Gilda took a deceptively long time to realize she hadn’t awakened and somehow found herself alone in a dark place. It was a dream, but the dream was missing. She couldn’t understand her situation in any other way. It didn’t necessarily make any sense, but it explained the bodiless sensation.

She couldn’t feel herself, or anything. She didn’t even feel as distressed as she should over her situation, and the overall sensation something had broken. As though her ability to dream had didn’t work as it should. Which didn’t make much sense either.

She couldn’t speak, she had no beak. She couldn’t move, she had nothing to move. She couldn’t feel, there was nothing to feel. She could barely hold a thought. Even the idea something was wrong eluded her as soon as she held to it.

“Do not fret, My Child. It will draw her attention.”

Oh, nice. The voice was back. But something felt different. She could hear it as something outside her own thoughts, rather than it intruded in them. It sounded pleasant, a melodic voice, and it didn’t speak in the Common Equestrian she spent her whole life listening to. Instead, it spoke in an ancient language she, somehow understood, despite never having learned, or even hearing it in her life.

Though, she had heard it before. She spoke it before. It felt like singing. Like one of those overplayed theater pieces in the Canterlot Theater she had to watch one night because Rainbow’s friend wouldn’t shut up about it.

Except instead of ponies neighing, she sung the most perfect of songs. But the voice nor herself didn’t sing. Their language sounded just like singing. It felt unusual, but right.

“Can you… Hear me?” Gilda tried and, much to her surprise, her voice came out even if she had no beak, no mouth, no lungs or anything.

“Always.” The voice answered, melodical and eerie.

“Who are you? Why are you talking to me?” She asked, though she already knew the answer. She had merely forgotten. She recalled her dream with Princess Luna.

She couldn’t think straight then. But in the present, she could. As she could remember hearing the storm in her dream. Outside. And the crying griffon. Most definitively, a griffon female. ‘Trying to get in’, into her head. Well, she certainly seemed like she got inside.

The voice she had heard before she had been born. If that made any sense. It was how she recalled it anyways.

It told her what she was, and that the world was hers before she was born. If that made any sense either.

“Just… Who are you?!” She asked again. Things just didn’t connect in Gilda’s head, and she felt like they should. That she should know that voice she recognized.

“I am the Cry in the Storm what brought your race into existence. I am the Mother of Storms who gave you the world and for whom the raptor in your soul cries for deliverance. I am the Allmother who first ruled the world. I am the shame you hide from. I am Mother Harpy.”

Suddenly Gilda awakened.

Everything was different, though. She was also the same she was when she fought those… Vile creatures, before they burned her in a stake. Much younger, though. Younger still than Gilda herself, but she liked that body… Memories associated with it made her recall her mother didn’t allow her acquiring many of the bad habits she had in the present time. Everything felt weird and disconnected. Conciliating memories from two different lives confused her, but she managed.

Regardless, she found it easier to fully immerse herself in that reality. She assumed the role of the young griffoness. No more than sixteen when her mother deemed her ready to be presented. To whom? It should be obvious. To the Emperor? Yes. Him. She wasn’t sure yet why, but she supposed memories would return to her at the opportune time. It felt like learning a skill, the more she remembered, the easier it became.

She never been so happy in her life. Her peers started seeing her as an adult. Finally, they stopped talking to her as though she was inept at everything. Finally ready to begin her training in earnest.

She blinked as her eyes adapted to the dark room. Deferentially dark, as she liked to think. She could see perfectly in the light given by the flames radiating light from the four corners of the room. They had, each, a large pyre made of black granite holding tall flames. She stepped on black marble, brought from the quarries in the southern Equestrian Heartland. They came a long way, from the birthplace of the Diamond Dogs. They now had meaning to their pathetic existence, drawing such wonderful stone from the bones of the earth to serve a higher purpose.

Of course, they worked in mines all over the Empire, but she didn’t really feel like thinking about Diamond Dogs in her special day.

A the table waited before her, made of dark granite with grooves for draining liquids efficiently. A smaller table next to it held surgical instruments. Cutting tools and spanners. A few fixators and clamps.

It amazed her the same blacksmiths who made swords, maces, axes, spearheads and such, could also make exquisite devices of such precision. She barely believed the ones on the small table belonged to her. Her mother ordered them crafted and personalized especially for her. Was she very rich? Or did she have such prestige the greatest toolmakers in the Empire would compete for her favor?

It took a while, but the soldiers finally brought him. A young zebra with a bang of mane in front of his eyes. Deep purple eyes. If she didn’t know, she would never have guessed he was a warrior, despite his strong physique. He looked so innocent. Though probably not a very good warrior, considering the imperial soldiers captured in the attack to his city. Village. Wherever those things lived. He had been given a special honor, thanks to him actually trying to fight. Not many equines did.

She supposed she ought to thank him, if he would understand what honor he had bestowed upon him, coming from such a distant place, far past the ocean. But she knew better than try and talk to one of the prisoners. He wasn’t friendly. They didn’t understand the importance of the role they played.

He stared malevolently at her, as though he had the power to harm her in any way. But at least he didn’t shame himself trying to escape or begging as others had done. It would have ruined the whole thing. They were supposed to be strong and brave. This one would be brave to the end, and she found respect in her for him. Even if he was an equine who thought he could pick up a weapon and fight against his masters.

The soldier who brought him kept close but looked at her with the utmost reverence and respect. A large griffon male of tan body and white head with serious golden eyes. He wore the temple guard’s armor of golden chainmail with a golden peytral and an ogive shaped helmet. He had his heavy ceremonial axe of iron with him too.

Her mother entered soon after. A large and imposing griffon female with reddish fur and salmon plumage on her head, but fiery and perpetually angry red eyes. It didn’t really look very pleasant on the eyes under her blue satin cape held in place by a small chain of iron links, though. She wore it because it symbolized her position, and none would even think of mentioning it looked bad.

The older griffon sat on the floor and joined her paws together as she did whenever Gilda, or whoever she was in that life must pay full attention to her. Stern as always. “The celebration has begun. The Emperor and the Empress have started the rites and the Golden Guard has the sacrifices lined up. Are you ready? Do you need any help?”

“Yes, mother.” She answered respectfully. “And no, I do not. You are not supposed to assist me. She will know.”

The older griffon nodded. “The Emperor is here, with his entire family and his court. She Herself watches. You are my daughter. You must be perfect. She will not accept anything less.”

“Yes, mother.” Gilda nodded. “I will not disappoint you.”

At that, the zebra grumbled something, impatient and defying. The gold-clad soldier growled and slapped him with the back of his paw. Her mother told him something in his own language, and he seemed surprised, but then launched an angry tirade of words Gilda didn’t understand.

Her mother ignored him, shaking her head and pointed at the table. “It is time and I care not if he understands the value of being chosen or not.”

The soldier shoved the zebra to lay on the bed, on his back, and tied his hooves go the corners with the leather straps. He stood on his hindlegs, bringing his heavy iron axe to bear, raising it above. Then he brought it down and the zebra's head fell on the cushioned basket under the table.

It happened so fast it almost surprised Gilda. Just like that, the zebra was dead. So fast she didn’t even have time to be shocked at the spurt of blood. And the confusing memories made it all the worse. She only kept her composure because it was a dream, or whatever the hell it was.

That said, the lifeless stare would have freaked her out of her mind, if she hadn’t gotten used to seeing dead heads. Her young self watched countless times as her mother or the other priestesses did the same ritual she would perform.

Confusing memories danced together in a blurry of intertwined life experiences. Too hard figuring out which were hers and which belonged to the young hen. Priestess… Whatever the word meant. Nonetheless, the young griffoness focused her mind on her task, not on the meaning of words. Gilda had no time to think as her thoughts were dragged along.

She had limited time, so she acted. It helped dealing with the fact the zebra guy was alive and talking less than a minute ago and suddenly wasn’t anymore. Part of her wanted to drop on her side and puke, but another, in control, coldly took the instruments in her paws and worked. Her paws still trembled though. Cold as she was, her nerves jittered. Not only because her performance mattered and her mother stood to her side, but because she took part in the death of another intelligent creature. It seemed easy when she watched the others. Did they ever feel the same?

The ritual was important, and his sacrifice was the thing which kept his village alive in the end. She demanded it. But he had talked to her seconds ago! She did the best to keep his face out of her mind… Focus on the value of his end, even if he didn’t understand. It helped.

It would keep the Empire whole, griffons and the other races in their respective places. For She overwatched everything, and as long as She remained in her throne, all would be well.

Gilda and the younger griffon both blocked such thoughts out of their minds and quickly shaved the fur from the side of his chest with the proper shaving knife. The metal was cold to the touch and its blade so sharp it glided past the hair effortlessly.

Then she left it on the smaller table, and with the short knife she cut open his skin past the leather. Blunt-pointed scissors made their way past the white connective tissue, tearing it and opening it, rather than cutting. Past what little fat the young and fit zebra had, separating them apart through to the red and white muscle.

The nastiness went away, and her mind focused on not screwing up her job. Moist, slippery, and smelling of blood. Unnerved and at the same time clinical in her approach. She opened a window. Spread muscles apart with the scissors as she should not damage the valuable source of nourishment. Or at least should do it as little as possible, out of respect. If anything, She required prey and sacrificed died quickly.

His bones would be burned, his muscles would be served in diverse dishes to the Emperor’s own, and his liver given to the warrior who had captured him. None of that mattered more than a fleeting thought. Her real goal was harvesting his heart.

Spreaders helped her keep her access open and identifying the muscles all the way to the ribs.

She cut the connective tissue and another spreader helped pull apart his ribs and then she pulled his lung, pink and healthy, out of the way. The smell of blood did strange things as it crawled up her nostrils and made everything slippery. Conflicting feelings made the fur on her back stand and her beak salivate, but she held everything at bay. She could see it. The pericardium, in the mess of flesh. So much more nebulous than the drawings of her teachers. She identified the major arteries, such as pulmonaries and the aorta, not to mention the trachea and esophagus. But she didn’t focus on them too much. They were a reference.

She cut open the sac which contained his still beating heart. She cut arteries, veins and nerves. Blood pooled on the table and stained her fur and her paws. Her mind raged with a flurry of contradicting emotions between excitement and disgust. She held her exterior stone cold and stoic as she removed the heart, still beating in her paws, and placed it on the tray next to her. Stupid thing was eerily warm, and the blood made it slippery. She did it as fast she dared, under penalty of dropping it, and kept her trembling paws as firm as she could. Her mother watched…

She cursed under her breath. The pressure starte getting to her. She must be fast. She must do it right. She harvested the heart of a guy alive minutes ago! At least the hardest part ended. Or at least the more ‘technical’ part.

She focused on the tray that kept the heart.

It was made of electrum, with the symbol of the griffon wings etched and filled with gold and white gold. The blood pooled up on it and Gilda stared at her mother, who nodded at her while the soldier opened a door for her. The light of fires in the night entered with the smell of dry sand and the hot desert air seasoned with the smell of roasting meat and aromatic herbs.

She walked through an open corridor off the side of a pyramid, with the ceiling missing due to the slanted wall, carrying the tray with her beak. In the back of her mind, part of her recoiled at the sight of the still beating heart, albeit slowly, and the blood pooling in the tray. Another held her panic at bay at the magnitude of what waited her. She kept her eyes down or she might not have the strength to move forward.

Walking out of the black floor her paws met with the hot sands and a crowd greeted her with thunderous cheer.

The night seemed dark as the giant bonfires and torches everywhere blinded her to the light of the stars. Only the moon was visible up above.

The temple city of Aen Hader surrounded her. She was born and spent her whole childhood there, learning and coexisting with others like her, destined to serve. The specific path she would be steered towards remained to be decided, but her journey really began there. To her sides stood giant stone grandstands filled with thousands of griffons. At the top of the one on the right was the Emperor’s podium where he, undoubtedly watched with his whole family and the imperial court.

She could almost feel his stare upon her.

To the other side, much of the same, sans the Emperor’s Podium. Thousands of griffons had come visit the holy city and witness the celebration around her. Between the stands her path took her over a sandy field with countless captive creatures tied to poles. Archers stood ready, paying attention to her young self, passing by with the tray and the sacrificial offering.

The crowd repeatedly chanted verses of praise to the Mother of Storms. The Allmother. Mother Harpy. All referring to a single being. All for Her, and Gilda, or whatever was the girl’s name she used to be in that life understood so. The confusing and the storm of emotions didn’t help though. Part horrified; part scared. Part excited, part anxious. The cheering of the crowds and the reverent chants. The strong metallic smell of blood which by itself revulsed and at the same time excited her. The cries of the captives. Hundreds, if not thousands, tied to the poles and waiting for whatever destiny had been reserved to them.

She found herself at the base of a tall stairway. A black pyramid covered in iron, tall as a small mountain. The iron still retained much of the heat after a day under the desert’s sun, but she did it anyway. She got used to it after a few steps.

And step by step, she climbed the stairs. She remembered her mother doing the very same… Not too fast as to end it too soon, nor too slow, as to bore the crowds. In the night before her mother talked to her, before she went into reclusion and preparation for the ritual. She said she should never mention it, but ‘She’ lived from their excitement. Her younger self’s job was to provide for both.

It was a climb and an effort, but she reached the summit of the black pyramid and there she found the Sanctum of the Holiest. Words Gilda didn’t know, and had no idea what they meant, but they held a deathly importance to her younger self. She gasped, finding herself at the entrance of a structure, no doors, only the flickering light of flames inside.

She didn’t tarry, walking inside with some hurry now she was so close. Past the entryway she found a dimly lit square atrium. Tall flames atop black pyres lit the room in consonance to a pair of smaller pyres between the forelegs of obsidian statues of a griffon female. They laid on their stomachs and with their wings pulled up high. Their heads above the flames, were adorned with arched headdresses and all manner of gold adornments with encrusted gems. Between the statues, a short flight of stairs led to an arching doorway hidden behind white curtains.

Torchlight from the other side allowed her to see the figure of a large griffon female behind it. The young griffon girl Gilda shared thought with gasped, almost let go of the tray. Her paws seemed heavy and her heart beat much too fast. The pungent odor of blood in her breath didn’t help and the tray seemed heavier by the second.

But she didn’t delay for long. She took small and reverent steps toward the curtains as the figure on the other side remained unmoving.

It felt like an eternity until she finally reached for the curtains and pulled one of its sides out of the way and the being on the other side revealed herself to her.

A female griffon. Large, tall. A powerful frame with an elegant shape covered in snow-white fur and fluffy feathers until her neck where her white feathers met her blackening plumage. Like a dark sheen of silver until it became black, framing her head of the same pure white. A crown of dark feathers pulling up to make her crest like a natural crown. She had an elegant jet-black beak with cold and harsh stormy-gray eyes locked on the young griffon girl. Gilda felt smaller than she already was before the elegant and terrifying creature.

A fearsome set of aquiline features stared down at Gilda and formed a lascivious grin.

Without a word, Gilda lowered her head and offered the heart to Her, taking a pair of steps up into her sanctum, where She sat on top of large pillows of white and black silk. The light came from behind, where iron statues of beautiful griffonesses, standing on their hindlegs, held lit torches. An open wall showed the dark desert under the moonlight, with its subtle and waving dunes.

With long and elegant black forelegs crowned with obsidian talons, She reached and pulled up Gilda’s beak to stare at her, speaking softly, but with a commanding tone. “Gulsana begat you, has she not? Her strong lineage is readily apparent on you.”

She didn’t answer. Instead resisted an urge to avoid her gaze, avert her eyes. But she nodded curtly shortly after.

“Who sired you?” The large griffoness kept Her eyes on her so intensely she worried.

“Gulbaz, Mother Harpy.” She spoke as softly and meekly as she dared. “Commander of His Grace’s Golden Guard.”

The large female then turned her attention to the offering in the tray. It still dribbled iron-smelling blood out of its vases and pulsated slowly. It tinted Her black limbs as She raised it above and let the red liquid smear Her black and white before she brought it down and Her beak teared into the meaty apex and more sticky blood dripped down Her face.

Sitting next to the pillows, Gilda kept her eyes on the mighty griffoness that delighted Herself with chunk, after chunk of dense and raw muscle her beak teared from the heart. She swallowed whole. Gilda, on the backseat to that young girl’s mind was torn between disgust and awe at the creature before her. It was a spectacle of macabre; she had just witnessed herself harvest the heart from that zebra guy as though it was a fruit hanging from a tree and then presented it to this…

Her size. Her elegance. Her pure physical beauty and might made the whole thing so surreal. She looked like something that shouldn’t exist. Too beautiful, too perfect. Too mighty and elegant. She wondered if that was how ponies felt before their Princesses.

And then… Eating a heart, oozing of blood and raw. Just… Raw meat. She understood the whole predator and carnivore thing. She really did get it and she didn’t even sweat it as much as some of the other griffons did. After all the things that happened to her even less… But there was something savage. Something uncivilized about it being raw. No. Not uncivilized. A better word was primal. There was something symbolic and primal in the whole ritual and maybe the girl’s thoughts dragged her own around, but she became mesmerized. Awed by that creature and Her act of consuming another creature’s heart.

Gilda was glad it was a dream. She could feel, somehow, it was a dream. A recollection from a past life, but through a dream.

When the great griffoness was done and She was liable to notice the young griffon girl staring at Her, Gilda lowered her head, but a blood-covered talon pulled her beak back up again.

“Tell me your name, My Child.” Her sultry voice and the smell of blood did weird things to Gilda she would rather not feel in public.

“I am called Ghadah.” Her eyes drifted down, despite her beak pulled up.

“Your sacrifice is accepted, Ghadah. And I welcome you into the Order.” She offered, with Her other paw, a strip of red, dense meat, dripping blood over the silky pillows. “I shall present you to the Emperor and your training begins now. Gulsana will be proud of you.”

It disgusted Gilda, but she didn’t have a choice. Ghadah opened her beak and allowed the other to feed her the dense raw muscle.

Damn… It tasted sweet and she realized she wouldn’t have rejected another sample.

Suddenly Gilda was herself again. Still in that same place and the great griffoness wiped her paws and beak with a fine piece of cloth. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore. She had in control of her faculties and her mind belonged to her again.

Then she licked a drop of blood that lingered in her beak. Why did it taste so damn sweet? Not sweet like a candy, but it was a strange taste to describe. It was coppery… But it tasted delicious.

“You still remember the taste of their blood. Zebras are not the best. Earth ponies are the sweetest to our tongues. Cooked meat is best, with the fats released and broken, not to mention muscle fibers and connective tissue.” She stared back at the great griffoness, letting her jaw hang at her smiling beak while she spoke. “Your digestive system was made for it, not for vegetal fibers and sugars. The brain recognizes good, nutritive food and rewards the creature. That is what you are feeling. It does taste of metal, but it tastes delicious to us. And repulsive to them. That is how it is supposed to be. You spent too long eating of their sugars in their candies and pastas. Your primitive brain remembers, however.”

“But raw meat can also be tasteful. Especially in the right context. And blood is like wine. It tastes different for every race, and one learns to identify it, as would a canterlotian sommelier.” She chuckled. “Of course, Canterlot did not exist at this time.”

She grinned at Gilda, then she turned to stare at a young griffon lady deeper in her alcove. She remained quiet and still and only when she shifted in her place Gilda managed to see her. She was big too. Like… Big as Grunhilda was big! For a second, she even thought it was her, but her coat had a different color.

“Leave us.” She commanded and the female jumped out of the bed of pillows. She had a strong physique under her steely-blue coat that had several scratch marks. Some of them were quite deep and Gilda flinched at the sight. Didn’t seem to bother the other griffoness, though. She had a quite beautiful plumage in her head and carried herself with a superior sophistication, like she thought too highly of herself. A playful smirk in her beak and a spark of devilishness in her blue eyes surrounded by cyan shadow, as though she knew something Gilda didn’t.

That was one heck of a punchable beak…

“Have fun out there.” The great white and black griffoness smiled wickedly at the other leaving before she acknowledged Gilda again and patted on the white pillows. When she hesitated at the recollection of the other griffoness, the larger one laughed. “Worry not, I will not hurt you. She is different. Wicked that one is, while you are more… Normal. Furthermore, you have questions; I will oblige.”

But before Gilda could ask her something, she continued. “You must accept however there are answers you are not prepared yet to understand. You spent too long far away, and your kind has forgotten much of what I have taught you.”

Okay, first, what the fuck?

“What are you?” Gilda just blurted out the question without thinking. She hadn’t noticed, but she was shaking and thinking straight after all that was not as simple as she thought. “Is this a dream?”

“Yes. This is a dream. My dream.” She insisted Gilda climbed onto the pillows, which she did after a second hesitation. For some reason she concluded that disobeying that griffoness would be a bad idea. “Worry not. You are tired. Your slumber is deep, and Luna is busy. We have time and I have restrained your ability to dream. She should have trouble finding you. As for your other question, I am the Beginning, and you already knew that.”

Yeah… Weirdly enough. The voice in her head. Those thoughts which intruded on her own. She, somehow, recognized the big griffon female. And She smiled at Gilda when the realization came to her.

Everything felt too new for her. Never, in her life had she even remotely considered such a being existed, much less had any relation to her in any way whatsoever.

“Are you… Responsible for the stuff that happened to me?” Her voice came out more sheepishly than she intended when she simply wanted to speak normally, but the whole thing was so outwardly bizarre and intimidating.

“Yes, and no.” The other reached for a small table with bottles of many shapes, colors and sizes. Uncorked one smelling of wine and offered some to Gilda in a fancy crystal chalice. “I have engineered the situation Griffonia finds itself in. It will facilitate Gilad becoming the Griffon King. It is his rightful place, after all, chosen by me. And I have little issues with causing suffering to those griffons. Adversity is a great teacher, and they will find their way back to me through it. As have you. You are special, however. As you have seen.”

Somehow a revelation and at the same time something obvious. She really should have realized by the visions she had. She just didn’t fully understand those.

“You are hurting griffons I care about.” Gilda growled. It seemed disrespectful and wrong, but she did anyway.

“Such fiery defiance!” The bigger one delighted. “Most who know me would not dare. I find it quite refreshing, in such a soul so special to me. I was wrong. This life has made you good, and you will be quite powerful. Your friends are quite lucky I have endeared myself so to you.”

Gilda just blinked at Her.

“Do not play coy.” She said plainly and laughed at Gilda’s surprise. “Privilege is such a fleeting thing. It changes with whoever has the sharpest talons. I have taught My Children to use it well, and it is such an easy lesson to learn for your kind. When the Dawnbringer would punish you for defending yourself, I would applaud you for being stronger and teaching My Commandment once more.”

Gilda frowned again as words came to the forefront of her mind, then she recited those words as though they had been ingrained in her head after exhaustive repetition. “Love your own infinitely. Hate your enemy infinitely. Take everything and give nothing. That is the Raptorial Creed. That is The Harpy’s Commandment.”

Gilda allowed herself a little guilty grin. “Princess Twilight would have a seizure at that.”

The bigger one shared in her grin. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, as much as the others, was never meant to exist as she does. The ponies were supposed to be nothing more than wardens of nature and serve their masters. In the very beginning, they were not even supposed to possess free-will. But it is something you are not prepared to understand quite yet. There are more important issues that we must discuss.”

“Celestia destroyed the concept of faith. Priestesses simply do not exist in the world anymore.” The big one explained as Gilda tasted the wine. It was probably the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. Present life, anyways. “It is a shame your brain lacks the language for you to experience that in its fullness. You have been relegated to such a limited life.”

Gilda stared at the glass. So, blood, okay. But fine wine, forget. Thanks, brain.

“We shall fix this soon enough. I will be delighted to show you our regional bloodwine.” The white and black one smiled as though they were having a pleasant conversation over cookies.

Geez. She just ate a heart Gilda had harvested off a prisoner, and She was already talking about wine. Maybe the worst was that Gilda actually looked forward to it. Why did she find it so easy to trust that big griffon lady? She experienced feelings she had never felt before. As though Ghadah’s… Was that her name? As though her thoughts lingered, or something.

The other griffoness interrupted her thoughts. “In this past life you were a Swordmaiden, one of the Emperor’s mates and one of his bodyguards. It was one of two paths a griffoness in that position would take. A Swordmaiden, or a Loremaster. Sharp sword and magic, or sharp tongue and mind. Both sides of my favored Children at the service of the Emperor. The first of My Children.”

“We lost a war, didn’t we?” Gilda sat and tried to make herself comfortable. “Wait… How did you get into my head? What about Princess Luna? Won’t she be suspicious?”

“As I said, you are not prepared to understand many of the answers to many of the questions you have. I will do my best to explain, however.” The large griffoness settled Herself on her pillows. “We lost much more than a war. The world used to be ours. But that is another story. The war you mean is a rather recent one. Emperor Grigor I conquered most of the world in my name. The life you remember was past his conquest, and soon before his fall. He was the Holy Emperor, and one of his vassal kings betrayed him in beseeching assistance with our most hated enemy. Grigor, however, failed to strike him down and died believing the Traitor King would return to our midst. He failed to heed my commands.”

She frowned and the conversation seemed to have soured the wine in her chalice. “She marched against this very city. My Holy City. And laid siege to it, seeking to destroy me. Fighting the Empire was an insurmountable challenge, but I knew, and so did Grigor that the might of our old enemy would not be contained much longer as soon as she was born into this world. She commanded six Battlehorn legions and she, with Grover and his rebels did defeat us. Grigor retreated with his army. But the freed slaves and captives joined their insurrection and battle after battle they became stronger. She chased Grigor all the way to Griffindell. The empire fell apart. Even if the city itself remained.”

“I will tell you no further. Remembrance will come. Suffice to say you are choosing a side in a war older than time itself and has been waged countless existences before. As for Luna, it is sufficient to say that she is incredibly powerful and the mind is the province of her powers. She and her sister are not to be trifled with and this is why I must remain hidden until the time is right. And so must you. Tantabus should not find you, however, without her magical token. Yet, if Luna is drawn to your mind again, she will notice something is very wrong. You must be cautious. You are hidden for now, but she will be drawn to you if you call for her.”

The griffon in front of her huffed quietly. “I cannot guarantee your safety until you reach the lands under my absolute control. Snow Mountains Hold. Fortunately, Luna is busy, and you are not the only griffon she must mind.”

“Didn’t she see my dream? I mean, if The Sisters hid everything that happened, she would recognize stuff in my dreams.” Gilda asked. Not nervous, but curious instead.

“Good question. Luna believes that the individual begins and ends with birth and death. She believes that memories that are imprinted into the soul are ‘leftovers’ of past individuals who ‘used’ that soul, for lack of a better term. She is not wrong, as they usually remain separate from the memories of the individual. They can be brought to the surface, however. And that is what I did for you. To help you remember.”

Well, supposed that to her the soul made the individual… In reality, it was a bit of a strange conversation. But she also supposed that she wasn’t in a position to argue. Maybe it was the whole point of view thing, but Gilda was convinced that girl was herself. Ugh… Never in her life she’s had to deal with that sort of stuff. Sounds like ‘pony nonsense’.

“I spent my whole life thinking that The Sisters were good… You know… Nice…” Nevermind that talk of ‘older than time’… Whatever that meant. Gilda simply stared down at her glass with the wine. “I guess you helped me so you’re nicer.”

The other laughed. “‘Nice’ is a word Celestia taught the word so that she could tell her children what she wanted them to like. I am certainly not ‘nice’. My Son has described me as brutal and cruel at times and at others he found me caring, gentle and generous. I am what griffons need me to be. Like a good mother. Luna, though, is ‘nice’ to use her invested powers to protect her little ponies’ fragile minds. And those of other creatures, as well. But you will agree with me that the psychic monsters which attack minds and cause nightmares find her a nuisance, to say the least. And I am sure Luna has an unflattering opinion of me.”

Yeah… Sides.

“But how did you get into my head?” Gilda frowned.

“Why, you opened the door for me. You rejected Luna’s protection.” The larger griffon grinned. “It was an act of your free will.”

Yes… She did. She supposed she chose a side, right back when she punched that jerk in the beak.

Actually more important, she mentioned ‘that’ city. It caused Gilda to stare up at the great griffoness. Battlehorns seemed, obviously, as combat-trained unicorns… And she supposed that she wouldn’t talk about that anymore since she expected Gilda to remember. But did she live there? And…

“You have a son?” For some reason she thought that was interesting. There was some stuff about her being the ‘mother of all griffons’. “As in, your actual son?”

“Grigory. You will be delighted to meet him. Such a far cry from that impudent creature spawned from Griffonstone’s mayor and his mate.” She smiled. “A future king in the making.”

“Hum… I guess we’ll see. What is the deal with Grunhilda?” She frowned. “You’ve been talking to her too, haven’t you?”

“Oh, the poor girl.” The great griffoness grinned devilishly. “She is a poor creature lost in a scary world who has found an anchor and an example to follow when hers were taken away. She owes her life to you, and she understands that. She also has an understanding of what would be of her had you not interfered. What will you do with her? Will you become endeared to her advances? Perhaps you will accept the servitude she offers so openly? Will you use her as a tool? Does she have skills that you are willing to make use of? Or will you grow tired of her thralldom, and she will become a burden? Still, will you be willing to carry that burden? Or will you leave her to fend for herself? I am curious to see what you will do.”

“Is this supposed to be a game?” Gilda growled again.

“Hardly. This is very much as serious business as the hostile takeover of a nation. If anything, this is an evaluation.” She didn’t like hearing that, but the bigger griffon didn’t care and actually seemed to take some delight in Gilda’s anger. Much like Gladys… One paw washes the other, indeed. “If you expect me to sponsor you, you must prove your worth. You were born with the right soul, but what you are is a product of many things. It would pain me to reject you, but if you failed to impress, I would have no use for you. In the coming conflict and beyond.”

“See it on the bright side, Child.” She gave Gilda another devilish grin. “I will not punish you for defending what is yours, and I will welcome you when you have proven your worth.”

Then She became serious, and it made Gilda certain she ought to pay attention. A lot of it. “You have chosen a side, My child. You are not the same you were in this dream. But your soul is dear to me, and I find it difficult to dissociate the soul from the individual. You have another choice to make. You will be useful to me, and I am very generous to those who serve me. You already started on the path back home. Do not falter.”

Well, she supposed she couldn’t really ask for more. Especially when if she showed up again ‘in the system’ she was liable to end up in Shatteredrock. There was also Grunhilda… She didn’t feel like leaving her to fend for herself after what happened. But something cropped up in her thoughts as the conversation seemed to be wrapping up.

“What do I do if Luna shows up in my dreams again?” It didn’t seem as though there was a lot she could do if that happened.

The great griffoness shook Her head, however. “You will be in trouble. As long as you do not draw her in, you have virtually become invisible to her. The technicalities are pointless to discuss, and my magic is complex… You will not understand them for now. Unless you seek her assistance, she will not come. Unless you do something witless, she will not come.”

Yeah… There was also the problem that Luna was likely to have Gilda under arrest, like she did to that old griffon in the hospital. She didn’t know if she could, somehow, find where she was via a dream, but she wasn’t willing to test that.

To be honest, she didn’t know if she would be okay with the things that Gabriel guy told her. It involved a cult that included whatever the heck it was that happened to her with all that talk of souls and past lives or a heart-eating… Whatever the fuck that griffon lady was.

Heh… Who was she lying to? The truth was she didn’t have a choice and the reality was there was no other viable way for her other than siding with The Lion and with the big griffon lady.

At least she had a clear path ahead of her. She even had stopped caring that she was taking a side against her old friend. She wondered if Rainbow had gotten her letter. Maybe they’ll have some opportunity to have a conversation eventually. Maybe sort that out.

“One other thing.” The larger one added. “Do not mention my name. The success of our plan depends on The Sisters not knowing I truly exist. Do not refer to me outside of Snow Mountains hold. And even in there, do not do it trivially.”

She simply nodded. Gilda understood discretion seemed to be important in that whole business. And she had, indeed, chosen a side. At least for the time being. She should focus on finding Gerdie, anyways. She could figure out the rest from there. If She wanted Gilda to prove her something, she would give her a show!

“Our time is at an end, Child.” The big one told her with a caring stroke with the back of Her paw on Gilda’s cheek. It was kind of surprising… Gilda just didn’t know what to make of that. “Remember you are expected to succeed, and I will be waiting for you. Do not disappoint.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Gilda yawned into her paw, suddenly taken by drowsiness. “Sure.”

She supposed the conversation was over, since the large griffon lady simply watched as she surrendered to an inescapable slumber.

There was a line in the Harpy's dialogue where she refered to King Grover, but the text said Grigor. I fixed that.