“Behold, the Idol of Aventa.”

Gallus stared at it… and wasn’t quite sure what to think.

Both Gallus and Giselle were in a large circular chamber directly beneath the roots of the smaller skytree that dominated the coliseum floor. All along the walls were vast murals of various Featherhearts over the years. If Gallus wasn’t miscounting, every single Green Featherheart had their name or portrait down here somewhere on the massive stone wall. Some very important ones even had busts placed in a circular stone ledge halfway between the Idol and the murals. Giselle was one of them, but that didn’t surprise Gallus in the slightest.

After they’d first entered and he’d studied the place, his eyes wandered all over the huge room, he zeroed in on the pedestal in the center. Atop it lay something he’d never thought he’d see in person.

The Idol of Aventa.

He’d seen pictures, of course, but those didn’t do the thing justice. The light coming from reflected sunlight—mirrors, he assumed—made the entire thing positively glow. A golden sculpture with a green orb in the very center, wing-like spirals moving around it. In truth, it looked almost identical to the Idol of Boreas, save for the orb. Just being in its presence made him feel light-headed. And that was enough for Gallus to keep his distance, even if he couldn’t deny a strange desire to get closer.

“You need not be afraid,” the queen said as she brushed her claw against the golden relic. “It cannot change the unwilling. And none can be changed save for those who know the words of power. They must speak it aloud while within a mile or two the Idol.”

“‘Words of power?’”

Giselle studied the Idol for a time before answering. “You know, even after all these years, that part confuses me. I experienced it myself, and it still confuses me. The band you wear around your arm does not signify you losing. It signifies your acceptance of a new fate. What few know is it is possible to refuse that fate. Very few refuse, but it is not unheard of. Either way, once that new fate is set, you somehow know the words—no matter if you’re Green or Red. They just appear in your mind. Speak them… and the change begins. It’s a most… pleasant experience.”

Gallus swallowed hard, trying to keep the sight of the Queen of the Griffons practically fondling the Idol of Aventa from turning him on even more than he already was. It was a losing battle.

“Why have you brought me here, Your Majesty?” Gallus asked in a desperate attempt to stay in control. “Your brother wasn’t exactly… uh… forthcoming.”

Giselle turned from the Idol and walked toward Gallus, her claws behind her back as she studied him.

“What I am about to say does not leave this room, Mister Gallus,” she said in a voice that made it very clear there would be dire consequences if the words did leave the room. “The truth is that the griffons are on the edge of fading away entirely. Not through force of arms or even history, but through simple numbers.”

Gallus blinked. The last thing he was expecting was anything about population statistics.

Giselle began to march around him, looking straight ahead at something he couldn’t see. “Before I won the bid for the throne, I was the Head of the Griffonstone Census Bureau, Mister Gallus.”

“The… what?” Gallus frowned. “I thought you were an athlete.”

She waved the comment away. “A natural outlet from my daily flight regiment I used to share with Griswald. A fun time, but after returning home from the Equestrian Games, I decided my House needed my mind more than it needed my wings.”

“Of… of course, ma’am. I still haven’t heard of that… bureau, though.”

“It’s not surprising. It’s a very minor agency in the bureaucracy of Griffonstone. While the throne may have been unoccupied, the griffon people still needed trade, an economy, services and other such things. The Bureau allowed us to help the griffons still survive even if the head of our government remained untended.” Giselle shook her head. “Pure insanity that some believe that griffons just decided they didn’t need a government after King Grover’s supposed disgrace.”

“If… if you say so…” Gallus blinked and tried not to stare at the Idol. It kept bringing up… ideas.

“What this all means is that I’ve seen the records, Mister Gallus. I’ve seen the trends. And here is the truth of the matter.”

She came to a stop between him and the Idol, her bright eyes boring into his.

“Every year, there are fewer and fewer females being born. Patriarchists, such as former Grand Admiral Gass and a great deal of the military old guard fill their soldiers' heads with nonsense about males being the ‘true warriors of the griffon race.’ With the struggles our people have gone through, our nation is believing we are constantly under threat. And statistically—”

“In the past,” Gallus interjected, remembering one of Princess Twilight’s lessons. “‘The belief of the griffons had a noticeable impact on the gender of children being born. During peacetime, more females are born. During times of conflict…’”

He trailed off when he realized where this was going.

“Children are born almost exclusively male,” she said with a nod. “We have the opposite problem from Equestrians: too many males instead of too many females. And when a race doesn’t have enough females… it’s a simple matter of statistics.”

“We can’t be that close,” Gallus insisted, stepping closer to Giselle. “Griffons would know!”

“Griffons have only just now decided to start caring about their national pride. The hundreds of clans scattered throughout griffon lands and beyond have existed for over a hundred and fifty years without Griffonstone, a king or a queen. The real reason I haven’t been challenged is nogriff cares about the skytree wood throne,” she hissed out the words in a cold fury. “My brother gave you the first part of the briefing. I’m here to give you the endgame.”

Gallus took a few steps back, his eyes going wide and his wings twitching in time with his tail.

“If we don’t find a way to change the griffon culture within two generations, there may be enough damage done to the way we think that there won’t be any females in the third generation.”

It felt like somegriff had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. “That close…”

“We need a symbol, Gallus,” Giselle said, taking a few steps forward and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Even the most staunch of Patriarchs would have a hard time refuting the importance and honor of the Featherhearts if one of the most revered and celebrated griffons of our era, an actual international war hero, chose to become a Green. You would become a living beacon to show our people that the Featherheart Championship is something that’s vital. Not to mention that you would be solidifying my claim to the throne so if one of those other clans challenged me, it would become so much harder for the Patriarchists. If you win the Championship, then the most famous griffon right now becomes a living avatar for everything the Patriarchs believe, even if you denounce them verbally.”

Gallus felt as if he were sitting on a cloud that was rapidly coming apart. “You’re… you’re putting a lot of pressure on me here, Your Majesty.”

“I know,” Giselle replied, her voice a little sad. “And it’s not fair. You’re caught in a political game that you weren’t ready for. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But I’ve checked the numbers more times than I care to remember. We need a miracle. We need a symbol. And I believe that needs to be you.”

Gallus tried to come up with something to say. Something to do. It wasn’t that he was incredibly attached to being male, but to suddenly give it up? That… that was a big decision. And he knew how this worked. He would never be able to go back. The Idol of Aventa only transformed in one direction, save for the Alpha. It was said there was once a third Idol that could go the other way, but that was pure mythology.

“I… I have to…” Gallus swallowed again, wishing he had something to drink. “Can I think about this?”

Giselle nodded slowly. “Of course. You have until the end of the Championship, Gallus. But you’ll consider it?”

“I… I’ll consider it,” Gallus said slowly. “Consider.”

Giselle lifted a claw. “Understood. Just remember, Gallus, nearly every male griffon has a piece inside of them that is all-too-curious to know what it’s like on the other side. And while bearing a child isn’t always fun, being female has a lot of benefits. Ask your two companions.”

“I… um… I’m not sure if I’m ready for that conversation.”

“I think they may be more eager to talk about it than you know.” Giselle cracked a smile for the first time since they’d come down here. “Well, maybe. Miss Smolder might have a different opinion. I’ve never been able to get a read on dragons. Now, come… there’s one more piece of evidence I’d like to show you.”

“And what’s that?”

“I thought you might like the privilege of being the first Orange Contender in a few decades to actually get to experience something rather… special.”

Giselle laughed as she guided him away from the Idol of Aventa. Gallus couldn’t help but give it one last look. For a split second, he thought he saw the figure of a golden griffoness watching him curiously, but when he looked closer, it was gone.

“That’s assuming you want to see the Red Chambers,” Giselle called, making him hurry to catch up.

“You mean… the Bordello?” he gasped, then clapped his claw over his beak.

She laughed. “Don’t let them hear you call it that. While it’s impossible to force someone to speak the Words of Ascendance, I’ve heard stories of griffon girls who helped some males get far closer than they might have otherwise for being a little too mouthy…”

As Gallus fell into step beside her, he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Ooooh, this should be good~!

I wonder why the Idol of Aventa looks so similar to the Idol of Boreas~?