I didn’t sleep much that night. One of the apparent side effects of getting scratched by stackberry thorns is that the cuts puff up slightly and start itching like the dickens. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to ignore the constant tickling all over my body and not scratch myself until I bled. Maybe I was allergic?

The irritation of the stackberries notwithstanding, it was only part of the reason I couldn’t sleep. Between the constant annoyance and scratching, Ty’s stupid voice dominated my thoughts.

“You two would make a cute couple.”

He was wrong. I had to respect the audacity it took for him to say something like that to me when we were still barely acquaintances, but it was pure nonsense. Silverstream and I were friends, and as far as I was concerned, that was the beginning and end of it. I couldn’t look at her like that. It was… I don't know, weird?

Then why was I so worked up over it? I rubbed my eyes and blinked hard as the dawn’s earliest glow began trickling into the room through the walls. I groaned and lifted a wing over my face.

It wasn’t like Silverstream and I were that close. Among our friends, we were the furthest apart. We were friends, sure, but I wouldn’t exactly call us best friends—that honor belonged to Smolder. Dragons and griffons are cut from similarly cold, uncaring cloth. We always got along the best out of everyone because we understood each other.

For a second my mind lingered on how dating Smolder would turn out, but it ended with a derisive laugh. Nothing against her, but something told me that I’d wind up dead before long in that scenario. So far as I knew, she wasn’t even interested in boys, let alone one from another species. That was okay with me.

So why Silverstream, aside from simple proximity? We hardly ever hung out one-on-one before I came to Mount Aris. In a group, everything was peachy, but being alone with her could quickly turn into sensory overload. Her enthusiasm was fun, but when exposed to the full brunt of her talking a million words per minute and never sitting still longer than it took her to say those million words, I could only endure so much of it at a time. She wore me out more often than not.

No, Silverstream was not the kind of girl I was interested in. Not even counting what everyone back home would think if I wound up with a hippogriff, we just weren’t compatible like that.

I blew a defeated breath into my crest and rolled out of bed. It was an early start for a weekend, but I needed to get up and occupy myself. I felt better after a shower and breakfast, but my brain was stuck in a loop. Every time I went idle, even for a moment, it was back to thinking about Ty.

And Silverstream.

I didn’t know what I was going to do until Silverstream showed up in the afternoon. My room was still pretty much devoid of anything interesting, and I somehow didn’t have the willpower to actually go outside and make my own entertainment. I was stuck here, alone with my thoughts.

“Ugh,” I muttered under my breath as I flopped onto the couch and buried my face into my hands. Ty and his stupid comment. I had no idea what I was going to do to get away from it. If he was here, I probably would have launched into a rant about how wrong he was, just to shut him up. I had the evidence and facts on my side.

Come to think of it, it was weird that he was nowhere to be found. Usually there was at least some evidence of his comings and goings, but this morning there was nothing. Not a peep from his room, not even a muffled snore. The kitchen was in proper order, nothing out of place. It was just me. I was still a little groggy from getting nearly no sleep, so I rubbed my eyes and stretched myself out further on the couch.

Next thing I knew, I awoke with a start to the sound of a knock at the door. I sat up with a groan and rubbed my eyes. It was amazing how quickly I’d fallen asleep only an hour after giving up on my insomnia. I really hated my body sometimes.

I had no idea how long I was out, but it was a safe guess that I’d slept into the afternoon and Silverstream was here. A little pang shot through my guts as I gripped the door handle, and I steeled myself against it. She was just my friend. There was nothing to be afraid of.

I would be lying if I said I would have ever expected who greeted me when I opened the door. Instead of Silverstream, a sandy-coated hippogriff a full head taller than me was standing on the doorstep. “Hello! Valiant Wing of Hippogriffia Daily, pleasure to make your acquaintance. You must be Gallus, right?” She offered me a claw, and through my stunned silence I had the presence of mind to shake it.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I croaked after an awkwardly long pause.

“Excellent, do you mind if I come in? I’m doing a story about the Navy and I’d love to ask you a few questions.” She had a way of talking so fast that it made my head spin, but with enough authority to lead me along without question. Was it just me, or did every female hippogriff talk a mile a minute?

I nodded and stepped aside, allowing her into the den.

“I like your place,” she commented, eyeing the room with a probing gaze. She was taking mental notes, searching for details in the surroundings. Her gaze lingered on the kitchen and the hatch leading to the bathroom for a few seconds. “Very cozy.”

“Uh, thanks I guess,” I said, scratching the back of my head.

“May I?” She took a seat on the couch, and given that it was the only chair in the room, I stood awkwardly at one end of it.

Valiant Wing took out a notepad from her satchel and produced a shiny metal ballpoint pen with an ornately engraved surface, a lattice pattern etched into the metal. This hippogriff did a lot of writing, and she wanted the whole world to know how good she was.

That observation did little to answer the obvious question. “Why are you here?” I asked, blurting out the first thought in my head.

She frowned slightly. “Like I said, I’m here to interview you.”

“Why me?”

She leaned toward me, flashing me a smirk. She knew something that I didn’t. “Because you are big news, Gallus. I report on big news.” Her voice was sultry, like a warm summer evening on the beach. Something about it was comforting, but at the same time unnerving. If she was anything like the journalists in Equestria that were always writing takedown pieces about the friendship school, I needed to watch my step.

“That doesn’t clarify anything.”

The smirk dried up, as did her tone. “I don’t assume you’ve looked very deeply into naval history, have you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say that your inclusion in our military is a first. In its history, Her Majesty Queen Novo’s Royal Navy has never included a griffon among its ranks.” She made a point of enunciating every word in the navy’s full name.

My brow raised. I knew that Headmare Twilight had tried to send that gigantic Rock Hoof pony to work in the Hippogriff Navy just a few months ago. It didn’t work out, but not because he was a pony, to my knowledge. The navy wasn’t an organization that discriminated based on species. I couldn’t have been the first, right?

Then again, I hadn’t exactly seen any other griffons here besides me. Maybe I was the only griffon in this whole city?

That thought made me feel a little lonely.

“It sounds like you already know everything about it. A lot more than I do.”

She laughed, a quick little snort. “That’s the official story that anyone can discover for themselves, but talking to the first griffon to ever join Her Majesty Queen Novo’s Royal Navy will give my story the texture it needs!” She clicked her pen. “So, let’s start off with some basic questions. Have a seat, tell me a little about yourself, Gallus. How did you wind up in Hippogriffia?”

That was a loaded question. I steered around it with a shrug as I went to the far end of the couch. “I honestly don’t know. One minute I was in class, the next minute I’m here. Life is kinda crazy these days.”

Valiant’s pen worked furiously against the page, her hand deftly practiced at writing down as much as possible as fast as possible. Even more impressive was the fact that she could keep eye contact with me while writing. “You and me both. So you’ve gotten yourself a job with the Navy?”

“For the summer, yeah.”

“Just for the summer?”

I nodded.

Valiant gave me a puzzled frown. “I didn’t know the Navy did temporary positions.”

“Apparently they created one specially for me,” I said under an eyeroll.

“Wow! You must have impressed them.”

“Sure, enough to make me a janitor for three months.”

“So you’re working in sanitation?”

My smile carried a sharp edge of irony. “I’m the best trash griffon they’ve got on the payroll.”

Valiant Wing marked something out hastily on her sheet. I must have surprised her with that revelation. “How do you like working for the Navy?”

I shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. I’ve had worse jobs.”

“Worse jobs? Care to elaborate?”

Reminiscing on my life before I became a student wasn’t something I felt like doing so early in the day. “Not really.”

She frowned and went back to her notebook, leafing through the pages. “You said you don’t know how you wound up in Hippogriffia. Surely there’s more to the story than that. Was there a specific event that led you here? Someone you know?”

She’d noticed the deflection. I sighed inwardly, “Yeah, my friend Silverstream was the one that brought me here.”

“That’s right, she’s the one who goes to that school in Equestria. You’re a student there too?”

I nodded.

“And she was the one who helped set everything up?”

“Yes, and I’m very thankful for that. Without her help, I’d be back home in Griffonstone.”

The reporter tapped her pen against the tip of her beak. “If memory serves, Silverstream is related to the royal family. Did that have something to do with the hiring process?”

I could read the writing on the wall. Whether she was pushing for a corruption or nepotism angle, that question would lead nowhere good if I answered truthfully. “She suggested I get a job with the Navy, I interviewed for the position, and I got the job. That’s all I know.”

This time seeing her mostly hidden grimace of frustration brought a little nugget of satisfaction. Shutting down the question designed to raise the scandal alarm felt good. Like I was protecting Silverstream somehow.

Shut up, brain.

“Moving on,” said Valiant Wing. “You come from Griffonstone?”

I nodded.

“And you’d rather not be there?”

I shook my head. “It’s a dump.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” she commented, scribbling furiously on her notepad. “So, how do you like living on Mount Aris? Any early impressions of the place?”

Another loaded question, but this time I decided to be truthful. “It’s pretty nice, but I haven’t had a great first week. I don’t know how well I like it, to be honest.”

Valiant frowned and marked something else out. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anything you did like so far?”

I could tell I wasn’t giving her the answer she wanted, and I reveled in that for a moment. “I’m far away from home and in a new place. There’s a lot of things to do and see, opportunities everywhere. And it’s pretty. I love the architecture here.”

Valiant scribbled down a few more things and folded her notepad closed. “That’s all I’ve got for you.” She rose from her seat. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

“My pleasure,” I said, shaking her hand.

She departed quickly, showing herself out. The door closed with a click, and I was alone again.

“That was weird.” I sat there in the quiet of the den for a moment. She couldn’t have been here more than ten minutes, but it felt like the conversation had taken over an hour. I sprawled out on the couch and let out a sigh. Maybe I hadn’t been asleep for long before the reporter showed up, but I was still tired. It only took a few minutes for me to fall asleep again.

---

---

Once upon a time when I was younger, I took an art class. The class was a breeze to me, but not for everyone. Terramar took the class with me, and he struggled with it. He had to rush every single project in that class and barely passed at the end. The teacher was never very happy with his work, and he didn’t stick with it afterwards.

Terramar once told me that a blank canvas was intimidating. He never knew how to start, so he always put it off until he was forced to at the last second. For me, a blank canvas was a land of infinite possibilities! I could do anything in that little square of stretched fabric. It was my domain, a place where I made the rules.

Starting was always the most difficult part of any piece—that much I could agree on—but unlike him, I didn’t dwell on that.

Good thing for me that abstract impressionist paintings didn’t need a well-placed start point. I could leave everything up to chance. Dollops of every color of oil paint I owned were laid out on my palette, the canvas stood stalwart on the easel. I took the brush in my beak, closed my eyes, and lowered it to the palette, giving it a swirl around the outer edge to make a pass through all of the colors.

With feeling, I repeated in my head, stepping up to the canvas with eyes still closed. I brushed a wing against it to ensure I wasn’t just going to swipe at the air with my paintbrush, and once I was in position, I arched my neck and dragged the brush across it in a haphazardly curved line from left to right.

There! Now the hard part was done. I opened my eyes and took the brush in my free hand before examining my work, a stripe of varying color and intensity, a mishmash of whatever happened by chance when I closed my eyes.

But what did it mean? How did I feel about it? That was the hallmark of abstract impressionism. The seemingly random patterns of colors all meant something. Anyone could splash paint onto the canvas, but it took an artist’s touch to bend the colors to shape, to represent raw emotion in a physical medium.

I stared deeply at that streak of mixed color, analyzing it. What story did it tell? What was I feeling when I first laid it down? My brain usually had a knack for sorting out what the colors said, but this time I was drawing blanks. I had no idea what it meant.

Why is art so hard?

I was about to drop the palette on the ground and give up when it hit me. Confusion. There it was. This time, the randomness of the painting truly was random. The colors had no clear meaning, but that was now the point. True mastery of an art form came when you could break the rules on purpose and get away with it.

So, confusion. Why was I confused? The world was a confusing place a lot of times, sure, but I wasn’t particularly worried about anything right now. Things had calmed down a lot in the last year. Now that I was home for the summer, I could relax and not worry about things that I didn’t want to worry about.

I frowned. It’s Gallus, isn’t it?

I raised my brush back to the canvas, picking up a glob of blue paint and tracing it parallel to the original stripe of confusion. That boy had me worried. And sad. Saddied? No, that didn’t work. Sadness and worry were two separate things. They needed separate stripes.

I chose yellow to represent my worry, only realizing the similarity to Gallus’s colors after I started laying down the yellow stripe. I love multidimensional symbolism!

So I was worried about what could have made someone as stoic as Gallus break down crying, and sad that he was considering leaving Mount Aris because of it. Yesterday gave me a glimpse at a side of Gallus he rarely showed anyone. The last time he’d been that emotional, he was divulging the tragic details of his home life or lack thereof in Griffonstone, and even then, he hadn’t cried.

If he could go all of his life without anyone to call family and not even cry about it, then something must have been really bad in the last week, probably much worse than he’d let on. That was just like him; suffer in silence and never show the cards in his hand.

I filled in the space between the blue and yellow lines with pink. Tender and raw, the fleshy, fragile part of a person. Guarded by his exterior colors. Apparently Gallus was a little softer inside than I had thought.

But how soft was he? Was he fragile enough under his shell that his life before moving away from Griffonstone could have broken parts of him? Was he damaged?

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away. Gallus was fine. He had his scars, but that was what made him Gallus. I focused back on the painting and blinked in horror at what I had done while lost in thought. Red. Everywhere. A huge swath of crimson bisected the canvas from top to bottom, staining the yellow stripe to orange and the blue to purple where they crossed.

“This isn’t helping,” I said, sighing. The clarity I usually felt from art wasn’t coming to me. I was working with an incomplete picture. The more I thought about it, the more curious about Gallus I became.

I knew about his home life, at least a few details. No family, no friends, but the rest of it was a mystery. I also knew his job here in Hippogriffia wasn’t great. Outside of that? I just knew what everyone else knew. He was a snarky, tenacious griffon who kept everyone at arm’s length, even his best friends. What was he hiding in that mind of his?

I cleaned my brush and pushed the easel up against the wall. I hadn’t set out to do it at first, but this painting had morphed into a visualization of Gallus, and it wasn’t even close to half complete. I couldn’t finish it in good conscience if I didn’t know more about him.

So that meant I needed to do some digging. Gallus was an enigma. I could crack the code.

I went to my bed and slid myself underneath it, reaching for the big basket of junk I had stashed there. Among various seashells and assorted nicknacks I’d accumulated from yard sales and still had yet to find a use for, there was a stack of notebooks from my first year at friendship school. I thumbed through the stack, frowning when I didn’t find what I was looking for.

“It must be at Mom’s house,” I said with a groan. That meant an hour-long trip to Seaquestria just to pick up my old psychology notes.

But it would be a worthwhile trip. I had a hunch about what was wrong with Gallus, but I needed more information. Lucky for me, I had a full course in psychology under my belt, all the tools I needed to get to the bottom of his mind’s mysteries. I just needed to use them. I grinned as my plans filled themselves in. Today, at the Harmonizing Heights, I would get my answers.

It was before noon, so I wasn’t running late, but I needed to take the time Mom would want to talk to me into account. Considering how long it had been since my last visit, it could be a while. If I wanted to get to Gallus’s place on time, I needed to hustle!

---

---

“Hey there, Gal Pal!” Silverstream stepped into the den with the usual grin on her beak, oblivious to me as I tried to process the name she’d just called me.

“Gal Pal? Really?”

She blinked. “What? It’s a fun name! Short for Gallus Pallus.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid that’s a no-go, uh…” I tried to think of something to match it with, ”Sillystream.”

It was the best I could come up with on the spot, and it sucked.

“Ok, that one was lame,” she laughed. “And I’ve heard it before.”

“I wonder why.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Sorry I’m late. I had to make a run to Seaquestria today, and that took way longer than I thought it would. My mom loves to talk my ear off when I’m down there.”

“It’s alright. I had a weird morning. Some reporter showed up and asked me a bunch of questions about my job. Kinda wore me out. I was napping most of the day.” I felt a lot better after the nap. Clearer. No longer were my thoughts centered around Ty’s comment or the implications thereof. Nor would they be now that Silverstream was here.

There was a slight pause as her smile twisted itself into a frown. “What did you say?”

Right. She knew that whole story now. “Eh, just the basics. You’ll get to read it when it comes out.”

She smiled, but I could still see some of the wariness in her eyes.

“So!” I said, clapping my hands together to change the subject, “Whatcha wanna do today?”

“You know. What we had planned!”

I blanched, searching my memory. “Oh, yeah! Right. That.”

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“...Yeah.”

She giggled. “Then it’ll be a surprise!”

“Cool. I’m ready when you are,” I said.

“Great!” Silverstream bounded outside, slapping the top of the doorframe with her talons as she walked out. I followed along and locked the apartment behind us. The dirt path was damp and the air smelled faintly of rain, but it was sunny. I must have slept through the rain shower.

Silverstream was already almost to the end of the block by the time I started up the street, so I had to run to catch up. “Any chance you could take me underwater sometime?” I asked, her earlier comment about going home to Seaquestria still on my mind.

“Sure! We could do that today instead if you want to. There wouldn’t be enough time to get to Seaquestria and back, but I know a coral reef nearby that’s really pretty.”

“Eh, we already have plans for today. Next time?”

“It’s a date!”

I tensed. Shut up, brain. You know what she means.

Instead of making the usual left turn toward the market that I always used as a takeoff and landing point, we turned right at the first intersection. The path led us uphill, past several more rows of residential trees like the one I was in, though these looked more upscale, some of them perched on pillars of stone that elevated them above the road. Further ahead, the tree canopy opened up and spat us out onto a crowded, wide cobblestone road.

“Huh, so this is where the action is.”

Silverstream nodded. “Yep! Main Street.”

“Figured it would have a more exciting name.”

“It’s a placeholder. We’re voting on an official name sometime this year.”

“Wait, why wasn’t it named in the first place?

Silverstream’s ears drooped subtly, just enough that I noticed. “It’s a long story,” she said, her words clipped, but she perked up in a blink. “This way!” She pointed us right, and we walked down the thoroughfare amid the hustle and bustle of an entire city of hippogriffs. The little market I landed in every day near my apartment was small by comparison. Main Street was lined with stores, stalls, and tents like a fair. Streamers hung overhead from the light posts. Immediately in front of us, a merchant was searing salmon over a fire, the warm scent of smoke and fish making my mouth water. I almost asked Silverstream to stop so I could buy some.

Over the sounds of the general commotion, I picked up on a strange low hum emanating from somewhere ahead of us. I cocked an ear, trying to figure out its source, but it was difficult to pinpoint. Silverstream noticed it too, and she grabbed my hand. “Ooh, it’s starting! We gotta hurry!”

I saved my question about what ‘it’ was, my brain too busy focusing on her claws intertwining with mine as she led me at a gallop down the road.

Stop thinking about it.

The humming in the air grew louder as we approached the arch, which rose to a point in a shape that reminded me of an onion. It was set into a high stone wall covered with moss, and several more engraved arch shapes in the wall surrounded the central one like feathers of a peacock’s tail. Through the opening, I could see no more buildings. Just a lush green field with a waterfall off to the left.

A park? Was there some kind of concert going on here? My gaze was drawn upward as we entered the park, marveling at the height and grandeur of the gateway arch.

“These are the Harmonizing Heights!” Silverstream announced, earning a few looks from the other hippogriffs and a couple of ponies coming and going from the park.

It was impressive. The true summit of the mountain—not counting the artificial height from the stone wings that wrapped around it—was kept separate from the city. Waterfalls around the sides flowed from bluffs built up around the edge, converging into a rushing, effervescent stream that ran down the center of the park. Birds sang in the grass, and all around, the hums emanated from seemingly everywhere.

I didn’t have words for it at first. It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but the strange tones vibrating the air in a pattern nearly consistent with music were captivating. I searched the walls, trying in vain to find the source of the sounds, but there was none. It came from nowhere and everywhere.

“Alright, tour guide. Tell me about this place. Where’s that sound coming from?” I asked.

Silverstream beamed at the opportunity to dive into details. “I actually worked as a tour guide before I went to friendship school, so I’m glad you asked!” With a quick flap of her wings, she settled on top of a boulder about twice as tall as I was, puffed out her chest, and launched into a speech. “The summit of Mount Aris is a beautiful plateau that not only is home to the capital of Hippogriffia, but where music comes from thin air! The sound you’re hearing is the crown jewel of our mountain, the Harmonizing Heights. Some like to think that it was magic that produces the songs, and they’re right! Kind of. It’s not magic in the traditional sense, but the magic of engineering!”

“You rehearsed this?”

“Oh, I’ve given this speech like a hundred times. Know it like the back of my hand!” She puffed her chest back out, re-entering her tour guide mode. “The sounds you hear aren’t natural to the mountain, but they’re actually an accidental result of the huge construction project at the beginning of King Nimbus’s reign, when the Wings were built to help us defend the mountain from invading navies. After they were constructed, sometimes a resonant hum would occur when the wind blew from just the right direction. After a few years, the king decided to make some modifications to the walls that would make the wind resonate at musical intervals, and so the Harmonizing Heights was born!”

I gave her a vaguely sarcastic round of applause. “Bravo! Encore!”

Silverstream picked up on it and took a bow. “It was the performance of my career.” She hopped down from the boulder and urged me onward, deeper into the park.

We continued into the meadow until we found a nice spot under a tree, right next to the confluence of the streams. She plopped down in the grass and patted a spot next to her.

“So, this is the plan?”

“Yup! After yesterday, I figured we should take it easy and not do anything too active. We can just hang out here for a bit until the sun sets. That’s okay with you, right?”

Great Grover’s ghost, did she overhear him last night? My heart rate increased, and my mouth suddenly felt dry. Was this really going where I thought it was going?

Of course it wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Silverstream and I hung out plenty one-on-one. What made this any different? A stupid comment from a roommate I barely knew? I sneered at myself internally. I had no idea why it was getting to me so badly, but I needed to stop it, pronto, or—

“Gallus?”

I snapped back to reality. “Yeah, that’s cool,” I muttered, sidling over to her and claiming my place by her side.

Phrasing. I pushed the thoughts from my brain. They didn’t matter.

“I found something earlier that got me thinking,” said Silverstream.

“That’s dangerous,” I quipped.

Silverstream pulled a notepad out that had been tucked under her mane, ignoring my snark. “Have you ever taken a personality test?”

I blinked. “Nope.”

“Look at that, two firsts for you today!” She dropped the note pad in front of me and offered a pencil. “Just fill that out and I’ll handle the rest.”

I cautiously opened the booklet and shot her an unamused look. “You’re really making me take a test while we’re not in school?”

“It’s a fun test!” she countered. “It helps you get to know yourself better.”

“I know myself pretty well. It’s not like I can ever get away from myself.”

Her expression flattened a bit. “Just take the test. I’m doing it too.” She turned to her packet and left me to fill out mine. It seemed like half of the questions in the test were just slightly reworded versions of ‘Do you like going to parties?’ or ‘Do you work well in groups?’. It was farcical to me, but I decided to humor her and fill it out honestly.

I was about halfway through the test when I noticed another sound join in with the droning hymn of the mountain. This time, though, I could easily pinpoint the source. As Silverstream filled out her test, she started humming along with the tune. A couple of times when the pitch shifted, she lagged behind the change by a second or two. Each time, she adjusted her wings and creased her brow.

I realized I was staring and forced myself to look down at the page. A strange warmth in my chest bubbled up.

I thought it was cute, and I hated it.

I finished the rest of the test at breakneck speed and pushed it toward her. “Welp, I’m gonna go explore on my own while you finish yours up. Come find me when you’re done!” I sped off before she could reply, making a beeline to a bluff on the edge of the park.

“I hate you, Ty. I hate you a lot,” I cursed under my breath. I landed a bit harder on the bluff than I intended to, earning a look from a couple that were also perched up there. The water looked inviting and cool, so I dunked my head into it. The cold stung, frigid catharsis shocking my brain out of its warm, fuzzy thoughts.

Distract yourself. I searched around for anything to occupy my mind, and my eyes settled on the stream itself. The ledge we were on couldn’t have been more than ten feet wide, so the fact that a natural spring could rise in such a small outcropping was ludicrous. I waded into the shallow stream and approached the stone wall, feeling around the streambed for a source.

Aha! Found it. I felt a current push upward on my hand, which I found to be coming from a small metal grate.

So everything about the Harmonizing Heights was unnatural. I took another look at the valley, and it suddenly felt cheaper, less spectacular. This wasn’t a natural wonder. It was a cold, desolate mountaintop transformed into a lush paradise by hippogriff claws. A sculpture.

I walked over to the edge, standing at the top of the small waterfall and peering down at the short cascade into a shallow pool below. It may have been artificial, but it was still pretty nice. I dove over the edge, spreading my wings to arrest my fall and carry me gently to the ground next to the pool.

An old griffon legend stated that if a waterfall had a cave behind it, the treasure of a lifetime could be found within. Not that there were many waterfalls near Griffonstone—it was on a high, arid steppe. Rain was rare outside of a month or two in the summer.

Grandpa Gruff certainly believed it, though. One time, he dragged me along on a trade run to Sheerwater, the new capital of the Griffon Empire. We got sidetracked on a road we hadn’t ever taken before, one which incidentally took us right past a tall waterfall on a stream. Grandpa Gruff eagerly abandoned the cart to go search for his life’s treasure, only to return agitated a few moments later. There was no cave. He was in a foul mood the rest of the day.

He was never pleasant, but that trip had been hellish. Nowhere close to being worth the paltry twenty bits he paid me for two days of putting up with him.

I shrugged off the memory. Maybe my luck was better than his.

I peered back through the veil of rushing water, and I could barely make out a dark, cavernous space hidden behind it. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and leaped forward. The brief splash of water hit like a heavy punch downward as I rushed through. I didn’t shatter my beak against a rock wall, so that was a good sign. I skidded to a halt on a jagged, rocky floor and opened my eyes.

It wasn’t a grand cavern, but the little waterfall had a cave large enough to at least accommodate a griff or two. I searched around the shadowy space in earnest, scanning around for my treasure of a lifetime.

There was none, of course. Who would stash valuables behind a waterfall in the middle of a city? Other than a few names scratched into the rock, there was nothing in here but me. I scoffed, laughing at the small part of me that hoped the legend would hold true. I wasn’t getting rich quick today.

Behind me, a splash through the waterfall and claws skidding to a halt drew my attention. I whirled around, hackles raised, only to find my vision filled with pink, purple, and blue.

“Couldn’t wait to explore the double-H on your own, huh?” Silverstream said, giving herself a quick shakedown to dry her coat and feathers.

My treasure of a lifetime. How convenient. “Double-H?

“Harmonizing Heights.”

“Right. Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist its charms,” she said, flashing me a knowing smirk. If only she really knew. “It’s almost sunset. I’ve got a great spot where we can watch it. Come on!”

With another splash, Silverstream disappeared through the waterfall. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to plunge through the chilly water again.

Was I going to be like this for the rest of the summer? Unable to look at Silverstream without feeling all tingly and embarrassed? Yesterday, despite the unpleasantness that happened, everything had been fine. We were just friends hanging out, having a good time. That much hadn’t changed, but now I couldn’t turn off the rosy tint in my brain.

I sailed through the waterfall and landed on the riverbank, shaking the remaining dampness from my wings. Silverstream was already in the air, hovering overhead waiting for me. I took wing and she led the way upwards. Higher and higher we climbed, heading for the highest point we could reach: the tip of the spire. I hadn’t gotten a close-up look at it yet, but now that we were nearer, I realized what it was.

“Was that the old palace?” I asked, shouting over the wind. She followed where I was pointing and nodded. She continued on in silence, leading us higher. I expected us to go straight to the top, but instead we aimed for a flat spot right at the point where the stone wings converged into the spire. The ledge was barely three feet wide, so sticking the landing was a bit tricky. One of my hind legs hung over the edge until I found my footing and fully perched myself there.

“We aren’t going all the way to the top?” I asked.

“We’re not allowed up there. There’s guards on the top platform.”

“But we’re allowed here?”

Silverstream shook her head. “Technically, no.” She paused and shot me a sideways glance. “But has anyone ever told me not to be up here?”

I nodded and settled myself, lying on my side half curled up. Silverstream chose to recline back and rest her head against the stone wall, her hind hooves hanging over the edge.

Below, the entire city stretched out like a staircase leading down to the world. The sun rested on the horizon, a fierce orange ball sinking into the ocean that colored the entire sky around it. The last rays of its warmth were fading, and as high as we were, I was starting to notice the chill in the air. I puffed a slow breath out of my mouth and noticed the faint wisp of steam.

Something warm and soft pressed against my side, but instead of appreciating it, I shuddered. Silverstream had shifted, leaning up against me on her shoulder.

She’s just cold. She’s just cold. She’s just cold. She’s just cold.

She sighed. “I love coming up here in the evenings. You can’t beat the view.”

“It’s nice,” I croaked.

“Uh, you okay?”

I cleared my throat with gusto. “I’m good, just a little thirsty.”

She shrugged and we went back to uncomfortable silence, at least for me. After a few minutes, she broke it with: “Do you have a secret spot like this back home in Griffonstone?”

“Yeah. It’s nowhere near as good as this, though. Sometimes I’ll fly out into the plains around Griffonstone and try my luck at hunting. Usually, it doesn't work out very well, but one time I found a little pond with some shade trees in a valley a few miles away from the city. It turned into my reading spot when I needed to get away from things.”

“That sounds nice,” she hummed. “Sometimes I take a small canvas and some paint up here. If I can’t think of anything else to paint, I’ll just do a landscape of the city.” She paused and took a breath. “Everything’s kind of like a painting from up here. When you get high above the city, it looks so much more peaceful. Like all of the problems and bad stuff just fade away.”

“It’s nice,” I said again, my brain short-circuiting. It was the only thing I could think of besides the fact that she was still leaning against me and being all sappy.

This wasn’t a date. This was something friends totally did all the time. Right? Right?

I snuck a sideways glance at her. A small, content smile crossing her beak, eyes transfixed on the sunset. She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh.

There was no way this wasn't the real deal. I could deny it all I wanted, but I couldn't ignore what was staring me in the face.

Should... should I make a move? My wings were pinned against the stone, but I could move my arm. I started shifting my arm to slide it behind her back and onto her shoulder. Slowly, carefully, like a thief rappelling into a jewelry store. My heart was about to beat through my rib cage. Was this really happening? Was I really doing it?

Reason hit me like a freight train. Abort, stupid! Abort!

My brain hit the escape button just as the sun slipped below the horizon. “Oh crap, you know what? Ty asked me to help him… move the fridge. Tonight! Right now.” Hastily, I stood up and left Silverstream leaning against empty air. She caught herself with a talon before she tipped over.

Silverstream looked at me incredulously. “Uh…”

“This was fun. Really fun! We should do it again sometime okay bye!” I flapped hard to take off, but on the downstroke, my wing clipped stone and I fell off the ledge with a yelp. For a second I tumbled in a freefall, but I was able to twist myself around in midair and open my wings fully, arresting my fall. With my flight stabilized, I spread my wings wide and sped off toward home.

I didn’t slow down until I made it back to the apartment.

Next Chapter: Chapter 7: Fortune Favors the Bold Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 40 Minutes