Heyyy! It’s been so long since I had the chance to write to you. So much happened and I’ll tell you everything soon. Now, though, we’re on a train that crosses the whole Griffon Empire from west to east. It’s HUGE! The Empire, not the train. It takes TWO WEEKS to cross by taking the train while Equestria is only about three or four weeks on hoof. Crazy, right?

Anyway, we got attacked by TEN guys form a group Miss Harriet called The Guild. They’re some kind of a criminal syndicate spanning a good chunk of the Empire. She didn’t know much about them but they were the same guys who hurt her really bad when she was first coming to Equestria.

As much as I dislike it, only three of them survived the initial ambush and even I have to admit they kinda had it coming. My ear still stings and now my beard keeps slipping off. The good thing is that we managed to persuade Mister Magpie not to kill them all and Thirteen put them all into cocoons for us to snack on. I’ve been trying to give them nice dreams to make them turn their lives around and be nice but I think they might have a completely different idea about what being the good guy means.

I mean, I crafted one dream about fluffy changeling plushies everywhere so that the griffons would see us in a more positive light. Who wouldn’t want a plush version of let’s say the boss, I hear you ask? I would, definitely. Well, griffons apparently aren’t that easy to persuade. Dreams are difficult if you’re not a proper infiltrator and they can turn bad really quickly, and this one kinda ended with us running from a horde of stuffed Elevens. They caught us and wanted to eat us but they didn’t have any teeth and only soft mouths so it tickled and I couldn’t stop laughing. The griffons kept screaming, though, I’m not sure why. It’s not like they could have been hurt or anything.

The next time I tried a dream with copies of Miss Gem. Ummm… I don’t want to talk about it, it got a little weird. On the other hole, I learned several new words and we kinda refilled what little lust Thirteen and I can hold, which isn’t much to be honest. The good part is that we’re not starving anymore, at least as long as we spend most of our time hibernating.

Oh, I mentioned this before - I lost my left ear during the Guild attack. Don’t worry, I’ll grow it back as soon as I get some real love. Right now, though, it’s just a numb stump and I can’t move my head too quickly or my beard slips off and hangs on one ear, which looks downright silly.

And yes, I have my dwarf beard back. Boss, I mean the magical message from him, said that Seven made it into a real Beard of Holding which means it’s not just me who can pull stuff out of it. I didn’t have a chance to play with it yet because I’m only supposed to either eat or sleep. I know everyone means well but I feel alright.

I still miss not having to think about hunting for love, that’s true. I wish I knew what’s wrong with my body.

Well, Miss Harriet definitely means well, Thirteen is a bit… overzealous, and Mister Magpie simply wants me out of the way.

Anyway, Miss Harriet said we’d be in some city called Wilbur’s Pass tomorrow and that’s where we should get off. Can you imagine it? Miss Harriet is almost home. And then we’ll get to see a real DRAGON!

I mean, I saw Mister Vertradict before when they brought him to the hive but he was too busy to talk or anything. Miss Harriet said her dad was a red dragon too, a big difference from the gold and black of Mister Vertradict.

And that’s all for today, booksy. I should go to bed again. Maybe I’ll try to give the griffons a dream with Two tonight, that could be a less tempting experience than Miss Gem and less scary than a horde of plushlings.

The noise of the train already barely noticeable with the group being on it for so long smooths out and they all start feeling the effects of gradual deceleration, or at least they would if they were alert and conscious. Magpie, though, has been awake for the entire last leg of the journey, waiting for exactly this moment.

He immediately pokes the least questionable place of Harriet he can reach and twitches away when her skin immediately grows tiny tendrils that try to grab his talon in response.

“Gets weirder every minute,” he shakes his foreleg.

“Mhmm?” Harriet opens her eyes immediately after and Magpie puts her backpack in front of her muzzle.

“We’re getting off right now. The train started slowing down, which means we’re at most half a mile from the station.”

“Whuh? We still have time-”

“No, we don’t!” he leans closer to her face, “I’m not willing to wait and see if someone is ready and waiting for us at the station.”

“Oh...” Harriet admits that he’s absolutely right for once, “Alright, alright, I’m awake.”

The griffon is already shaking Thirteen awake. She’s been sleeping by one of the three green cocoons with Guild members in them.

“Get up, weirdling, we’re here,” he says, tossing her bag in front of her face as well, “Wake the idiot up.”

“I’m gonna wake you up...” grumbles Thirteen to herself as she escapes hibernation much quicker now than when they first tried it on the train. It gets a lot easier every time, both falling asleep and waking up.

Three reacts to her mental touch quickly as well and opens his eyes while still hugging a second cocoon.

“Is it breakfast time already?” he stretches his hoofsies and yawns which makes Thirteen quietly ‘squee!’ to herself.

“No, we’re supposed to get off of the train before it stops.”

“Huh?”

“Someone might be waiting to ambush us,” replies Harriet passing by.

“Alright, can you break the cocoons or something?” asks Magpie, “I don’t want to leave any traces of us behind.”

“What about the griffons?” asks Harriet, turning to Thirteen, “Can you wipe their memories of meeting us?”

“I can’t, that’s a bit too advanced for me,” Thirteen shakes her head, “I can confuse them a little so that they think we left earlier and went elsewhere.”

“And the cocoons?” Magpie butts in.

“Those will melt quickly if Three helps me.”

“Do it,” orders the griffon.

In less than two minutes, Three is chomping down on the last bit of green goo while Thirteen licks the remains of the sludge off of the final griffon.

One of the griffons moans and his breathing quickens. Magpie notices and grunts.

“Hmmph, you get off and I’ll knock the guy out.”

All three other members of the group look straight at him with undisguised suspicion.

“What?” Magpie adds, “It’ll be just a little bonk on the head, I promise. I know how to knock someone out properly, neither of you do.”

“I can do that too,” objects Harriet.

“Oh really? Would you risk safely knocking me out on the first try if you had to?” the griffon raises an eyebrow.

“Well...” Harriet hesitates, giving Magpie an opening.

“You know, without a concussion from which I wouldn’t wake up or a punch in the guts that wouldn’t liquify my insides.”

Harriet sighs.

“You’re right, I don’t know my full strength yet.”

“Good, then grab the two and jump off. We’re running out of time,” he nods towards the cargo door already open by Thirteen.

Soon, Magpie is left alone with three waking up griffons. Without ceremony, he pulls out a knife and slits each one’s throat.

“I can’t stand listening to more of the bleeding hearts’ complaints,” he mutters as he wipes off his forelegs and his dagger, checks around one final time for any clues that might lead to them, closes the cargo door, and leaves through the roof hatch.

Within half an hour, the group walks through the barely lit streets led by Harriet who laughs to herself, earning a surprised glance from everyone.

“Last time I was here, I thought this was a huge metropolis bustling with griffons and even ponies. Don’t laugh, up until that point all I’d seen was Windy,” she shakes her head, “After the last half a year... all I can see is a small dump. Travelling around the world spoils you in a way.”

“Can’t say, really,” Magpie shrugs, “But I grew up in Bloodstone so no big difference from Manehattan.”

“The Redtalon ancestral home, hmmm?” Harriet gives him a smug grin.

“Not now!” Magpie hisses back, “Not here! Do you want to get us killed?”

“You know, I’m not big on politics but I’m pretty sure that if anyone here heard us, they’d be more likely to help us rather than rat us out to the Legion.”

“I’m not risking anything. We have enough supplies to get to Windy, right?”

“We really should look around for a caravan and guards, Magpie.”

“No, we’re not involving anyone we don’t necessarily have to. Gem left me in charge-”

“I have to put my hoof down on this,” Harriet stares him down, “How long have you been away? Were you even here for the uprising? No. This is Redtalon land. The Legion might answer to the Emperor but the griffons around here certainly don’t. We need information. Even when I was leaving, Windy was partly cut off by a corrupted territory. Who knows how things are now or if we even have the supplies to take the safe route?”

Magpie ponders objecting again but he has to admit to himself that there is something to what Harriet is saying.

Wilbur’s Pass is a just a simple town, small city if one is really generous with the description, with several business buildings around the train station in its center and housing spreading in a circle around it, along with small stalls and the occasional local business. It has one terrifying similarity to an actual metropolis like Griffonstone these days, though, which is that the streets are silent and empty. Even the light from the house windows around is dim, likely because there’s a stricter limit to how much electricity a household is allowed to draw here.

Under Harriet’s guidance, they reach a tavern near a caravan rest stop and Harriet walks inside.

Gasps, clicks, and the tumbling of furniture greet her, culminating in a shotgun blast she can barely feel ricocheting off of Harriet’s chest scales.

“Right, I probably should have expected that,” she looks around the big room with several griffons hiding behind overturned tables and the owner staring at her in horror with a shotgun still aimed at her, “I’m not here to eat anyone, everybody calm down,” one of her back tentacles salutes to ease tension. It works about as well as one would expect as the owner backs off behind the counter.

Harriet pauses while Magpie pushes past her.

“We just need to buy some supplies, that’s all,” he says. The griffons gasp again and Magpie facetalons when he realizes Three has walked inside between Harriet’s legs.

“Hello,” he waves with a big smile, “We’re not here to eat or bother anyone. I have candy if you want some,” he shakes a small pouch around his neck, “It’s minty.”

“The damn darkness, talking Corrupted, and now brain-eating bugs...” the bartender slash owner rolls his eyes and slumps onto a chair behind the counter, “The world’s really going to shit.”

“Agreed,” Magpie walks up to the counter, ignoring the other guests who are slowly and carefully returning the furniture to upright position, “Look, we just need to buy some food and batteries if you have spares. We have the gold and gems.”

The owner glares at him.

“Look, boy, there’s nothing to buy these days. These guys,” he points around the tavern, “are here to chat, since it’s the only way to pass time other than listening to crazy morons on the radio.”

“If there’s not a black market supplier around here then I’m a unicorn in disguise,” Magpie looks straight at the owner and tilts his head.

For a brief moment, the owner’s eyes flicker to a group of three griffons at the corner table who seemingly haven’t been taken aback by Harriet’s entrance, judging by them not busy picking up shattered glasses and fixing their chairs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Magpie smirks, “I totally believe-”

The owner ignores him completely as Harriet walks up to the counter.

“Sir, we just need to get to Windy and we’d like to know how the situation is around here. I live- lived- come from there and I’ve been away for over half a year, way since before the sky disappeared. I’m worried about the griffons there.”

“Yeah, must have been quite the trip if you haven’t started off like that,” he looks up at Harriet’s back tentacles casually wiggling in the air.

“It was,” she says simply, “We checked the caravan station by the east gate and there’s no one there.”

“Take a wild guess why,” the griffon scowls and for the first time Harriet feels it’s not aimed towards her or the changelings, “Fucking Irongrips are fortifying their land while letting us rot under crippling sanctions since Veronica’s uprising. We’re not getting disaster relief, we’re not getting increased GIL presence, and we can’t even raise a proper fucking militia to stop that black shit to the east,” he nods towards Harriet, “from growing over everything. Imperials would shoot us first because they don’t have the balls to fight real Corrupted. I used to sympathize with Veronica at first but then she fucked everything up by licking Legius’ boots. Win through your power or die in a ditch like a true Redtalon.”

“What happened?” Magpie hops on the nearest bar stool, “I’ve been away for years myself. And you know what? If you don’t have supplies, do you have something to drink?” he jingles a pouch of gold and gems, “I don’t mind paying a little extra for a lesson in recent history.”

The owner nods and disappears into the back room. When he returns, even Three has managed to climb on the stool made for someone as big as a griffon. He points a bottle of spirits at Harriet and Thirteen.

“We’ll have some too,” says Three.

“Not a good idea to start proving you’re a real adult by getting wasted,” Harriet glances his way, “Not to mention that Thirteen is so far under the drinking age that she’d need a pair of binoculars to see it.”

“That’s not it,” Three shakes his head, “We can’t digest it anyway without some shapeshifting. I’m not sure we can use it in the same way but the boss can mix the alcohol with some goop and spit out balls of fire.”

“Great, that’s a reeeeally fantastic argument for me selling you this,” the owner grumbles but pours a glass for everyone.

Magpie tosses a gem on the counter.

“And the story?” he adds.

“I’m not a big politics buff but you hear rumors in this line of work,” the owner shrugs, “As far as I know, Veronica Redtalon spent several years by killing off everyone in the line of succession for the Bloodstone throne. She got screwed, though, because even after she was the last Redtalon heir, the sitting head of the family didn’t let her succeed them on account of being a female. A year ago, give or take, she got fed up and joined forces with the Emperor’s Grand Vizier Legius who had some secret research that would help him overthrow the Irongrips and become the Emperor himself. Veronica would become the head of Redtalons as a reward. I heard that the three corrupted territories in the Empire are the result of Legius’ research. Some kind of a corruption spreading bomb or something.”

“What a great idea to corrupt the place you want to rule...” Magpie facetalons.

“Power-hungry morons fighting each other while normal griffons get ground up in the gears of the system. What’s new?” the tavern owner sneers, “Anyway, Legius got killed, Veronica vanished, and everyone in the Redtalon lands got royally screwed. With no disaster relief, I can’t even imagine how things are beyond the corrupted territory to the east.”

“Windy!” Harriet sighs and her back tentacles slump down.

“Yeah, no one has come there and back since the darkness started. Everyone’s stuck either where they were when the sky disappeared or after the public transport stopped.”

“That’s really bad...” Harriet frowns, “Windy is pretty much a farming village. Without light, caravans, and trade they have no way of getting food.”

“If you’ve been away for so long then don’t forget the corruption spreading. I heard the Imperials had some way to suppress the spread they were trying in Drachenberg but none of that tech will ever get to us. It takes too long on paw now to get to Windy if you want to avoid the corruption because all the old roads are grown over. Fucking Irongrips.”

“We should head off then if we can’t buy anything lasting,” says Harriet, a little giddy and not in a good way.

“So, this Veronica is your sister?” asks Harriet as the group walk out of Wilbur’s Pass via the east gate. The air is a little wet and the cold ground crunches under their boots but the darkness makes it impossible to see how far corruption has really spread. Harriet recalls that there should be several hills ahead before entering the corrupted territory since Wilbur’s Pass is situated in a small valley.

“Is, was... probably the latter although it doesn’t matter, really,” Magpie shrugs, “I doubt the Irongrips would let her live.”

“So you’re the last Redtalon?”

Magpie sighs.

“Will you just let it go? I might be the last one or Cassius might have just executed Veronica who already wiped the slate clean… almost, and my parents must still be rulers of Bloodstone. Minor uprisings and fights between the noble families have always been a thing in the history of the Empire and a full-scale retribution by the ruling family would only unite the other noble houses against the Emperor.”

“Has your sister ever tried to kill you?” asks Thirteen this time. Magpie huffs, looking straight ahead.

“I survived one assassination attempt and avoided one before I got screwed during the expedition to the north. Both happened… more than ten years ago so I doubt she had her talons in it.”

“What happened?” Thirteen presses on.

“Someone tried to poison me but we had taste testers so that’s one, and...” Magpie frowns, “A hired courtesan pretended to fall in love with me. It was the first time in my life I was with someone who wasn’t a paid company. Paid by me or my family, I mean. The relationship lasted for over a year and then she tried to kill me after one night together. My family hired an investigator while I was recovering in a hospital and he discovered that it was a plot to get me to share some family secrets I didn’t know anyway due to being so far in the succession line I’d need a good car to even get to the finish. When she realized that, she was supposed to dispose of me. Some bleeding stab wounds later, I choked her to death. My first love, my first kill, my own youthful stupidity,” he says in a strange, flat tone which Harriet hasn’t heard from him before, not even when talking about the minotaur arena and torture.

“Is that why you’re so strange around mares?” asks Thirteen.

“Story time over,” Magpie growls at her, “If you want to start a career as a psychiatrist, go practice on someone else. Anyone else, really. Look, there’s Three and he thinks he can hug the sun back.”

“I don’t think that...” mumbles Three, “Though it isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“IT LITERALLY IS!” Magpie’s neck cracks as he turns his head too quickly to glance at Three, receiving only a bright smile and a giggle. He looks back, rubs his neck, and sighs, “Perfect, now even the idiot is making fun of me. I’m so glad we’re almost done with this trip.”

“The hardest part is still ahead of us,” interrupts Harriet in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

“How come?” asks Magpie, “It’s not as if we haven’t been travelling through corrupted territory before.”

“We were lucky to avoid all corrupted griffons around Manehattan. We won’t get ponies in these parts and I’m not crazy about encountering a griffon Protector or… worse.”

“Are you thinking about a Queen?”

“I haven’t heard about those in the Empire but it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Magpie breathes out, “So, how about we take the route north around the territory? We might make it if we ration our supplies properly.”

“No,” says Harriet firmly.

“It won’t get us killed-”

“No! I need to know what’s happening in Windy.”

“You need to get there first,” Magpie presses on.

“We won’t be in any more danger than we already are,” Harriet shakes her head.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. It’s been bothering me for a while. I’ve been feeling it even in Wilbur’s Pass but I couldn’t place it. The tendrils of the corrupted territory are already inside the city and we’re walking on tainted soil. Any ‘safe’ route wouldn’t add a week, rather closer to a month if we wanted to avoid any potential encounters completely. I won’t wait that long and you don’t have the food.”

“I’m with Miss Harriet!” says Thirteen.

“Me too,” adds Three, “We don’t have the love, sorry.”

“It’s your funeral,” Magpie shrugs.

“You’re not coming then?” asks Thirteen.

“Of course I am coming. I promised Gem I’d get you to Windy or whatever is left of it and I wanted to make sure you get there as safely as possible. If you don’t want that, it’s your call,” Magpie picks up the pace to walk first, “Unlike you, I couldn’t care less about getting eaten.”