It wasn’t long after the bandit’s appearance at the gas station and a few parting promises with its residents that the recce team made it back to Amandine. They drove their Defender up the port ramp and back to its designated spot in the holds, and Aleksei just had enough time to order her subordinates to tidy up all the gear before the Captain and Alejandro made their appearance for her overdue report.

The Spaniard stopped a few steps short of her vehicle just as she was taking off her flak jacket, Dilip having apparently decided to let him handle the report.

“So how did that go?” Alejandro asked after a few seconds of expectant silence.

“Coulda been better. Most of the city is a wreck unless you go real deep inland where the flood couldn’t reach. You got sinkholes and collapsed buildings all over the place – all mapped out by the way-, and some of the buildings have already been looted.”

“By whom then?” The Spaniard tilted his head sideways in a very avian gesture of confusion.

“That’s where it gets interesting. We found two kirins holed up in a truck stop. Korean immigrants from what I gathered. Gave them the standard pitch, but here’s the thing: the bandits the HPI train dude complained about, they’re actual bandits. Convicts. Violent too.”

“Were you attacked?”

“Nē.” She shook her head. “But I had to use my appeasement spell to prevent a gunfight. They’re threatening to capture the locals.”

“Why?”

“From what I understood – and that was some shitty accent if I’ve ever heard any- they want to make servants out of them.”

“Uh... probably too lazy to take care of themselves, and violent enough to capture people. Figures.” Alej’ scowled. “Are you sure about what you’re saying?”

“I am. Even erred on the safe side and checked out the kirins’ claims that the bandits came from a prison transport. And there it was.” She pulled out her phone to show him a picture of a wrecked blue bus by the roadside. “Likeliest location for their hideout is the Westin. Big hotel on the other bank of the river by the convention center. On the bright side... from what I observed they don’t seem too heavily armed, and they’re not too skilled either. They got a head honcho named ‘Boss’ and a guy they call ‘Councilor’ leading the fray, but the rest doesn’t seem to be too bright.”

Dilip raised his head at the mention of the convention center.

“Hold on. If they’re holed up around there then that means they should have noticed us when we came in. You can’t just miss a bright white 200-meter-long ship as it’s passing right in front of your door. So why haven’t they shown up yet?”
“I’d wager the CV90 by the ramp made them realize we’re not as easy a target as lone colonists. Hell, with the gear we’re toting I wouldn’t be surprised if they thought we were from the military.” Alejandro reasoned.

Both Aleksei and Alejandro then expectantly turned towards their Captain, awaiting his decision. Dilip just stared off in the distance, thinking.

“I take it we’re going to get rid of these fools, right?” Aleksei ventured.

“I don’t think it’s as easy as you seem to think, Klavins.” Dilip finally shook his head after a minute of silence.

“How so?” She tilted her head in confusion, a gesture that was mimicked by Alejandro.

“I’m tempted to remind you of our neutrality clause and vow of not interfering in local governance.” The D-Dog started.

“Captain!” Alejandro’s crest feathers bristled. “They’re criminals! Bandits!”

“I’m aware, that’s why it’s only my weakest argument. Still, they technically classify as a local authority, lacking anything else.Because where do we even draw the line on whether a local colony is a legitimate form of government or not? Semantics maybe.And if they’re not a governing body... think about the submarine.Lorelei and Skinner’s rescue operation tells us there are technically some US officials still in existence. If we go in and ‘get rid of them’ as you would suggest, then we’d be acting as complete foreigners entering US soil without authorization and killing their citizens – however bad they may be-.” He crossed his arms behind his back. “I know some of that is just me playing the devil’s advocate against myself, but caution should be taken when handling such topics. And that’s only getting into the matter of whether or not we should intervene. Were we to indeed attack the bandits, we would need a plan.”

“We got the firepower though.” Aleksei pointed a talon towards the spot where they stowed their Piranha APC’s.

“It may make things easier, but that’s not the whole deal. They’re capturing locals, remember?” Dilip tapped a digit against the side of his head. “It’s not just going in and neutralizing them-”

“Neutralizing?”

“I’m loathe we kill anybody in a world where the number of intelligent creatures has been reduced by a factor of ten thousand. Life is precious. Anyway, as I was saying they’re capturing locals to do their dirty work. Chances are they already got a couple of them in the hotel and will use them as hostages if we poke the nest too soon.” Dilip explained. “The situation is nowhere near as easy as you two think it is. Hostage situations are the stuff that typically requires special forces and negotiators. We’re just sailors with guns.”

“So what do we do then?” Aleksei inquired. “I don’t think my speechcraft enhancement...” She hefted up her magic bracelet for emphasis. “… would be enough to convince them to release the captives and the ultimatum they gave the kirins at the truck stop will run out eventually.”

Dilip stared at the APC’s.

“Ain’t easy. Would be better if the rest of the fleet was there but we only got about 25 people to deal with this.” He slowly said. “So here’s what we’re going to do for now: I want one team with APC on station at the truck stop. If the bandits attack they’re free to let loose, but let the bandits shoot first. That will give us an excuse at least. Alej’, you find me someone that can get us eyes on the Westin. Sniper most likely. There should be plenty of buildings on our side of the river still standing to post someone, copy?”

“Solid sir.” The Spaniard nodded before he pulled out a notepad from his breast pocket to jot down the orders. “Anything else?”

“For now? No. But expect something to pop up. I just got a message from the fleet, we might need to stage an expedition or something. And I need to ask permission for that. If only so we get a semblance of legitimacy.”

And on that sentence the sea dog walked off back towards his office, soon followed by his Chief Officer which once more left Aleksei on her own.

She was about to head for her own cabin to finally have that much-needed chat with Lady Epona, only to be interrupted by a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a tugging of sorts that drew her towards the ratings’ cabins.

Somebody there was in pain. Somebody needed her.

A couple decks above the holds, one griffon hen was really starting to question her life choices as her nether regions were wracked with contractions. Turns out, childbirth was hard, or in her case plainly laying eggs. Anton swore profusely as she could feel herself dilate increasingly wider to accommodate the eggs that needed to get out.

Funny thing was, at first she’d been pretty damn sure that… that giving birth to her kids as eggs would be easier. Damn that train of thought still felt so weird, realizing she now was on the feminine side of the equation and experiencing it first-hand.

But having eggs came with its own set of… inconveniences to put it mildly.

Another contraction hit her like a sledgehammer and she felt like she was being split in half.

“C’mon lyubyy, you can do it.” Boris comforted her.

Her mate. He was doing his best to help her, holding her claw and rubbing his talons over her back.

“You try it and tell me how that feels, jackass! This is all your fault!” She screamed in his face, swearing profusely as yet another contraction hit her.

She didn’t really mean it of course. Griffon pair-bonding and all. She loved her mate with all her soul, it was just the sheer gut-wrenching (literally) pain talking.

Why couldn’t it just be like with chickens? They didn’t have the difficulties she had!

Of course egg-based reproduction had to come with its own set of inconveniences that mammalian pregnancies didn’t.

For one, nutrition. Mammal-style at least had the perk that you didn’t have to somehow eat all the nutrients to make two whole babies, yolks and eggshells under the course of two weeks. She’d been pigging out like crazy going off some wild urges for the past two weeks, and beyond the obvious egg pump she was more or less certain she hadn’t even built up that much fat.

For second, it was just… so fast. The eggs developed at a blistering rate inside of her body, so much so that her lower belly region had ballooned out to nearly three times its normal size withintwo weeks. That had made her sore like no one’s business, tired as all Hell, forcing her to waddle around with her back and legs arced in the most ridiculous fashion, and she couldn’t even sleep normally. Hell, the eggs also compressed her bladder and lungs making her short of breath at times, and ridiculously prone to going for the nearest toilet.

Needless to say, that and the myriad of other little things that had come with bearing eggs of that size made her cranky from dawn to sunset, and prone to lash out at an ever-confused Boris.

Yet for some reason she couldn’t bear to hate the pair of hatchlings she knew would eventually come out of the eggs. Blame griffon instincts for that. She wanted to know what they’d look like. Would they share her snow leopard traits? With hints of goshawk like Boris? What were they going to name them?

She just wanted to protect them.

Damn hormones.

Anton screeched as another contraction hit her and her tail went rigid.

Vadim was in a corner of the cabin, hopelessly flipping through one of the biology books the Equestrians had given them in search of some pointers while Micha stood behind her and monitored her… her dilation.

So far, she’d spent the better part of an hour trying to lay her eggs.

“I don’t understand.” Vadim ran his talons through his feathers in exasperation. “The books never said laying eggs should be this hard.” He said in Ukrainian.

“What did you say hun? Can’t speak Ukrainian.” Micha squawked back, pushing Anton’s tail out of the way. “I still can’t see the eggs by the way.”

“I said none of our books mentioned anything about laying eggs being this difficult.” He bemoaned, slamming his book shut with a frustrated trill.

“Shoulda asked for a midwifery manual then.” His own mate quipped before turning her head back towards the other hen. “C'mon Anton, keep pushing.”

“I am pushing!” She snapped. “They just don’t want to actually come out- yeeowch!!” She let out a very feline yowl of pain as yet another contraction rushed through her body.

“Vad’? Idea?” Boris pleaded, the griffon at a complete loss at the sight of the difficulties his mate was going through.

She also wouldn’t let go of his talons, so he was a bit stuck there.

“I. Am. Thinking!” Vadim growled as he paced inside the cabin, throwing intermittent look at the three other griffons by the bed and thinking about what they’d observed so far.

They’d done ultrasound scans the day prior. He’d compared the results to other… avians they knew of. Turns out, griffon eggs were big. Like, really big, even when compared to birds the size of ostriches.

And griffons were half the size of an adult ostrich. That skewed the egg to hen size ratio quite a bit, so it should be no surprise that laying an egg was more of a hassle to a griffon than it was to an ostrich.

Still, was it really supposed to be this hard?

Vadim carefully eyed the struggling Anton.

Should he start considering a C-section? How was he even supposed to know?

“I- I think I need to call Camille.” He slowly uttered. “She should know better.”

Without waiting for a reply, he moved over to the door and opened it to make his exit, only to come face to face with none other than Aleksei. He was about to ask the hippogriff what it was she was doing there when he took note of her eyes.

Instead of their usual dark green, they were pitch black. Vacant.

“Al-?” He asked.

She ignored him. He tried to interpose himself between her and Anton, only for her to raise a claw over his eyes.

“Fanacht socair.”

A warm, soothing sensation swept through his entire being and he collapsed to the side with a goofy grin upon his beak.

Micha had noticed, but the hen just gaped at the sight, leaving Aleksei free to approach Anton and place her talons over the back of her head. The distressed griffon threw her a pleading look, with Boris straight up too confused to know how to react.

“Epona sees you, young hen.” The strange, otherworldly words left the hippogriff’s beak in a voice that definitely wasn’t hers, yet resounded around the cabin in a warm and motherly tone.

Then, much to the surprise of all four griffons around her, her claws lit up with a soft golden glow that wrapped around Anton like a warm blanket.

“Bíodh mo bheannacht agam. Leag do chuid uibheacha gan phian.” She uttered solemnly in Gaelic.

Comfort washed through Anton’s entire being and the grief and pain of laying her eggs disappeared in an instant. She felt herself finally dilate, and out came two very large white mottled eggs that tumbled onto the mattress before their mother quickly brought them close to her breast and draped a wing over them.

The incubator could wait. For now, all her instincts wanted was to gaze lovingly at the two orbs and protect them from harm as she huddled back in a corner of her bed and beckoned Boris over to her with a squawk. It was only once the eggs were clean of her own secretions and that she had her mate by her side that she looked back towards Aleksei.

Amandine’s Third Engineer looked spooked. Her eyes were back to normal, but she was staring at her claws with an unreadable look.

“That was Epona wasn’t it?” Anton finally said after a pregnant – pun intended- pause.

“I-” Aleksei blinked. “I need to go meditate. I need to have a chat with Lady Epona.”

“No shit you do.” Vadim said grumpily. “Go. I’ll handle the rest.”

He didn’t have to blink twice before the Latvian scampered out of the cabin, talons and hooves clicking rapidly against the floor.

“I just witnessed a possessed engineer put a spell on my mate and magically help a genderswapped sailor lay her first clutch of eggs.” Micha stated in disbelief. “Kurwa, what a world. Anton, are you okay there?”

The peregrine falcon/ snow leopard hen of a griffon just nuzzled closer in the crook of Boris’ neck with her eggs safely between them.

Dilip took a seat in front of his desk with a sigh, one paw gliding over to the button that would boot up his computer as the other dug inside of a drawer in search of the little cigar box he used to store his drill bits.

He had to admit the habit of having a metallic chew toy had grown on him as much as it did on the dragons. It would never overtake tea in his preferences, but the different alloys made for some nice variety in their own right.

On that note he plucked a chrome-vanadium bit from the box and stuck it between his lips just as the screen in front of him came to life. He had to wait another minute or two for the satellite connection to boot up as well before he engaged a video call directed towards Fugro.

Dilip allowed himself to recline a little further in his seat as it took yet another couple minutes for someone to answer on the other end of the line.

Yes he was aware satellite comms never were the fastest. That didn’t make the wait any more enjoyable, he was already busy enough without the communication delays.

Finally though, a new window popped up on his screen as his request for a call was accepted and Skinner’s hedgefog figure appeared on screen, along with the brightly decorated office he knew the Scot kept on Fugro Symphony.

“Morning Edgar.” The D-Dog nodded towards his webcam. “I got your message earlier. A turn of events in your rescue operation I take it?”

“Hi, and… yes, I’m afraid that’s correct.” Fugro’s Captain rubbed a digit against the base of his ear. “We’ve done our first docking attempt earlier today. Didn’t go well.”

“Accident happened?”

“No, but no docking with the sub for evacuation either.”

“Okay...” Dilip leaned forward, elbows propped up on his desk. “I’m going to assume if you’re messaging me for assistance then that means you got a plan?”

“Yes. See, the thing with the submarine is that it’s resting on the seabed at an angle. We tried to dock our diving bell to it, but it’s not meant to be heeled. Its own buoyancy makes sure that it’s always upright, so attempting to angle it just rips out the seal before we can pressurize it. Now… we got one of them Navy guys up here on the surface. D-Dog mind, could use an escape suit, if with difficulties. He says the Navy had the means to combat that specific problem.”

“Go on...” Dilip motioned with his paw.

“They had this project underway at their base. Kings Bay they called it. It’s some eighty miles south of Savannah where you’re at. If we want to be as fast as possible, we’re gonna need your helicopter.”

“I’m not sure the AW-189 can lift a whole evacuation submarine.” Dilip pointed out. “Though range wise, that seems feasible...” He ran a quick calculation in the back of his mind. “… yes, feasible, though the chopper could use a refueling when it reaches you. You got a kerosene tank on hand, right?”

“Of course, of course. We keep it just below the landing pad for that specifically.” Skinner replied quickly. “And we don’t need the whole thing. Just the docking seal. It’s segmented so that it can be angled to dock with listed submarines.”

“And you would adapt it to your own bell then?” He paused. “Can you do that? I mean… wouldn’t you need an adapter for that?”

“We can fabricate the adapter on site, that much I can assure you. Gasket, rubber joint, adapting clamp, we got this. What matters is if your chopper pilots can fly over to Kings Bay and hook that thing in a sling carry.”

Dilip reclined in his seat, eyes flicking over his shelf where he knew was a folder containing all the specifications about their ‘air arm’. They most likely could. The AW189 may not be as beefy as a Sea King, but it did have some hoisting power, and its passenger capacity was nothing to scoff at either.

“I’ll need intel.” The Indian dog eventually said.

Because there was only so much Roberto could find on his own. They needed pictures of the project they were supposed to take the docking seal from, diagrams, measurements, weight estimations so the pilots would know how to rig the helicopter’s ventral winch.

They’d need a location. Knowing it was in Kings Bay was one thing, knowing where on base was another entirely, because as big as military bases could get, they didn’t want to have to scour one in its entirety with just what sailors they could cram on board of the helo.

And those limitations only brought other problems back to the forefront of his mind. Namely, his already limited pool of personnel. Two dozen sailors were about all the personnel he had on paw, and he already needed to spare some for the potential hostage situation and to defend the gas station. And the ship of course.

With a resigned sigh, he told Skinner they would do it and pulled out a crew list.

On the bright side, that cast aside any doubt as to the usefulness of having a helicopter on board.

Aleksei slowly exhaled and opened her eyes. She wasn’t in her cabin anymore, instead finding herself back near Epona’s scrying pond in the Otherworld. Tír na nÓg. Except now she somehow knew far more about the uses the Goddess had for the unassuming pond than she’d ever been told personally. More than just a means of observing the mortal world, or a connection to the convergence point near Belfast, it was a pool of power, one of many found in the Otherworld.

She was having trouble thinking ever since the fertility goddess had possessed her. A wealth of knowledge had suddenly filled her mind the moment she’d been in control once more, from different dialects of Breton, Gaelic, Welsh and other languages to an obscenely intricate understanding of the Otherworld and how it worked.

It came with a skull-splitting headache of course.

Looking down at herself, she wasn’t surprised to find she was – as usual- in ethereal form. A projection of her own mind supported by Epona’s will and the Otherworld’s inherent magic. The realm encompassed far more than she’d first thought, being an amalgam of all perceptions of the concept across the Celtic Nations divided in hundreds of smaller domains each assigned to a specific purpose, magical folk or deity.

Aleksei pinched her translucent beak. Those spurts of random knowledge were getting annoying. And as if that wasn’t enough, Epona’s influence on the Roman pantheon meant bits of lore about that had also been inserted in her mind. Somehow.

Well at least now she knew Latin.

She bit back a groan and looked out towards the rest of the plateau, finding it occupied as usual by Epona’s descendants forming one big herd as they grazed on the opposite edge under Morvarc’h watchful vigil.

There was also the stomping of very heavy hooves right behind her, signaling the goddess’ actual loca- and what was that enormous stallion?! She could see Epona – along with her recently birthed foal, of course- in all her gigantic splendor, but beside her was an equally large white stallion with eyes and a mane the color of honey, his entire being radiating a soft light.

Reflexively, she inclined her head in a small bow if only to err on the safe side.

“Greetings milady, I have come into your presence today to request an audience.” She said in Latvian.

For what little languages mattered in the Otherworld, she might as well make it simple and use her native tongue.

“Hmm, proper form and address, looks clever enough and healthy.” The stallion rumbled. “I can see why you’d want her in your herd Epona. She’s a fine mare.”

Aleksei tentatively peeked at the two larger equines, finding the as-of-yet unnamed stallion inspecting her carefully.

“She is.” Epona neighed softly as she nudged her foal towards the rest of the herd with her snout, once she was certain the filly was done suckling her teats. “Rise Lady Klavins, I know we have much to talk about today and little time to do so.”

“Milady?”

The goddess just motioned with her head towards the pond, beckoning the hippogriff to come lay down between her and the stallion by the bank.

“This is Lord Ūsiņš of the Baltic. I have invited him in my realm precisely to address certain concerns of yours.”

“Milord...” Aleksei inclined her head to greet him, only to be surprised when he took the opening to nuzzle her crest-mane of feathers and take in her scent despite the ethereal form.

“Ah...” He sighed softly. “I can sense some of my people in you, but the tie is tenuous. You’re not fully Latvian are you?”

“There was always that accusation that my mother was a cheat...” Al’ whispered.

“Then I’m afraid that confirms it. Your soul may in part be of my people, but it also bears a southerly tang I cannot quite recognize I’m afraid. Nevertheless, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance young lady. Lady Epona seemed quite intent for me to meet you, and I can see why. As she said, my name is Ūsiņš, Equestrian God of Latvia, and also Warden of Light, Bees, and the Livestock.”

“Oh… You’re Lady Epona’s likeness then.” Aleksei nodded. “I understand.”

“Lady Klavins, I believe we all know why you came here today, do we not? You’re overdue an explanation, and me and Ūsiņš have a proposal for you.”

“I could have used a warning for the possessing.”

“For which I’m terribly sorry. I do not normally inflict my consciousness upon mortals in such a manner, but egg binding is a serious matter for a hen and I did not wish to take the risk the mother or her hatchlings be endangered. I promise this will not happen in the future, but its ties in with my...” She eyed Ūsiņš. “… our proposal.”

Aleksei looked down into the scrying pond, its inactivated surface like a mirror that only showed her her own translucent features.

“Priesthood I bet?”

“Priesthood would imply the offer is about you overseeing a temple. It’s not. Call it a role of… cleric, rather.”

“What’s the difference then?”

“You would have more leeway as a cleric.” Ūsiņš explained. “We’re aware of how much you travel. That’s part of what makes you appealing as a follower and representative. You would keep your current job, but as a cleric you would also act as an envoy of sort to your chosen god, spreading word of their existence and doing good in their name. Hosting ceremonies. Rituals.”

“And what would the particulars of either of your proposals entail then, highnesses?”

“It is simple. Both Epona and I have come to the conclusion that we have an equally legitimate stake in you. You are thus free to choose whether you wish to become one of mine or her followers, and we have the benediction of both the Dagda and Dievas in this endeavor.” He told her.

“Should you accept this role, then the range of the powers I have already bestowed upon you would extend. In either case they would be very similar, as we both fall into the same divine category of equine and fertility gods. You’d have powers concerning procreation, midwifery, basic healing, charms, and some ties with nature and appeasement spells. This is the basis of our domains.” Epona said. “Furthermore, all clerics may experience moderate physical alterations depending on which god and domain they serve, and they also gain more… standard powers. Spells and rituals that are common to all types of clerics. Purity spells, banishments and the like, though they tend to require more energy and training than those that would fall in your domain. Those would be the powers you would gain upon accepting, in addition to the support of your patron god in times of need.”

“That...” She worked her beak a few times. “… is a lot of power. I expect the catch to be just as big, is it not?”

“It is asked of clerics that they remain forever loyal to whichever god they serve, quite obviously, though the punishment may vary depending on the divinity. In my case it would involve sterility and withdrawal of all boons provided, though the Dagda and the Morrigan both have the right to intercede in the decision, be it in favor or not of the offending cleric. Should you die, you would also live out your afterlife in this here realm, though you would be free to roam the Otherworld at your own desire – and peril-. As per the duties of a cleric...” Epona trailed off, looking over towards Ūsiņš.

“Clerics must spread the word of their divinity so that they may gain more followers, they accomplish boons and miracles in their name, and they are also sworn to assist in whichever domain their divinity covers. You’d have to ensure that no equine suffers without due reason, to provide assistance and blessings to expecting mothers, assist in matters of fertility pertaining both sentient creatures and livestock, teach regular people basic rituals on how to summon divine favors and provide basic religious services up to and including uniting creatures in holy matrimony.” He continued.

“Wait… so I’d be able to do weddings?” She blinked.

“In another sense than the type you’re acquainted to without magic.” Epona warned her. “I believe you would compare it to a griffon’s pair bonding in this case? Though that may have to be revised seeing not all creatures may be as exclusive in partnership as humans shouldbe.” She nickered at the last sentence. “Thus, Lady Klavins, what do you think of our proposal?”

It took a minute or two for the hippogriff between the two giant equines to come up with a decision. She carefully glanced at the two divines that were gazing upon her expectantly, working her beak several times as her feathers bristled from the sheer power in the air before something actually came out of her mouth.

“Lord Ūsiņš, I’m regretful to decline your offer but Lady Epona has already been by my side for some time...”

“It’s quite alright young mare...” The stallion smiled. “I didn’t come here expecting to gain a cleric, though it has been a pleasure to visit my western likeness after such a long time.” He said as he stood up and quietly nuzzled Epona as a goodbye. “Fare well fair lady, but I must depart now, for I have eyes on a potential cleric of my own roaming the streets of Riga. May we meet again.”

And with that sentence, he was gone in the blink of an eye, the disappearance of his aura making the surroundings of Epona’s scrying pond suddenly darker.

“I’m flattered you would accept me as your patron divinity.”

“Hard as it is to say after the difficulties that have occurred, I deem you trustworthy milady.” Aleksei said. “There is however a little catch. I am afraid for my quest in seeking Bayard and the mage Maugris.”

“How so? Do you not think you can achieve it?” Epona looked down towards Aleksei with a gentle smile on the mare’s muzzle.

“I have reasons to fear I would be… turned away from my endeavor following changes I’ve been experiencing. I thus wish to take a geas upon myself.”

The goddess’ benevolent smile turned into a frown and Al’ was almost certain she felt the temperature drop.

“Geas are no simple matter, mortal. Cù Chulainn himself fell to one such enchantment.”

“I am aware.” She nodded solemnly. “His tale was included in the knowledge your possession imparted upon me. Mine is simpler. I only wish that upon swearing fealty to you as a cleric, that it will be made impossible for me to abandon my quest of seeking to regain my masculinity. As simple as it sounds. No granted power means no counterweight. Just a simple geas, an unbreakable vow.”

Epona stood up to her full, gigantic height, looking down upon the mortal at her hooves as her eyes came ablaze with magic and the sigil she bore on her forehead shone like a miniature sun. Solemnly, she laid one large hoof over the hippogriff’s forehead.

“So be it then.” Her voice boomed, words probably echoing from one end of the Otherworld to the other. “Let it be known to all divinities of this realm that on this day, I, Lady Epona, accept this mortal under the name of Lady Aleksei Klavins within my herd. May she serve me both in life and afterlife, may she wield my name and powers wisely, and may the geas she so wished upon herself be now tied to her very soul. I have spoken.”

The sigil flashed once. A deafening thrumming reverberated throughout Aleksei’s very soul as the goddess’ magic surged through her, remodeling her, warping her body. The last thing the hippogriff saw before her vision went dark was Epona’s head, her features unreadable.

Savannah looked as desolate from the air as it did from the ground. If anything, the sinkholes and collapsed buildings were made all the more apparent at the altitude Sri was currently flying, albeit low enough to ensure none of the convicts would spot her from afar as she moved into position. Flying did have the advantage of making traversing the ruined city a lot faster, though the obvious weight limitations also forced her to keep her loadout light.

Above her, the cloud cover had turned to a mix of orange and pink as sunset finally came, and with it the promise of making her job that much easier.

In principle it wasn’t that complicated. She’d just been ordered to move into position by the river banks and monitor the going-ons at the Westin without being noticed. A marksman’s job is better assigned to a veteran like her.

The only hitch with that plan was that very few post-Event species could boast about not standing out like sore thumbs. Hippogriffs like her were no exception, even though with her ivory coat and orange feathers she was far from the worst offender.

Good positioning and discrete clothing would have to make up for it then...

After a few minutes of flying, Sri eventually decided she was close enough and landed in an overgrown alleyway. Flying any closer to the Westin would just be begging to be spotted (and likely shot at). She took a moment to flip her backpack around and tied it firmly to her back – a mild inconvenience, flyers like her had to fly with their pack on their belly lest it impeded their wings- before she pulled her rifle out of its scabbard, pausing briefly to chamber a round.

It was a FAL – L1A1 actually, not like anyone was going to bitch about the difference- that they’d salvaged from the police station in Derry. Normally she’d rather be using the SCAR-L’s she and the rest of the veterans had become accustomed to, but the DMR was just a better fit for the mission in this case.

She carefully crept her way ever closer to the river bank that would bring her in sight of the Westin, carefully gauging each and every building she came across in search of the most viable sniper’s perch, which she eventually found in the form of a dilapidated dirty brown brick building with wrought iron decorations. Brighter colors on the ground floor depicted a former use as a burger joint, though flooding damage had made sure its culinary role could now only ever be about food poisoning.

And with the broken windows, she could just crawl in without making too much noise and slip to the upper floors where she gathered a couple tables as a stand for her DMR before laying down on her belly with a pair of binos in her talons.

Then…

She observed.

The only sound that came from her was when she briefly pulled out her walkie-talkie to radio the ship and tell Alejandro she was in position. Or maybe the scratch of a pencil on her notepad whenever she drew notes and diagrams of the bandit camp she could see across the river.

In another time, the Westin may have been a reputable hotel. It was, what? Sixteen? Eighteen floor tall maybe? A massive beige stone building with numerous square windows for each bedroom, a couple skylights on the roof with terraces for the suites, subtle but tasteful decorations on the facade, and even an adjoined luxury restaurant and a swimming pool surrounded with palm trees. Either a decent honeymoon destination, or a good lodging for convention attendants going to the center it was built next to, both of them directly connected to a highway exit. That was about all she could see, along with the parking, though her maps also said there were other amenities beyond her view range she couldn’t see, like a golf course and a drag racing lane.

In short: a fancy four-star for rich cunts she could have never afforded prior to the Event anyway. Sri exhaled an exasperated trill as she took note of some of the cars in the parking lot, further cementing her opinion of the place.

Why vacation in a city when you could go far longer out in the wilderness for the same price? Urban life was just so constricting, so why force that upon yourself when you’re supposed to catch a break? She could never fully understand the reasoning.

The convention center stood beside the hotel like a massive hunk of pale stone and broken glass with its banners left in tatters, now nothing but a broken husk of cold, impersonal modern architecture. The bandits didn’t seem to show much concern for the building, what with the amount of graffiti and bullet holes covering the facades.

Comparatively, the hotel had fared a little better under their rule, though not by much. Its grounds were now surrounded with a makeshift palisade topped with barbed wire that prevented intruders and prisoners alike from crossing. And she could see some of them.

There weren’t many, but she could see a pair of little mares serving drinks by the pool to what she soon identified as convicts by their demeanor alone.

Sri scowled. Given a chance of complete freedom, these guys chose to take others’. She was very tempted to just flick the safety off her DMR and light them up, but that would just make the rest of them hunker down inside and possibly endanger their prisoners.

All she could do was watch and take notes. They needed to know how many prisoners they had, where they kept them, what were the convicts’ routines… Plus the obvious stuff like locating the gang’s two supposed leaders.

Judging by the lights she saw coming from the top floors and the activity up there, she’d assume the two (so far identified as ‘Boss’ and ‘Councilor’) had taken residence in the two penthouses on either wing of the building.

Useful as that was to know, that didn’t make her role as an observer particularly entertaining. In fact it was rather mind-numbing, but it came with the opportunity of being on her own, away from the ship, to reflect in relative silence.

That was something she could use a bit of. Artyom may have gotten her to stop the lone drinking and the self-pitying about being turned into a female (she really didn’t give two shits about the hippogriff part), but that didn’t stop the thinking once she sobered up.

Sri had never been particularly effusive about her problems. Maybe it was the way she’d been raised to deal with them on her own to avoid upsetting the ‘social harmony’ and not soil her group’s image with unwanted displays of ‘bad feelings’... Okay, maybe she was being a bit disingenuous, but there sometimes was this bad habit of sweeping problems under the rug to save face back home. Her feelings about the loss of her manhood? That was something only Artyom had ever been privy to, and even then that was only because of her then-inebriated state.

The drinking coming to a halt didn’t stop the thinking. Like it or not, her transformation and general attitude put her in complete conflict with her own religion, but what in the blazes was she supposed to do about it? The only other ‘Muslim’ on board was Mohammed and the Tunisian sphinx had about as much in common with her as a dog had with a cat. Plus he was as pious as a prostitute doing politics.

What then? She couldn’t forever ignore the feelings brought on by her transformation, and the ideological conflict wouldn’t disappear of its own. Artyom’s suggestion to not get hung up over it could only do so much.

It looked like she was due for a change of faith.

Eh, for what it was worth she might as well convert to Celtic Paganism. Those were Gods they knew actually existed at least. And with the jokes going on about Aleksei, they might even have a priestess on claw for religious advice.

“Fuck it, better than sticking to Islam. Who’s gonna give a shit anyway?” She muttered under her breath as she watched the convicts turn in for the night.

Author's Notes:

And... here we go with the magical classes. Been hitting them with a spanner for a while, trying to figure out how to fit them in the setting. Good thing is, since the magic system was intended to be flexible from the get go, that's not too hard for most of them.

The result: here's the first one. A cleric. Not like the move wasn't telegraphed when you look into it.

Also: sympathy for Aleksei. Proud of her dad in the National Guard... then a God confirms her mom was a cheat. Rough.