. “I... I need time, Twilight...”

“Of course, High Queen,” the alicorn replied, respectfully. “I know we have a lot to answer for... That I have a lot to answer for. I shall allow myself to return to Equestria and patiently await your reply.”

Gilda but nodded instinctively. Twilight curtsied before her and left the throne room, her entourage eyeing the Varangians as they bid farewell to the delegation with their fierce stares.

The echo of the door had died in the room long before any of the warriors dared to turn to the queen, sitting motionlessly on her magnanimous throne.

“High Queen?”

Gilda did not reply, staring blankly into the distance.

Her ears could not hear the question of her loyal, zealous subject, only the screams of two colorful ponies fading in the howling and merciless winds of the Abysmal Abyss.

She could not see the splendor of her Great Hold and the magnificence of her belongings, only the look of horror on Rainbow Dash’s face as Gilda undid the rope that the pegasus and Pinkie Pie were holding onto.

And she could not feel the pride of her race, the glory of her Kingdom, the restored might of Griffonstone, but only pain, filling her heart with torment.

A tear made its way down her face.

“High Queen, are you alright?” another question came from one of her warriors.

Gilda mumbled something incoherently.

“... Your Majesty?”

In the stillness and grave silence of the resplendent chamber, a faint echo carried around the words filled to the brim with anguish over a treasure forever lost.

“Junior Speedsters are our lives...”