Dawn rose above Belfast to the cries of seagulls taking to the air above the harbor, eager to get the earliest spoils brought by the shifting tide. Those cries were what woke up Micha, the hen slowly opening her eyes to the sight of the dimly-lit suite she was in.

Following the birthday dinner in the ballroom with Vadim, they had taken things to the next level inside of a replica First-Class suite. She didn’t know how close to the actual thing the room was to Titanic’s cabins, but the decor sure didn’t disappoint: they had a four-poster bed in a corner of the room, draped in royal blue sheets with silky curtains, positioned just the right way as to give her a perfect view of the entire suite.

Varnished wood panels covered most of the walls, their dark brown colors and intricate carvings giving a warm atmosphere to the room to go with the dark blue wallpapers that occupied any flat surface left behind by the panels. A thick carpet matching those colors also covered most of the floor, with an exception made for the couple floor tiles near the bathroom’s door –the sole element that didn’t match the original Titanic’s cabins-. Furniture in the room was as intricate as the walls themselves: a fancy wardrobe, a coffee table with a couple seats, a leather lounging chair, all of them exact copies of what Harland and Wolff originally manufactured themselves for their Olympic-class liners. The atmosphere would have been perfect, had it not been for the discarded clothes littering the floor, along with a couple used condoms and empty wine bottles.

All of the porcelain fixtures lining the walls were dark, only sunlight seeped in through the curtains on the opposite side of the room, their presence hiding a small window architects unfortunately couldn’t have designed to match a porthole in design.

Vadim’s breath rustled her chest feathers. The griffon tom was wrapped comfortably around her with one wing protectively over her. His scent permeated her nostrils –along with the notable smell of sex in the air-, its presence alone evoking soothing feelings in the hen, primal griffon instincts echoing words like ‘mate’ and ‘mine’ in the back of her mind.

Perks of being mated to a griffon being… downy feathers and fur sure made for an extra comfy pillow she was all too happy to exploit, nuzzling the crook of his neck and setting her head back down for some more snoozing.

Her stirring must have been enough to wake Vadim up because the gray falcon griffon soon opened his eyes, blearily blinking a few times and clicking his beak repeatedly before he lovingly gazed into her own yellow irises.
“Dzien dobry...” He mumbled. “Had a nice birthday?”
“The best.” She replied, gently nipping the underside of his beak. “I’m gonna have a hard time outdoing you, you know?”
“Meh, you got time. Like… four months. What time is it?”
“Still got an hour or two before we’re needed back in the fleet. Spooning?”
“Yeah… God know I could use some rest.” He chuckled. “Wanna preen?”
“Thanks I’m good. Did that Monday already.” Micha said, hefting a wing to show him her still pristine primaries.

There was a pause, and she caught an awkward glance from her mate, as if he was trying to get the words out.
“Something the matter? Is it about work? Today’s recce?”
“Nah it’s not that.” Vadim shook his head vehemently. “Though I wish I could go out in the countryside with Aleksei like you.”
“Eh, what can I say? Managed to bullshit something about them needing a sniper to accommodate for the longer ranges. Plus there’s the hunting the Captain approved of, I just need to find where to do it.”
“Bullshit indeed.” He smiled, a very avian trill escaping his nostrils in amusement. “No actually… I was thinking about kids?”
“Andy you mean?”
“No głuptaś!” He chuckled. “I meant making one.”

Micha blinked owlishly at him.
“Oh...”
“I’m sorry.” Vadim apologized, his tail wrapping around hers to give a comforting squeeze. “I… it’s just I’m curious how you think it’s going to be in the future.”

She took a moment to formulate a reply.
“I’ll admit… I just haven’t thought about it. Not seriously at least.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Hell yes! Of course!” She exclaimed. “Just… you know it’s complicated. We’re busy already, and we’re kinda lucky Andy’s so self-sufficient as is.”
“And that she got wuj Rahul to look after her when we’re on watch.”
“That too.” She nodded. “So...”
“When do you think we’ll be...”
“Ready?” She completed. “I don’t know… maybe we’ll need more stability to form a family. An actual family.”
“There’s this thing I heard Roberto discuss with Alej’ and the Captain. Kitten’s evaluating locations for a headquarters. I didn’t eavesdrop for too long, and either way I don’t think they’ll keep it a secret but what do you think if we had a base ashore?”
“That’d do. They got any location yet?”
“No, just a statement about what they want. A harbor of course, a repair dock, shore tanks, enough accommodation and storage,… you know how it goes.” He shrugged with his wings. “But that would do? Really?”
“Yeah I guess...” She trailed off. “A proper house, not just a cabin...”

Idly, she kneaded the mattress with her paws, rubbing her thighs together self-consciously. The idea that she could now have life growing within her… she was already accustomed to the changes the transformation had inflicted on her sexuality, but to actually bear children (or cubs in her case) felt like such a huge change. Like the coin had been flipped over, and she wouldn’t even know how to do it properly.

Because griffons didn’t mother their cubs the same way humans did obviously...

Vadim noticed her distress and nuzzled her neck to comfort her.
“I’ll be with you you know. Always. That’s how griffons work remember?” He promised. “By the way, you think you have a preference yet?”
“Preference? Name ideas you mean?”
“Not quite. You remember what you can do to bear cubs?”

She did. Griffon reproduction had its… oddities, to put it mildly.

One: provided she had unprotected sex once, she’d go into estrus the next day. Not hard to manage provided Vadim always had condoms on claw, and probably better than human reproduction. No eggs wasted that way.

Second was that she had a choice, in a fashion. She could have the kids (griffons always came in clutches of two, one per ovary) either via egg, or via pregnancy, depending on how hot she was during the first two weeks of gestation. Keep it hot enough, and she’d be laying a pair of eggs four weeks after that.

Via pregnancy she’d otherwise be spending 32 weeks with the kids inside her. Granted eggs weren’t any faster but she wouldn’t have to carry them all the time.
“Eggs, definitely eggs.” She told him. “And tata’s gonna be helping with the incubation.” She added jokingly as she jabbed a talon against his chest. “And that includes feeding them. If I’m gonna puke down a fledgling’s beak, then so are you.”

Vadim grimaced. Yeah, maybe that part in particular wasn’t as glamorous as it was for humans.
“Guess I’ll have to.” He conceded.
“It’s just as weird to you as it’s to me, believe me.” She leaned against him as one of her talons pensively drew circles on her belly fur.

They stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other’s warmth before they eventually had to get up, both collecting their discarded clothes and heading for the suite’s bathroom to wash off the scent of sex that still clung to their feathers.

Vadim had made sure there would be water running the day prior –not too much trouble as long as you know what to look for in the building’s utilities-, so he was all too happy when they both sank in the steaming waters of the large marble bathtub. The thing was almost big enough to classify as a little pool.

And he totally enjoyed the sight of his mate’s lithe form half-covered in foam. Griffons were as supple as cats, so they had no problem reaching any part of their body they needed to. Hell, as he was seeing even their tails were pretty good at it too: Micha had managed to grab a loofah in her tail which she was using to scrub between her wings while her talons worked on her underside.
“Say Vadim...” She said.
“Yes?”
“I heard from Angelo there was this expedition they were going to do with the trawlers.”
“Oh yeah. I had a word with Roberto over it. Turns out it’s a bit complicated. Remember the art retrieval we do?”
“Uh-uh.”
“And the fact that Fugro’s crew is still unarmed?”

Through no fault of their own. It was just that neither Amandine nor Rhine had enough spares in their respective armories to equip the whole crew.
“Go on.”
“Well the Captains didn’t think we could just grab art pieces from here in Belfast without upsetting the locals.”
“No shit.” She rolled her eyes.
“Well, pair that with the fact we’re pretty sure the IRA took all the guns around here regardless of what they claim, so they decided we should check out Londonderry up north. Town’s pretty heated in its reputation, so there should be plenty of weapons at the police station to retrieve. And any art or relics we can find too. Too late to enlist for the expedition by the way, they already got the crews for the trawlers plus extras.”
“Shame. Who then?”
“They’re sending two trawlers with the Greek twins from Rhine on board. One is a diversion so the locals will think they were just out fishing when we unload frozen fish, the other will actually go there. I think the one with Nikolaos, not sure. Since it’s Nikolaos… then that means they’ll send Diethelm and Mikhail as boat crew, plus three extras. Marta as medic, Geert is detached there too as lead since Nikolaos doesn’t classify as Officer and...” One of his talons poked through the bubbly surface of the bathtub to tap against his beak. “Ivan, I think. Since she’s always on Geert’s watch as helmsman… or helmshen rather.”
“Lucky them, doing tourism while we’re stuck in Belfast.” Micha drawled.

That got her a talon flick upside the head from her mate.
“Kurwa! The Hell was that for?!” She yelped.
“You got no right to complain Miss I’m-going-on-recce-today.”
“Right… my bad.” She smiled sheepishly.

Vadim smirked right back, both his claws suddenly diving under the water’s surface.

She stared at him blankly for a second before he suddenly lurched on his hindlegs, catapulting a huge wave right on her face. She squawked sharply, coughing up a bit of soapy water before addressing him a playful glare.

“That’s it! You’re on!” She laughed.

Just as Micha had told Vadim, it was only a matter of hours before the hen found herself grabbing her bolt-action rifle from the armory and heading for the car deck where Aleksei awaited in one of the Defenders 130. The hippogriff was fiddling with one of their long range radios as she chatted with Scarface and Radiant.

Yeah, headed for the countryside as they were, they’d need to take one in backup of their regular satcom gear. Normal handheld VHF just wouldn’t do. Come to think of it, the radio she was busy with was part of the gear they had taken from the navy base way back in Zeebrugge: a PRC (or was it VRC?) manpack radio supposedly meant to fit either on a vehicle’s dashboard or in a backpack. A couple more models of various brands had joined their stocks later down the road when they raided the Danish base of Slagelse and the other one in Sweden where they got the CV90, but barring the encryption systems (that they removed anyway), the workings and frequencies were essentially the same.

Though Micha doubted any of them would fit inside a backpack anymore after the whole engineering department got done retrofitting them. Larger antenna, beefed up receiver and completely modified modulation… Maybe they’d overdone it, then again they had some genuine electronic nutjobs on board, with most of the blame resting on Carlos, and maybe Roberto to an extent. Either way, the bastardized VRC/PRC radios had plenty enough range to be taken out in the countryside.

“Hey there, where’s Thanasis?” She asked as she strode up to the group.

“Resting.” Aleksei immediately replied. “Yesterday’s stunt with the engine left him completely exhausted. There’s enough of us with you in the team anyway, so that’s not going to be a problem. You got the charts by the way? I don’t like relying entirely on GPS.”

“Printed them this morning. You know how to read UTM maps?” Micha shrugged off the backpack she was carrying and handed her friend a couple folded sheets of paper.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The Latvian nodded. “Dad was National Guard, he taught me when we went hiking. By the way, how was...?”

“Lovely. Can’t say many can claim they’ve slept in a Titanic suite.” She smiled. “Back to the patrol, what’s your plan?”

Aleksei jerked her beak towards the hood of the Defender, motioning for her team to gather round for a quick brief as she laid down the charts, twirling a pencil in her talons.

Her route was actually rather simple, she explained. They’d first head to Carrickfergus to get a quick update on the status of the colony before veering north to start a wide circle around Belfast’s general area up in the hills. Going by the path she drew on their map, they’d reenter the town from the south right where they needed to quickly get an update on the IRA folks at the City Hall. No one raised an argument against her plan, so they got underway in as little time as it took to put the radio and maps in place on the dashboard.

Behind the wheel, Aleksei pressed her hoof on the gas pedal and gunned it, the Defender’s turbo whistling its tune as they drove past the checkpoint marking the end of the security perimeter of the repair yard. They could all hear the mudflaps clack in the wind, and the wheels kick up some spray whenever they passed through the puddles that accumulated in the depressions of the concrete that made up the quays.

As often as it rained – frequently enough to make fair-sized puddles-, they did enjoy a clear sky when they left.

“Confident in your driving, uh?” Scarface commented as he felt his superior gun it.

“Please...” Alek rolled her eyes. “It’s a Defender. Cool as they look, we ain’t going anywhere fast. Plus what do you fear might happen? Codsworth fining us for speeding?”

“Eh, I’m no judge of character but he looked grumpy enough to actually do it when we met him.”

“Fair enough. He did greet me with a complaint.” She admitted. “By the way, it’s kinda dull in here, anyone wanna put some music.”

“Got just the thing for you kiddo.” Scarface immediately replied, pulling out a CD and inserting it in the truck’s player.

It took a minute for the music to pick up its beat, some old-school rock tune Aleksei and Radiant quickly found themselves bobbing their heads to in rhythm. She didn’t understand a word of what the singer what saying, but it was kinda catchy to her ears.

Micha however, wasn’t.She gave the Bulgarian gargoyle a questioning glance, to which he only replyed with a knowing grin.

“What the hell Niko?” She finally said when the second song of the album began.

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” Radiant blinked. “The music’s good.”

“C’mon Alek’, don’t tell me you don’t know what he just put on?”

“Nah, no clue.” The driver shook the wheel.

“So tell us, Officer...” Scarface chuckled. “What’s the matter with my taste in music?”

“You- this..ugh…” She sniffed before shaking her head. “I thought Bulgarians didn’t get along with Serbians, so why in all circles of Hell do you have Yugoslavian rock?”

“I could ask you how you know it’s Yugo rock in the first place you know.”

Micha’s warning look was enough to tell him he shouldn’t.

“Ok fine.” He relented. “Story time I guess? My first car, it was a second-hand Yugo I bought from… somewhere shady. Shady enough that I had to check it for blood stains and a corpse in the trunk. Didn’t find any, but the previous owner had left a tape of Kerber in the deck. Not much of a fan since I barely understand a word of Serbian, but the tune was kinda catchy and it was the only tape I had at the time. Plus it’s a bit of a nostalgia factor: damn car broke down all the time, and I’d put on the music while I fixed it.”

He paused.

“Come to think of it… it might be because I spent so much time fixing my own car that I wound up making it my job… even if it was with the army at the time.” He added as an afterthought. “In short: me old, me nostalgic, don’t understand lyrics, tune good. Simple enough for you, kids?”

The truck’s cabin was silent for a minute.

“Humans are weird.” Radiant finally said to conclude the conversation.

And in the back, Kerber’s singer kept spouting catchy gibberish to all of the truck’s occupants.

Inspecting the Carrickfergus colony was a mere trifle they got done with in a quarter of an hour. Underwhelming as always, Codsworth was now entirely out of ammunition for his pistol after they got attacked by a couple escaped zoo animals, leaving him with only his baton for defense, along with makeshift weapons and gardening tools used by the rest of the colonists.

The unicorn pleaded them to lend him some ammo. To no effect unfortunately: their hands were tied as the Captains didn’t want to be seen arming either the Loyalists or the IRA.

Switzerland clause at play.

There were a couple improvements though. They had managed to raid a DYI store and had started retrofitting the castle and its ground into a proper inhabitable building after getting some advice from them. Greenhouses had popped into existence inside the courtyard, along with the beginnings of a small outer fence that would encircle both the castle, their inn, and part of the marina so they’d have a protected quay. A tiny boat was already tied up there so that they’d be able to gather food from the many shellfish beds in the lough.

Soon enough, the Defender left Carrickfergus behind to begin the climb up the hills north of town The relatively urbanized areas along the shoreline soon traded place with more greenery the further inland they got, up until all there was to be left of civilization were a couple lone houses and farmsteads plopped down here and there between the pastures.

Them seeing proper Irish countryside at last did make them notice something: the trees, or the relative lack thereof rather. It was an odd thing coming from an island that was frequently praised for its greenery, but in all likelihood that reputation was owed more to the vast expanses of pastures than it was to the forestry. Now, there were a couple forests and groves here and there, but they were all situated around reservoirs, and they only had a single species of pine tree in them, most likely for lumber exploitation and firewood. Pretty much the standard fare for landscapes in the British Isles: forests were already rare because of scars left behind by prehistoric farming turning lush forests into heath, and pioneering the industrial revolution and building hundreds of wooden vessels for the Royal Navy had further accentuated the rarity of wood in the isles. You’d have to go deep in the Scottish Highlands if you wanted to find anything that might resemble old-growth woods. Mainland Europe had, in contrast, been far more diligent in maintaining and expanding vast swathes of forest like the Schwarzwald, the Ardennes, or even the Polish primeval forest.

That absence of forestry made the countryside appear surprisingly barren despite the pastures, even though short waist-height hedges separated many of them when the locals could not afford to pile up enough rocks for the signature walls that kept the sheep herds in check. Sheep that had now gathered in herds so massive they created white wooly blobs over the horizon. Ireland’s insular status kept it free of predators, so the worst thing the herds would ever fear would be the odd monster and escaped zoo animals, and the latter wouldn’t last once winter rolled in.

At least there was a benefit to the absence of forests in the countryside: when paired with the relatively smooth terrain of rolling hills and drumlins, very few things impeded sight lines during their recon operation. Micha had no difficulty surveying the area for anything worthwhile through her rifle’s scope.

“Looking for something in particular?” Radiant asked.

“Hunting spots.” She replied. “We’re running out of fresh meat and I was told griffons on your planet used that as a bonding activity. Plus, haven’t got the chance to go hunting in years.”

“Is there even anything worth hunting on the island? I mean, I don’t see much ‘round here except for cattle and wild dogs.” Aleksei pointed out.

“Really? You didn’t see anything?”

“Okay, maybe I’m blind, or maybe you got the instincts to spot them anyway, griffon. So shoot.”

“Small game mostly, pheasants and partridges running around in the hedges.” Her beak creased in a predatory smile. “And I spotted a nice little extra around one of the reservoirs.”

“Am I the only one that’s a bit uneasy at how casually you talk about eating the flesh of the living?” Radiant grimaced.

“Depends. Believe it or not I’m not actually as comfortable eating meat as I used to be.” Aleksei admitted. “Bet it’s because hippogriffs are supposed to eat fish. You fine with fish Rad’?”

“Absolutely. There’s a bit of a stigma against it among ponies in Equestria, but it’s only cultural and I’m past it.”

“How come?”

“I think I told Angelo once. Before volunteering to join the Equestrian Relief Effort, I was hanging a lot with the hippogriffs at Mt Aries. Pegasi and hippos’ get along pretty well I can tell you.” He said. “To the point where some ponies back home found me a bit… weird, to say it politely.”

‘So that’s why he’s been flashing over me…’ The thought flashed inside Aleksei’s mind.

She blinked.

Why was it only a couple days after the duct keel incident that she realized that? Stupid!

The rest of the recce team wasn’t privy to the inner monologue of the hippogriff sitting behind the wheel, though there was one pegasi inside the cabin that was sneaking looks in her general direction –which she made a point of ignoring despite the blush that was creeping its way underneath her facial feathers-.

Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she decided to focus on the road and the recce they were supposed to do.

Later on they spotted a couple quarries, one of them already inhabited by quarray eels that they made doubly sure they drove a wide circle around. Even Micha’s .308 rifle wouldn’t have been enough to reliably harm them.

Villages and clustered farms flew by too, all of them completely deserted save for maybe some abandoned cattle and animals, or one pack of timberwolves that they easily dispatched with long-range fire courtesy of Micha along with a couple well-placed fireballs from Scarface.

Because yes, of course the gargoyle had been experimenting with magic. To the point where he’d consider he had three combat spells available: a variant of telekinesis he could use as a shield to redirect projectiles, the basic fireball he copied from a spell tome, and one ‘light orb’ that could act either as a parachute flare at night, or as a flashbang in a pinch.

And with the ability to neutralize them at a distance with a fireball, the self-reassembling logs weren’t much of a threat anymore. Unlike the quarray eels, those they’d leave alone. Scarface wasn’t quite ready for round two, one scar was enough as is.

They didn’t really go that far north before looping back west towards Lough Neagh. Going any further north wouldn’t have made much sense as their maps only showed some isolated hilltops where the only passerby’s to ever come through were beginner-level hikers and shepherds looking for an isolated place to do unspeakable things to their sheep. Chances to find any survivor there were astronomically low, so they changed direction as soon as they came in sight of the yellowish, moss-covered hills.

Lough Neagh was a lot more inhabited than the hills they’d just left, most likely because of the importance it carried as a large freshwater source. Farms and mansions started popping up along the road the closer they got to its shores.

Being the single largest lake in all of the British Isles, Lough Neagh was considered a strategic piece in the region’s workings. It’s importance was such that five of the six counties that made up Northern Ireland had some kind of land access to it. Aleksei’s team eventually reached it through Antrim, and unfortunately the little town wasn’t much of a sight anymore. At some point after the Event, a fire had ravaged most of the buildings and the surrounding area, leaving behind nothing but ruins and vast swathes of burnt suburbs before it petered out when it ran out of buildings. The cause was in all likelihood the wrecked plane they found in the ruins, its carcass oddly devoid of corpses.

At best, only twenty buildings still stood in town amidst the ruins.

The international airport directly south of Antrim wasn’t any better, if less charred. Not a single sign of intelligent life was to be found there, and Aleksei was ready to call it quits before she finally spotted something. A thin smoke column rising up from near the shore of the lake, which they spotted once they parked atop a hilltop for a quick break.

“’bout damn time we found something.” Scarface grumbled, lowering his binoculars. “You got the location narrowed down on the map?” he asked Alek.

“Yeah.” She replied, having laid down the map on the hood of the truck. “That’s definitely a farm. Buildings on the map look like a stable.”

Radiant quickly flew up in the air and confirmed her assumption. Over in the distance, the Pegasus could easily see a cluster of buildings with a cottage, grain silos and a couple corrugated-steel prefabs that reflected the sunlight like dirty mirrors.

Getting closer wasn’t much trouble, and revealed the farm was pretty much like every small-scale European farm from before the Event. They found it tucked in its own little corner of countryside along a narrow, poorly maintained road with tall hedges on either side. Concrete slabs and low-grade gravel covered the ground around the equally cheap and inelegant buildings around it, sending out vibes that screamed ‘utilitarian’ out of every possible orifice.

The place also bore a relatively unkempt air to it (in addition to the odorant air that permeated all farms) with tools strewn about and the farming vehicles messily parked where their owner had left them, in addition to the various mud stains and all the dust.

Said owner didn’t wait long to turn up upon hearing the sound of their engine, as a stocky brown dragon wearing nothing but a blue set of coveralls strode up to them, an Irish Setter quietly trailing behind him when he exited a stable from where they could hear the mooing of cows.

They all got out of the truck to greet him, making a point of keeping their weapons slung over their back.

“Hi there sir.” Aleksei greeted him, extending a claw. “I’m Third Engineer Klavins.”

“O’Connell.” He gruffly replied as he bent down to shake the proffered claw. “Watcha doin’ her’?”

She didn’t miss the careful glance he gave towards their weapons and flak jackets.

“Exploring.” She said. “We’re sailors, from Belfast-“

“IRA?” He interrupted.

“No, we’re not with the IRA.” She shook her head. “We had to stop by at the repair yard to fix our ships. Collision. We just want to stay as neutral as possible.”

The brown dragon crossed his arms and stared her down for a couple seconds.

“We’re willing to trade.” She added.

O’Connell smiled.

Reaching an agreement wasn’t difficult. If anything, O’Connell’s accent was the biggest hurdle they had to wade through. He had a lot of stuff they were interested in, just as they had stuff he was willing to trade for. Most important of which, was mechanical expertise and fuel. His farm had a fleet of tractors, trucks and trailers that were in dire need of maintenance, something he was willing to exchange food for, including live chickens and a couple heads of cattle they’d slaughter for food.

Having brought Scarface along made it even easier. Him being the de-facto head of Amandine’s vehicle bay let him know precisely how long it would take to repair them all, and which of the vehicles he’d need to have towed back to Belfast for repairs in his shop.

Hell, they even promised O’Connell they’d sell him a fuel-recycler when Schmitt got done with her first prototype. That alone would be worth a couple heads of cattle more, and it was something the brown dragon was 100% intent on buying when they told him that, yes, fuel could and would spoil within a few months.

O’Connell’s tale itself wasn’t particularly unique. He just woke up one day in the wrong body and immediately set to fixing his farm and gathering as much of the stray cattle as he could, be they chickens, cows or sheep. The sole real problems he’d had were that he needed to convince his dog he wasn’t an intruder and fending off some small-sized monsters with his 12 gauge.

Which included a lone cockatrice that almost managed to petrify him before he discovered humans could shrug off and even resist the spell with enough force of will.

That much Aleksei attributed to transformed humans still producing magic on their own. That might be enough to disrupt curses laid upon them.

He didn’t even miss civilization that much. Then again, he himself admitted he’d always been a loner, and Aleksei assumed him being a dragon probably made that even worse.

As for Antrim’s fate, he blamed on the red dragon that crashed the plane in town. He hadn’t seen the hatchling ever since, but he was pretty sure she’d survived.

An hour later, they left with the last details of the deal hammered down. Another team would deal with picking up the food and damaged vehicles later on; they had a patrol to finish.

“Weird guy…” Radiant commented as soon as their Defender left the farm behind.

“How so? Sounded pretty normal to me, at least for a farmer.” Scarface asked, the gargoyle distractedly tossing a light orb from one palm to the other.

“Normal? Where I’m from dragons live near volcanoes. At best you’ll have teenagers working in the heavy industry and foundries because it’s easy for them. But a bucking farm? Faust toss me in Tartarus but that’s the first time I’ve even imagined a dragon could farm.”

“That odd then?” Aleksei quirked her head.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “That odd.”

Of course the patrol couldn’t just have ended the normal way with a quick visit at the City Hall.

It was about when they were nearing the outskirts of Belfast that Aleksei felt a tug. Nothing strong, just a feeling similar to that she had when she shifted between avian and aquatic form, except it was drawing her towards something.

Something strong, and intrinsically powerful. Magic, quite obviously.

It needn’t be said they had to investigate. That was the point of the recce after all, so she took the next turn at the crossroads despite the deep feeling of uneasiness that was creeping up in her guts. The others noticed too, as shown by the deep scowl on Scarface’s muzzle and the way Micha’s talons drummed against the stock of her bolt-action rifle.

Apparently whatever was drawing their attention was situated on the southern edge of Belfast near River Lagan, way out of the residential districts, but not so far out that it would have been in the countryside outright. Instead it was surrounded by a couple parks on one side with a chapel, and two golf courses built along River Lagan on the other.

And ‘it’ was actually a shallow crater, some 200 meters in diameter.

Aleksei had to pause when she got a proper look at it. There it was, right in the middle of what must have been a field at some point. The field ended abruptly when a 3-meter-tall dirt berm rose in a circle around the lip of the crater, perfectly shielding its interior from view by outsiders.

They parked the Defender nearby before carefully walking over to the crater and climbing atop the embankment.

“Well I’ll be...” Scarface muttered in Bulgarian at the sight of what was inside the crater.

Now, he was aware of what Mikhail had seen at the convergence point in Norway, so he knew Earth had its own brand of ancient magic. But reading a report of it and seeing it for himself were two very different things. In front of him, the ground sloped down softly towards the center of the crater, covered in a grass so perfectly trimmed and of such a verdant green color that it gave the entire place an eerie appearance.

It was as if they had stepped inside a bubble the moment they reached the top of the embankment. In fact… As he looked up he could see the sky had darkened significantly, taking on a hue more befitting of a sapphire gemstone than of the bright blue sky. The clouds were gone too, as was the wind.

But the grass and the sky weren’t what drew the most attention, no. They just enshrined what lay in the center of the crater: a Celtic passage tomb, its stones half-collapsed, so old and weathered they were perfectly smooth save for the multicolored lichen at their base. And these stones were radiating power. A maelstrom of pure white magic rose up above them, a translucent column of power that reached for the sky.

To his profane eyes, it looked like the stones were drawing power from the area, likely feeding off the intense field of magic brought on by the Event. Little white specks the size of fireflies rose up from the lawn at regular intervals, to be sucked in through the magical vortex tied to the stones and sent… somewhere.

“Eh, is this place on the map?” Micha quickly asked.

“Eeyup.” Radiant confirmed, map held open between her wings’ primaries. “Apparently they call it the Giant’s Ring.”

“Feels mystical. You ever been to a convergence point in the past Rad’?” She asked him.

“Nope.” The gray stallion shook his head. “Is this even one?”

“I could have sworn we’d mapped them though.” Scarface said.

“Not all of them. Not at all. We have clues about the position of a couple based on the direction the Event’s wave took on CCTV feeds but that’s about all.”

“A mage could locate them. You know… with mage sight.” Radiant pointed out.

“A mage we don’t have. I’m no expert lest you forgot.” Scarface retorted, arms crossed over his chest. “Mage sight is hard, trust me. I tried.”

The three of them then turned to look at Aleksei. The hippogriff was staring at the mystical stones and the vortex in front of them, seemingly deep in thought and completely still save for the intermittent fluttering of her wings.

“Alek?” Micha nudged her with a talon.

The Latvian blinked a few times before turning her head towards her friend, looking a bit confused.

“Kas? Oh sorry, something the matter?”

“You were kinda zoning out there.”

“Just thinking is all. This place feels weird.”

“No shit. You got a plan?”

“Maybe.” Aleksei fluttered her wings in hesitation. “You read what Mikhail did? I think I might figure out what’s what ‘bout this place if I do the same.”

Micha threw a look at the standing stones.

“Sounds reasonable… you be careful ‘kay?”

“Always.” She nodded, giving her friend a quick tap on the shoulder with her wing before sauntering over to the stones.

From up close, the feeling of magic emanating from the vortex was even more overwhelming. It sent tingles running all the way down her spine as if she was permanently gathering her magic there for a transformation, feeling like a cool blanket was draped over her back. The smell of ozone filled the nostrils above her beak, and her tongue felt like she was chewing on copper wire.

She was tempted for a fleeting second not to touch the vortex. That didn’t last, and so, after giving her companions on the edge of the crater a confident smirk, she plunged her claw inside.

The world went white.

To outside observers, the hippogriff suddenly dissolved into white particles that were immediately sucked up into the vortex before disappearing.

Radiant’s jaw may as well have hit the floor.

“We fucked up didn’t we?” Scarface finally said flatly.

“Like rookies.” Micha numbly replied, falling down on her haunches.

She was lifted up with a lurch the moment her talons touched the magic vortex. The ground slipped away from beneath her hind hooves before gradually shrinking away as the magic hauled her skyward. She didn’t get to see Belfast from the sky though, because her vision soon completely fogged up with a white haze.

And then she was underwater.

Her instincts willed her to shift form, but she could see the surface so instead she just kicked her hooves against the bottom of whatever pond she somehow landed in, propelling herself upward and breaking the surface in a spray of water.

Grass tickled her talons as she grasped the shore. She was in a large, perfectly flat meadow with a tiny little pond in its center next to a gnarly apple tree that shone with a white aura similar to that of the vortex she had just dived through. The area in her direct vicinity may have looked relatively normal, but what went on beyond was about as far from that as imaginable.

The sky above her was a swirling vortex of colors and magic devoid of sun, moon or stars, yet it somehow still cast light upon the land beneath it as the strands of colors that made it up twisted and turned, vying for control, some of them sometimes reaching down to scrape against the ground far away from her, like some giant nightmarish tentacles.

And her meadow was actually more of a plateau that overlooked this mysterious land. A misty blanket extended beyond its edge, masking most of the land save for the odd tree that peeked past the mist. With the ghastly shrieks and roars coming from beyond the mist, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to see what it hid.

Aleksei’s observations were cut short by the sound of hooves behind her. She whipped around to come face to face with… a mare? There was a herd behind her too, but none of them were as… unique as the equine that was approaching her.

Not a pony mare, mind, but an actual horse. And a gigantic one at that, the chestnut mare towered above Aleksei, easily four times her height at the withers. She was an odd breed too: tall and lithe like a courser, yet with enough muscles rippling beneath her coat to put a draft horse to shame.

She was also pregnant, and quite heavily so. Her belly bulging out below her frame.

Odder even was her braided, snow-white mane that framed the sides of her muzzle and highlighted the white mark she had on her forehead: three horses chasing each other in a circle of Celtic curls. And then were her ey-

The Latvian froze up when she crossed the equine’s gaze. Images, pictures, ideas jumped to the front of her mind, instantly formulating a sentence without even requiring words or languages.

‘Greetings mortal, welcome to the Otherworld. I am Epona, steed of Rhiannon, Goddess of all things equine and fertility.’

She lowered her massive muzzle down to Aleksei’s level, the hippogriff falling down to her haunches in sheer awe.

‘To what do I owe your presence in my realm?’

Author's Notes:

For clarification:
Epona was rather widespread as far as celtic divinities go. Syncretism worked its charm as it often did when the Romans encountered new cultures, and they adopted her as patron god of cavalry.

Her symbol is basically a Celtic Triskelion with three horses galloping around the center, if that helps clarify the description.

Arguably it may be a bit odd to represent her as an actual horse, but I felt this was... topical in this case.

And what Epona refers to as the Otherworld is the realm of the dead and the divine in Celtic mythos.

On a completely different note, I just discovered what Land Rover did to the Defender series with the new 2020 edition.

Needless to say, I am profoundly disgusted by the things I witnessed. Gone are the rugged offroaders from before, they've completely moved on to making soccer mom SUV's... _{[sigh] I swear we're in worst future...}

Good lord, creating the Freelancer and ruining the Discovery series wasn't enough?!