Maybe she was foolish. Maybe she had suddenly started to believe. Or maybe this whole adventure was some sort of bizarre dying hallucination and in reality, she was still in that dirty alley back in Griffonstone, bleeding out to death after those thugs were done abusing her.

My Child, I find your inability to simply accept your position, outstanding and unexpected as it may be, most frustrating.

Well, She couldn’t blame her!

When that whole mess started, her prospect for the following months were nothing more than baking scones and taking care of patients in Griffonstone’s public hospital. And since that wouldn’t fly in a million years because griffons more powerful than her wouldn’t allow it, her updated plans were being raped and then dying in that place.

Your mind also keeps returning to that event. I will be sure that Lady Gwendolen thoroughly examines the inner workings of your psyche.

Gee… It’s almost as though that wasn’t a traumatic event.

It certainly was, but you are My Child, and you are stronger. Additionally, your thoughts should be on the present.

Fine, fine! Fair enough!

The night was dark, all the stars and the moon hid behind the turbulent clouds that growled and rumbled in the sky. She wore her new tiara, light on her head, and her bracelets that shone with the dim public illumination. She flew slowly, hovering among the soldier griffons that had arrived from Griffindell. They kept close to her, as her very own personal honor guard. Particularly that gorgeous griffon dude.

She resisted grinning at the thought that Gia must be eating her heart out since the moment he gave Gilda those gifts. It was a shame, though. She liked Gia and wanted to be her friend. But… Oh well…

At the same time, she was sure that no one, even with the crazy one back in the hospital, had ever been jealous of her. It gave her a very naughty, but fuzzy feeling.

Grunhilda was there too, and Gilda worried a bit. Seeing the big and white griffon girl with that bow and one of the iron shafted arrows in her paws made her worry. Maybe she was just different, but there was something about her friend that unsettled her. But she just couldn’t put her talon on what it was! That whole ‘thrall’ thing upset her, even if it didn’t bother Grunhilda. Maybe she was afraid of something. Maybe that she would be left behind, or something. Well, she did say that she considered them as friends, so it really was okay.

Well, that probably wasn’t that bad if she wanted it, right? Like roleplaying.

Well, thinking about that wasn’t helping a whole lot and The Harpy was right… She ought to think of the present.

Beneath her and her ‘honor guard’ were the manor’s griffons-at-arms and right behind them the throng of griffons. She didn’t know much about them, but she supposed those were little more than griffons that lived in Thunderpeak. Maybe clerks and whatever professions worked the bureaucracy of the many labors that kept the city functioning. Though some probably had experience fighting in the way they knew exactly what weapons they wanted. Certainly, a lot of griffons that worked at Gilberto’s manufactory. Maybe a few employees that worked in the manor. Most of them must be Gilberto’s workers and a few independents that lived in the city.

Was she responsible for them? That was another thing that would’ve never have crossed her mind. Griffons under her responsibility… Not even when she worked at the hospital… She had a job to do, but nothing that would decide the life or death of another griffon. A father, a mother, a son or a daughter. Although, she did already feel responsible for Grunhilda.

In the short impromptu strategy meeting they held after she had donned her gifts, Gia wanted her to stay behind and not expose herself. She wondered what The Harpy thought of that, but no answer came to her at the time. She could swear she heard Ghadah, though, screaming at her from the depths of her soul, ‘Don’t you dare!’

There she was, then. At the front.

Griffons seemed to agree. Her little worker-soldiers grinned and nodded. The professional fighters approved, and so did Master Galahault, and the big northerner dude, like his caped friend.

However, she did her best not to let it evident, but she barely kept from jumping at shadows and her paws shook a little. Griffons would be fighting with guns. Not the arrows or the slings she had seen in Ghadah’s time. Guns.

Those griffons around her had armor and so did Gia’s soldiers. But she had an idea that any armor but the heaviest was effectively useless against muskets. They were somewhat mystical, but she had a good notion that magical armor was needed to ward off a musket’s ball in most cases.

Gia’s soldiers, for example, wore armor over their chests and some protection from chainmail over their stomachs. The Sky Sentries too. She didn’t know if those were ‘magical enough’ but Gilda, Grunhilda and the vast majority of the griffons that followed them were unprotected.

She didn’t think of herself as a coward, but…

Maybe she was too afraid. Or rather, insecure. She should trust what Ghadah had taught her.

The real point was that her instinct had gotten her that far. She had no idea how that worked, but she also had no idea how remembering or dreaming past lives worked either and those things just worked. They should work when it mattered.

Yet her paws didn’t stop rattling nor did the hole in her stomach fill itself. The worst was the idea that she was, at some level, responsible for whatever would happen to those griffons. Yes… They had their freedom to choose their side, but she encouraged them. She was responsible.

Thinking about that didn’t help a lot, so she shut those thoughts off. Instead, she focused on the actual plan they were supposed to follow.

They didn’t know how the local militia would respond, and only supposed that their mercenaries would either be with the mayor or at the depot with the money. They didn’t have the time to gather information without raising suspicions that probably were already high enough. Although, the dude commanding the Sky Sentries didn’t believe they would be there, and everyone agreed with him rather than Gia that wanted to send the manor’s soldiers to the depot.

Galahault said that the money would probably be in some sort of magically protected vault and that they would need the mayor to open it anyways, or risk spending days in the process.

In the end, the agreed upon plan was to take over the central square, the city hall with all the magical devices that could be used to communicate with Griffonstone and do a headcount on the local militias and mercenaries. Finally, let no one leave the town, if possible, and only then worry about the Bits and about making sure the population understood their new situation.

No one wondered if they could send a message out, somehow, about the rebellion, but Gilda had the feeling that they couldn’t… Not with the clouds up there. There was something in there that was difficult to gauge. There was a presence in them. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it gave her a creepy impression that she was being watched.

All of those thoughts kept her mind occupied and it was good until then because beyond those thoughts was an eerie atmosphere. Silent marching with the heavy combined tip-tap of griffon paws against the stony bricks of the street and the clinking of armor. The wind was violent above and the public illumination didn’t get less dim as they approached the opening to the central square.

The first thing she noticed was the burning bonfire smack dab in the middle of the plaza and that gave off bright light from a tall fire. Little smoke, though. Someone knew what they were doing.

From their approach, past the combination of homes and shops, she could see a building on the other side that matched the description she was given of the city hall.

A three-story building with a central body covered in layered white masonry and adorned with a blue shield with a cliff. It was missing the manor, but that was the hill that overlooked the city. Wings on both sides of the building, each floor with six windows on each side, all of them boarded up with narrow slits. Each of them occupied by a musket trained on the plaza, she was sure.

The flat roof had a white masonry parapet where she was sure they must have put a lot more griffons with muskets too.

The whole building was surrounded by a metal fence on a stone base and metal gates. Not to mention plenty of space to fill with griffons and more muskets. More planks closed off other accesses to the plaza, she could see.

Suddenly, the Sky Sentry commander signaled with a closed fist. They landed among the manor’s soldiers and ‘the leaders’ closed in next to Gilda.

A griffon walked into view from the corner. Old and gray on his feathers with white fur, clad in the local militia’s leather armor, complete with the city’s insignia. Yellow eyes reflecting the light from the oil street lamps, and he carried a white flag in his beak.

“Hey Gia.” He took the flag in his paw and waved it around half-heartedly, speaking in High Griffonese without a lot of effort not to mess it up. “What’s going on? That is a lot of angry griffons you have there. What are you up to, out of your nice mansion?”

Gilda remained quiet and Grunhilda closed up next to her as the other ‘leaders’ came forward after Gia. Definitively the leader, at least in the eyes of that old dude.

“We are tired, Gelen.” She spoke haughtily, stepping forward ahead of Gilda and the others. “Time to change.”

“Yeah…” He wasn’t impressed and made some gestures with the flag. “I know very well the changes you want, girl. Come on… Let’s talk. Let’s avoid unnecessary loss of life and a lengthy sentence in the Shatteredrock.”

Gia didn’t answer, so he kept speaking. “I am talking about some… Hum… I don’t know… One hundred thousand Bits?”

“I don’t know, Gelen…” She gave him a smug look with her short beak. “I mean… These griffons are rather enraged.”

“So they are, aren’t they?” He dropped the flag and turned around, walking around back to the other side of the pass into the plaza before turning back to them, making sure all could see him in the light. “Hey, Gerald. I see you left your pottery.”

Gilda didn’t look back, instead kept her eyes on the old griffon, one step ahead of the others, next to Grunhilda and the Sky Sentry commander.

That Gelen guy sat and held his paws together. “I mean… You left your wife and your kids alone to come here and take part in this idiot game that Gia calls a rebellion. We know you griffons have been meeting. We know that Master Gilberto helped you pay for that nice leg for your little kid. There is a lot that we know.”

He made a sad voice. “What is going to happen to little Gilly if you get yourself shot in this game that Gia’s thrown you into? What happens if you get sent to Shatteredrock along with Master Gilberto?”

She showed his paws in a faux gesture of understanding. “Your poor young wife, with three children… All alone. After your… Hum… Faction failed to stage a coup… Can you imagine all the pent-up anger some griffons might hold? If we lose our strong, the local militia may not be able to assist should they need.”

“We are far, far from Canterlot.” His voice turned melancholic. “Injustices often go unheard.”

“You are vile!” The words escaped Gilda’s beak, but they came from all the way deep within her chest. She didn’t even mean to speak, but… There was something profoundly messed up in the way he callously made veiled threats and she didn’t even need to know the griffon he meant for her stomach to turn.

“Now, now Miss Gilda.” He waved a finger and hearing her name hit her like a brick. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves.”

He approached her, a finger or two taller than she was. A hardened griffon with small gaps in the plumage to the left side of his head and holding a serious tightly locked beak. “Surprised I know your name? The security in Stomrend Manor isn’t as tight as it used to be. Especially when one’s thrall arrives in the city from Ponyville, refuses to elaborate, and makes her way to the manor.”

“Now, look at you.” He nodded curtly. “You made quite a name for yourself in your little escapade. But as soon as the Royal Guard figured it was you in Canterlot speaking to Master Gabriel’s daughter, all sorts of metaphorical alarms sounded. News spread like wildfire when one pisses off the Lord Protector of Canterlot. Just this morning we got the news via magical letter. Your pretty face reached every single city in the Federation, right next to the big retard on your side.”

“Aggravated assault of a minor, evasion from the community service, evasion from Griffonstone’s local militia, association with gang members in Baltimare, threats against the life of a Haybalian citizen, evasion from the Haybale local militia, association with a known airship captain of ill repute, illegal entry into the royal capital, conspiracy with an individual under investigation. And now, conspiracy and treason with the biggest criminal in the nation, Lord Gilad.” He turned to Grunhilda. “And you… Aggravated assault against an officer of the Griffonstone local militia while under the influence, evasion from detention, association with a griffon searched by the law, false identification. Not only that, but you turned Ponyville Public Hospital into a horror scene and stole expensive emergency medical supplies. To cap it all off, conspiracy and treason.”

His beak turned to an amused smile. “There is no coming back from that and you will be lucky if both of you reach Shatteredrock… Unharmed.”

She held the neck of his armor and shook it with all the wrath she conjured up in those minutes he had been speaking. “We’ll add murder of a local militia official to that list!”

But instead of getting to him, her growling words only made him laugh. “You think that you will win? Do you seriously believe that you have any chance? You are a pawn, you idiot. You are being used. Look at all this gold… Do you think that you are special? That Lady Gwendolen cares about what will happen to you?”

He spoke on, before she had time to think and slapped her paws away. “Suppose that you win. That you and your associates manage to take over the city. Do you think that you will make it to Griffindell? You will have spent your usefulness… You will die, both of you, cold and alone in that frozen hell!”

“But suppose that you and your dumb-faced friend do make it there.” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “Suppose that it is all true and whatever they promised you is true. What then? Do you think that The Lion can protect you from Celestia? Do you think that his wife has the power to shield you from her? Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Canterlot. After you two gave ponyvillians nightmare material for years?”

Well… Fuck. That was a good question. Even if he didn’t know of The Harpy… Could she protect Gilda from Celestia? Protect her and Grunhilda from the most powerful being in the world?

Not a whisper from the voice in her head.

“Celestia will hunt you down like a dog for what you two did.” He laughed. “You should be wary that at any second the Royal Guard might come out of the next corner, and that is if she doesn’t come herself.”

“You talk a lot for a corrupt meanie that helps the Chancellor hide his stolen money, did you know that?” Grunhilda whined and it took Gilda some willpower not to laugh at that.

Not only that, but that prick might even actually be right.

“My dear,” he told Grunhilda. “Even if I am arrested, and if some dutiful Royal Justiciar can prove that I have done anything illegal, I still have not outright murdered my way through a hospital. I will be removed from office and the worst I can imagine will happen to me, is that I will be honored by my fellow militias because after all that, I still fought to protect the city from the likes of you. Nobody is stupid enough to believe that The Lion would be nice to the griffons that sided against him.”

Gilda didn’t want to look back. Their supporters might start to leave at any moment. And had difficulty finding the words to describe the Lord Protector in a faithful manner as he turned around and distanced himself a few steps, only to turn back to them again.

“One hundred fifty thousand Bits, Gia. My last offer.” He frowned. “You can all go home, and we will forget that this happened. No charges of treason; no charges of conspiracy. Nothing.”

Then he glared at Gilda. “And you, and your friend… I’ll take you into custody and I’ll be sure that when the Royal Guard comes to pick you up, I’ll tell them that you are sorry. That you surrendered without a fight, and that you are sorry.”

“That will get you some points with The Mare.” He sighed, and for once convinced Gilda of his frankness. “I actually feel sorry for you, Gilda. None of this was supposed to have happened to you. It was dumb bad luck that threw you into this mess. But I promise that I am sorry. And that I will try to help you with your charges. The Chancellor is bound to listen to me, and it is going to make him look good if he grants you pardon. Then they can even protect you from Griffonstone’s mayor. Gordon isn’t particularly powerful outside his city, and The Mare is sure to see some good in you when it is all said and done.”

“Now, I’ll let you griffons think.” Then he picked a pocket watch from inside his armor. A fancy thing, made of gold and that opened with a nice click. “I’ll be back in some fifteen minutes.”

He turned one more time and walked calmly past the imaginary threshold between the street and the central square.

A serene quiet followed and with only the soft clinking of armor pieces moving as their wearers breathed and also the click-clacking of the many different weapons they carried.

Some griffons whispered amongst themselves, but Gilda didn’t pay attention.

There was one thing in her mind and that was something that griffon had said. He was sorry. She was not meant to have been thrust into all that. And that Princess Celestia would go easy on her because he would help her.

It was one of those moments when time stopped and all of one’s conscience focused on one single thing. She could see the griffon walking towards the bonfire, but everything else seemed to have ceased. Everything lost its color, even the fire in the middle of the square, but that griffon walking away.

They burned her house and stole her chance of getting back to her normal life. The only reason it happened at all was because of griffons like him. And that was why she was forced to sell those scones to survive. All of that because the Chancellor wasn’t happy with his salary as chief of state. Because some crooked judge let the mayor’s wife get away with ruining her life because she did something she ought to have done to her smarmy kid.

They cornered her in a dark alley, and she would have turned her into a statistic. One of those you read about in the newspapers, felt bad for a while and then went back with your day because you had to keep at it, or it would happen to you too.

But he was sorry. And he would talk on her behalf to Princess Celestia.

What snapped her back into reality was the green thing that was Gia walking next to her. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she didn’t want to hear it anyways. She opened her right wing and Gia let out a yelp, stopping in her tracks when her wing slapped her face.

Afterwards Gilda didn’t even notice she walked forward, but kept going, anyways, because they had murdered Grunhilda’s parents… But that griffon was sorry.

The griffon stopped by the bonfire, and he didn’t notice she approached. Beyond it was the city hall. Many griffons with muskets watched from the top of the building and others from the stone and metal fence that surrounded it. Helmeted heads peeking from behind the hastily thrown together reinforcements.

One of the griffons in the roof shouted something, but she didn’t pay attention. The Lord Protector turned around, big eyes, surprised, unexpecting.

It was written all over his smug face: Gia would take the money, the griffons following them would disperse and their leadership wouldn’t be able to do anything by themselves. Gilda and her friend would surrender and some Royal Justiciar would come and pick them up. He would retire with all the money; his share of the Chancellor’s money and he would even receive great honors for his service. Gail would see to that, and the Chancellor’s friends would make sure that whatever investigation happened bogged down and disappeared.

Gilda and Grunhilda? He didn’t really care what happened to them after they were out of his paws.

However, once his eyes fell on hers… She didn’t know what he saw, but his face changed. He took a step back but not much else because she grasped his armor in her paws and she stood, raising him up with a strength she didn’t know she had. Surprise turned to fear and then to sheer terror when he held her forelimbs and squirmed.

“Let go!” He shrieked like a panicked animal, his claws scratching at her chest when he kicked helplessly without stop. All his strength helped him none.

She saw in him the mayor’s kid. Those thugs that cornered her in the alley. An untrustworthy griffon ready to sell her back to her tormentors. She saw the Chancellor that ordered a family destroyed. The fat mayor’s wife that destroyed her life on a petty whim. The murderous pony mercenaries that didn’t care she was half-dead already. The traitor that would deliver her sisters to the vicious devils that would rape and torment them.

But! That griffon felt sorry!

She allowed herself a grin at his panicked screaming and shoved him into the burning pile of wood.

Fire enveloped him and his armor like a shroud of the burning hatred she exuded. A short scream, more of surprise than anything was followed by blood-freezing shrieks of pain and terror. Oh, it hurt, but she didn’t care. She smelled urine, feces and burnt flesh, but it wasn’t the first time. She knew how much it hurt, but the fire had lost its power over her, and his screams drowned the crackling of fire and other shocked yelps.

He thrashed helplessly in her strong paws and he screamed incoherently. She still found his eyes, though, alive and locked to hers as if through absolute dread and shock. “I don’t care if you are sorry, and The Mare can’t save you from me.”

Once again, she felt lost between dream and reality. There was distant crying, sharp bangs and panicked shrieks, but the only thing in her mind were his coarse screams, the searing heat that burned his feathers and made his skin boil at her paws, but most of all was the delighted cackling inside her head.

When she let go, she didn’t care if he was still alive or dead, but he collapsed with the pile of wood and the bonfire undid itself in pieces of burning wood.

Something snapped at the stone floor next to her while she still watched the burning griffon in the middle of the flaming logs. His feathers were gone, and the only movement was that of the contracting muscles and expanding body compartments. The flame enthralled her, and his deformed body seemed right, somehow.

Something stung her in the chest and the quiet night had turned to a cacophony of screams, bangs, and cracks. Griffons had rushed to whatever cover they could in the open plaza, and those included benches, the small walls before some of the other buildings that surrounded the open area and even their insides. Glasses shattered and windows served as cover for griffons shooting out with muskets.

The manor’s soldiers flew and took cover in the roofs of surrounding buildings, inching their way to the city hall and the Sky Sentries shot their different firearms from the corners of the same street they were in.

“Miss Gilda!” Grunhilda cried for her next to Galahault and the older griffon lady with the cape. They hid behind one of the small stone walls of what seemed to be a private home and he held her behind cover. Griffons with cloaks rushed to them from the inside with muskets and shot at the building, hiding behind the wall to reload their weapons.

Something stung her neck, her face and her left forelimb. She passed a finger over the left side of her face, and she had a cut, or something. A little blood stayed in her fingers, and she finally understood they were shooting at her. The whole roof of the city hall was lined with griffons armed with muskets, changing their spent guns for loaded ones and one of them flashed right at the same time something stung her left foreleg.

They shot at her and she barely felt it. She didn’t know how that was possible, but she also noticed several griffons in the cobblestone of the plaza. Holes in their bodies, and pools of blood in the ground. Most of them fell from above and groaned. Some cried. Most of those fell on their wings and they bent in weird ways a griffon’s wing was not supposed to.

Lord Protector Gelen was dead, but that was not enough. It pissed her off that those griffons would really shoot and kill their brothers and sisters under The Harpy for the sake of the Chancellor and his goons

She didn’t know what exactly she expected, but that made her furious. They needed to stop, and she didn’t know what happened to a griffon after they died, but she knew that the worthy ones found their way to their Mother, and if the only way to end it was killing them until they stopped, then so be it.

The others be damned, she thought when she leaped, and her powerful wings lifted her above. Bullets whizzed by and someone screamed for the others to shoot at her. Above the plaza she looked down at the roof of the city hall and more flashes directed at her shone in the dark. A lot of smoke in the air and the smell of blood already rivaled it.

But she looked up at the stormy clouds and they rumbled at her.

She reached up with scorched skin and feathers in her right foreleg and the clouds responded with a bolt of flashing light, hotter than all the fire in the world and louder than all the cannons, but she held it in her paw as she pulled it down from the clouds and down at the city hall. Several followed and the clouds bombarded the ceiling with magic at her command.

Caches of ammunition, she supposed, sparked and exploded. Pieces of masonry flew from the roof and a wide skylight exploded with melting metal into the floor below and shards in every direction.

“Seize the building!” The Sky Sentry commander’s voice echoed, and he took flight from the street they were in. “Storm the roof!”

Midflight the pointed at the gates below, staring at the manor’s soldiers in the surrounding roofs. “Get that gate open, storm the building from the ground up!

Griffons didn’t wait a second after he ordered, taking flight even under fire from the griffons inside the building and Gilda saw Grunhilda with the big northerner in armor, leaping over the short wall that gave them cover. Other griffons still shot and the building and several of the windows were open and vulnerable. Others threw grenades which exploded in fire or white powder, but even as griffons were already out of their minds scared at the lightning show, panic set in as fire and whatever that white stuff Gilda didn’t know began falling on them in the yard between the building and the fenced wall.

Then Grunhilda and that guy slammed against the gate like they were a train and the thing burst out of its hinges. Several griffons didn’t even bother with them, running away and flying out in the middle of scared screams. Many didn’t make it, either because the soldiers from the manor got to them or because they were unfortunate enough to come too close to the big northerner warrior and his wicked axe. The ones that tried to fly away were shot and joined the mass of crying griffons in the ground.

Others still didn’t manage to escape and burned in the area inside the gated yard in front of, while others writhed in the ground or tried to flee in panic covered in flames, only to crash to the ground but a few yards away.

Their griffons that followed Grunhilda and the others began the process of crashing open the main door, no doubt fortified from the inside, as the manor’s soldiers arrived. Some entered the building flying through the open windows, while others tried helping the fallen griffons in the square.

But Gilda concluded she had been watching for too long and saw that the griffons in black armor attacked the ceiling. She didn’t waste time watching what they did, and instead pirouetted in the air to dive, aiming at the open skylight.

Seconds after she reached the luxurious hall. Works of art in the walls and beautiful gray marble on the walls, but the wide red carpet burned from the globs of molten metal and griffons in black armor already fought with griffons wearing steel cuirasses too, but clear and most of them wielded halberds or swords.

Most of the fighting was comprised of armored griffon grappling against another armored griffon and swords held by the blade and shoved between joints or swords held by the blade with hilts used for violent strikes at the head. Others used hammers straight into armored body parts and the prevalent sound was screaming, crying and the clanging of metal.

She stood on her hindlegs and a griffon, one of the chancellor’s mercenaries, charged at her thrusting the piked head of his halberd. So fast she almost didn’t see it. But she reacted without thinking and spun out of its path to thrust Mythical straight at his chest.

He took an instant to realize what had happened and his eyes filled with confusion at the sword that melted past his armor and into his chest. She aimed at his right side and hopefully he wouldn’t die.

Why that was a concern she wasn’t sure, but her magical sword came clean off as she put it up and parried a downward swing from another halberd. Its head spun off out of control when the magical sword cut it clean off. Then she held Mythical one pawed and batted the butt of a second mercenary’s weapon. Finally, her free left paw held at the guy’s gorjet. He stopped dead with shocked green eyes at her.

“Stop!” She barked and shoved him back, still standing firmly on her hindlegs while he fell on his back with the dull clank of his cuirass on the fancy stone floor.

He stared at her, petrified while other two gasped at the scratch marks her talons left in the steel armor. Ghadah’s memories ‘screamed’ at her, inside her head to split his head open with Mythical before he could stand or his pals recovered from their shock.

“Shut up! I’m in charge here!” She screamed at herself and confused griffons around her.

Still, the ones that still stood let go of their weapons and laid on the floor with some yelps of ‘I yield!’ Maybe it was the blood from the gunshots or the scorched feathers and burn marks in her skin and just having seen a magical weapon piercing steel like it was made of paper… But it was good they surrendered.

The Sky Sentries took their weapons away and rallied them to sit in a corner as more of them arrived and promptly rushed out into the corridor with more sounds of fighting while their commander approached her and she settled on four legs with Mythical on her back.

“So, we’re supposed to ask them to stop fighting?” He stared at her.

“They’re griffons. Whether they like it or not, they are all Children of The Harpy.” She looked at him. “Kill them and they won’t be here to help us when we will have to fight the griffonian army, much less the ponies.”

“Fair…” He admitted with a nod.

Meanwhile his soldiers opened the locked door in the hall and others guarded the entrance to the corridor from where more sounds of fighting came and didn’t seem to lessen.

“Office is empty, lieutenant.” The armored griffon by the door declared.

Gilda turned to one of the surrendered griffons and he spoke immediately. “Mayor’s in the basement! There’s a reinforced door there and a bunch of supplies.”

“The fuck?” One of the Sky Sentries growled and opened his forelegs while sitting, showing all his indignation as he spoke in Common Equestrian. “Are you southerners that retarded? You are out here, dying for a coward that hides?”

“The mayor is not a fighter, dude.” The griffon spat back. “He’s a bureaucrat. His job is to govern not to fight.”

The northerner soldier didn’t relent. “In the north, leaders are warriors. No northerner worth his talons would let a coward rule them.”

“Well, that is because you guys are savages!” Another captured griffon felt emboldened to speak out. “We have a civilized system of professional soldiers and political leaders. Each is best in their own profession.”

“This is stupid.” The soldier that opened the doors complained. “Any idiot can rule over a bunch of idiots, but to rule a warrior you need another warrior!”

Before Gilda could walk away, wondering why she was there listening to those soldiers bickering like a bunch of teenagers when there was still a lot of fight to get done with, the Sky Sentry Commander spoke with that tone that made the subordinates shut up in the theater pieces.

“I once asked my mother who was the best Jarl or King in the world.” He had that same serious deadpan stare too. “My mother told me it was Princess Celestia. Because she’s been ruling the world for thousands of years and not once her armies fought a war without her ahead.”

Well, that stupid conversation did give Gilda something to think about. It spoke about griffons and how stupid they were that they allowed themselves to be ruled by lame politicians instead of badass warriors that put their lives on the line for their subjects and bore the responsibility of their administration. Even the northerners respected Celestia while Chancellor Gail and his cronies fucked everything up.

The thing was… Gilda didn’t think that Celestia was going to fix the issues. She didn’t understand griffons. They needed The Harpy, just as she did.

She didn’t know if the pony princesses were the enemy, though. The whole problem were griffons and their dumb asses fouling up the whole thing for themselves.

The issue, My Child, is that there is only room for one God in this world.

And Gilda had chosen her side… She frowned for a second, at nothing in particular, but then walked towards the door. “I guess not all of them will surrender… But get your griffons to capture whoever they can.”

“Yes, Lady Gilda.” He nodded and she poorly suppressed a smile. Damn… ‘Lady Gilda’ really did sound awesome. Nonetheless, he turned to his soldiers. “Secure this entrance. Try to capture anyone that tries to leave but if you can’t, end them. No one must escape if we can help it.”

They grunted their agreement and he followed Gilda. The sounds of fighting ended in that floor, but muskets still rang, and metal still clanked in the floors below. The griffon followed her, and she knew because his armor made his presence entirely clear.

It was a narrow corridor with fancy wood covering over the walls, golden candelabra and fancy rugs ruined by dirty paws to go along with pretty but broken furniture. Oh well. Protecting the furniture wasn’t exactly a priority.

She found the stairwell in the middle of the corridor, and it sat at the back of the main section of the building. Varnished wood, red carpet held to the steps by bronze rods. That floor seemed to be under control already, with the sounds of fighting coming from the one below. Just a bunch of offices and a kitchen.

“Dude, take care of your guys and the ones from the manor. I’m gonna watch out for the others.” She told him, not looking back.

“Understood, Lady Gilda.” He replied with military brevity, and she grinned to herself a little at how she probably would never tire of hearing ‘Lady Gilda’.

But that wasn’t the time. The wrong griffons were dying and so she jumped down the flight of stairs and flapped her wings to stop her momentum, spring-jumped on the intermediate landing to turn around and then hopped down the other flight to another corridor much like the previous one. The heavily armored griffon followed her, albeit slower.

Right upon touching the landing she found two scared griffons holding muskets. Not the traditional northerner musket that had a cylinder, like a revolver. They shot at her, and she threw herself down to the floor. One missed, the bullet whizzing past her head and the second hit her on her right flank.

“Ow! Motherfucker!” She yelped. It stung more than a needle or something… She didn’t really have a lot of references to compare. One of them froze and the other reacted, lunging at her with a flap of his wings. He screamed, holding his musket, and pointing the long clear bayonet at her.

In the time it took him to do that she stood on her hindlegs and drew Mythical from her back. She sidestepped his lounge and turned, bringing her magical sword on his back. He wore nothing but a cotton coat and the sword split open his back. He screamed and fell to the floor like a groaning rag doll.

The Sky Sentry commander arrived right at that time and the other griffon, sat against the corner in the wall wailed. “Please! I don’t want to die!”

From that far she could already see the tears. She didn’t mean to kill him anyway, since he just gave up, but it took some self-control to approach a griffon that had just shot at her. She touched him, despite him reeling and shrieking.

A young little dude, not a year older than Grunhilda, cyan and gray on his head and chest. Horrified green eyes. His body shook like a juvenile sprout in a storm.

“It’s cool…” She told him. “You’re not gonna die. Alright?” Bizarre… She went from killing a guy to comforting another that he wasn’t going to die.

“I don’t even like the Chancellor! Or the mayor!” He cried desperately. “They said they were going to burn our houses!”

“Chill… It’s alright.” She spoke again in her most soothing voice while the commander went into a room to her right. “Just leave that gun and stay here.”

In another bizarre moment she hoped to whatever she hadn’t just killed his father in front of him, but there was fighting in the room to the left. A small office with an upturned desk and a broken chair. The windows were open with the broken wood they had used to close it. A nice beige carpet was stained in blood and covered in unmoving griffon bodies of many colors.

One of the mercenaries sat in a corner, breathing wildly, on a pool of his own blood, back against the wall and his paws drenched in red, holding a wound on his neck. Two griffons grappled on the floor over a bayoneted northerner musket. A strong, yellow, field working looking male and a smaller-framed mercenary holding the other against the wall between an open and a boarded-up window. The white masonry wall was smeared with red.

The mercenary gained the upper hand, and it happened too fast. Gilda didn’t have time to think. She reacted and drove her sword from one side of his chest to the other as the magic in her sword melted through steel. Her victim didn’t even seem to have understood what happened and fell limp to the floor while she pulled out the sword.

The other griffon sat and drew a long breath. “Thank you!”

Soon after he began the process of reloading his weapon, biting off the paper cartridge and pouring the powder into one of the chambers and pushing the paper and the bullet with it into the opening. Other griffons came inside. Griffons on her side.

She pointed at the door. “There’s fighting all over! We gotta clean this place as soon as we can and avoid losing too many!”

The first one, a young female, gray and white nodded at her and ran out of the room followed by others.

The sounds of fighting reminded her that she was wasting her time and that the wrong griffons were still dying. She gasped and rushed out of the room. There was fighting in the next two rooms, similar offices, but the sky sentries seemed to have everything under control.

She galloped past to the next room and there were three of the Chancellor’s mercenaries fighting in a cramped close-quarters fight against three of the black armored soldiers that came from Griffindell.

In the short time she watched, one of the Griffindellians shot one of the mercenaries through his armor. Then he pulled the… Knob? The thing in his gun and shot another. They seemed to have things under control too, so she jump-ran to the next room on the floor.

A local militia for Thunderpeak stood on his hindlegs and just finished reloading his musket, barely done punching the bullet down with the gun’s rod thingy. In a panic he pointed the gun at her while she stood too and drew Mythical. He shot at her and, in an unthinking reaction, she caught the iron ball in the blade. It exploded harmlessly in shrapnel away from her.

Just the fact that she could see that so clearly surprised her and she didn’t react as fast as she should have. Just how inexperienced she really was almost scared her.

The other reacted even slower and when he cried and brought his bayonet to bear, Mythical cut his weapon in two. The bayoneted point fell to the ground, and she brought the weapon back to kill him.

But she stopped. Tan, large-framed body and a tan head, he covered his face at the imminence of her cutting him open with a sword. He fell back, as griffons usually did when standing on their hindlegs and sat against the wall before he noticed she hadn’t slashed at him and peered in between his forelegs.

Then his eyes bulged, and he gasped. “The nurse from Griffonstone! What? What the fuck?!”

It seemed hypocritical… But it was her call to make anyways. “I’m not killing you, dude…”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I… I… What is going on?”

“I don’t want to kill you.” She said, softer than she had meant. The truth was that she didn’t know what was going on! She just didn’t want to kill him. “Just… Chill… Alright?”

He nodded quietly and the noises of the fight returned to her. She stared at him, awkwardly for a second or two, and for yet another bizarre second, she feared The Harpy might be angry at her. But that second passed, and Her voice didn’t sound in her head. Only musket fire and the clinking and clanking of the fight that came from outside through the window.

There was an ugly brawl outside. She felt as though she should help, but she was already fighting inside, and she was wasting time again.

With Mythical back in her resting place, she rushed back to the corridor in time to see four of the black armored sky sentries rushing past the door and down the stairs. She followed then, and in all honesty, she felt tired. Emotionally and physically.

But she couldn’t just stop.

Down the stairs the soldiers took a right in the great hall that was the entrance and there were so many dead and dying griffons in there, piled on top of each other with groans and literal weeping, the sight almost gave her pause. But she forced herself onward. There was heavy fighting in an auditorium to the right, but she took to the left since those soldiers took the right.

Back in a corridor, there were bodies and blood splatters on the nice wood finished walls. Broken furniture and one of the golden candelabra were on the ground and had been trampled. Someone screamed and she arrived at the first door to see an utterly destroyed meeting room. Right in time to see a pair of the mercenaries, one of them cleaving into the neck and shoulder of a sky sentry with the axe of his halberd and spilling forth a fountain of blood. A pair of northerners laid on the floor, already lifeless.

She immediately stood and drew Mythical with a scream. One of them had his weapon stuck to the body of the black-clad griffon, but the other charged at her with the spiked point aimed at her. She batted it away with her sword and he tried to throw his body at her, but she expected that. Gilda used his momentum to throw him at the white masonry wall next to the door and the impact downed a few paintings that hung from the wall. He had his back to her and she thrust her weapon, point first, past his armor and pulled her free, turning to meet the other she was sure was ready to attack her by then.

She was too slow.

He laughed and batted her head with the weapon’s butt. The world spun and her vision darkened for an instant until she found herself on her side, down on the floor. Still holding Mythical flat on her body, though.

The griffon, bulky and heavy. A little fat, yellow on his head, looked fatter than he was because of the armor, and he laughed at her.

“You look tired. That is a big sword for a cute girlie!” he mocked her, bringing his weapon up for an utterly announced downward swing.

In the instant that passed, she supposed that while she had Ghadah’s memories, she didn’t have her years of intense physical training and acquired prowess. She ought to work on that…

She was indeed tired, but not so much that she couldn’t roll away when his clumsy attack came and jumped up to stand with Mythical at the ready. When he tried another clumsy upward swing, her sword came down and cut his halberd clean in half.

He staggered backwards with a scream, losing his balance at the sudden change in his weapon’s weight, but she caught him with her left paw. She didn’t like his jesting at all. It reminded her of some nasty griffons from the past. Her talons pierced his skin above the gorjet of his armor, but he surprised her with the shaft of his weapon to hit her on her side. She screamed and let go, angry at herself for not anticipating that.

He took a desperate step to swing what remained of his weapon down at her. She was ready and cut his forward hindleg clean. In shock and with his balance completely lost, he fell to the ground letting blood everywhere and she ended his pain driving her sword through his armor and his chest.

She really was tired. Against better judgement, she let her sword stuck upward on his chest and collapsed on her back. Less than a second later some griffon with the leather armor of the militia showed up in the door. Sitting on his haunches and drawing his musket at her, yelling at her.

“Get your paws up or I’ll shoot!” He screamed more like he was scared rather than capturing a prisoner.

“Fuck’s sake, dude…” She groaned in a combination of annoyance and tiredness. “You guys lost. Drop that thing and you won’t get shot. I’m done killing griffons today. I fucking hate it.”

Instead, he shot at her, and Gilda folded up at the sharp stinging in her stomach with a yelp. A stray thought reminded her that gunshots were fatal, despite whatever the heck kept her from getting too injured. Still, those damn things still hurt way too much for comfort.

Then he charged at her with a wing-powered pounce and his bayonet forward.

Once again, she reacted. Out of sheer anger.

She jumped to the side and he stuck his bayonet to the wooden floor beneath the carpet and tried to pull it out mid panic. She slapped his face and he let go with a yelp. Three lines of red across his white face, but beyond that she pushed him to the ground, face first and held him to the carpet, holding him behind his head, closing her talons on his skin.

Before she knew, her talons let a magical discharge as though she had just shot out a magical bolt of lightning on him. With that, he just stayed there, limp on the floor and she blinked at her own talons.

“Huh… Alright…” She sat, half confused, half amused and amazed.

She grabbed her weapon and hurried to the other side of the building. To the room across the corridor that had windows to the backyard. The fight still went on and five of ‘her’ griffons shot out the three windows using the walls for cover.

One of them noticed her coming inside and gasped. She hurried to the windows and could see it still was a mess of a fight outside with pockets of fighting, but she could clearly see that while the actual professional fighters on their side dealt with it reasonably well, ‘her guys’ lost way too much to the local militia griffons.

She just couldn’t sit her ass in there and let those griffons kill each other.

She hopped out the nearest window and made her way to the nearest group of fighting griffons. Bayonet to bayonet, grappling for the muskets and using them as blunt weapons or simply a fighting staff to shove at each other’s face, it was a mess everywhere, but she arrived just in time to cut a musket in half before a local militia skewered some kid. She then slashed through the armor, into his shoulder, and he dropped with a pained scream.

There wasn’t much time to think, and she almost tripped over a dead griffoness on the ground with a nasty hole on her chest.

With her hindlegs firmly on the trampled grass, and in the middle of countless asymmetrical fights in the middle of that mess, she caught a spear thrusted at her by some random griffon with no armor. The spear stood no chance against Mythical and neither did his chest, as she slashed at him with the point.

Immediately after, she brought down her weapon on a griffon that had his back to her but clubbed at one of hers with his musket. The magical sword cut one of his wings off and slashed through his muscles and bone before he collapsed without even knowing what happened.

Not time to think, she cut open another griffon that attacked one of hers with the spike in his war hammer. It pierced through the plated armor in his shoulder. While the attacker fell to the muddy grass, she decided that the griffon in armor wasn’t too hurt and minded a griffon that charged at her with a spear.

Before she even defended herself, a griffon by her side shot him with his revolver musket and on the other side, the same guy with the plated armor cracked a skull that belonged to a griffon in the militia’s armor.

She didn’t think much of it. Instead jumped with a mighty flap and fell on one of the chancellor’s mercenaries that raised his heavy polearm to defend himself. It proved no match for Mythical and it was cut clean in half and so was his steel cuirass, the muscle and bones in his chest.

She held the weapon and raised it again with a scream, ready to charge at the next unfortunate soul in front of her and it was a griffon in the militia’s armor. He jumped back and fell on his haunches and much to her surprise, griffons on her sides charged with a mighty battlecry.

Behind some hundred griffons were the solid walls of the houses behind the city hall and the only way out was up and those that tried were shot.

It took seconds before a griffon, dark gray under his leather armor and white on his head, with scared blue eyes threw his musket to the mess of blood, trampled grass and mud. “Enough! We yield!”

Cries of surrender ended the fighting to her sides and only then she realized that griffons had rallied behind her and to her sides. Not only that, but they stopped when she did. Griffons still busy fighting looked her way when the cries of surrender started.

It caught her by surprise. But the guy that threw his weapon laid on the floor on top of his legs. “With Lord Protector Gelen dead, I suppose I’m in charge. Second Lieutenant Godwin. We were just doing our job, alright? This is pointless.”

Others followed his gesture and Gilda had sat on her haunches with her sword in front of her, point down. What in the freaking hell was she supposed to do?! Wasn’t that big northerner dude commanding them, or something? Or Master Galahault?

Of course, both of them just showed up from the ranks of those griffons she didn’t even realize rallied to her in the middle of the fight. They didn’t answer, just stared at her, waiting for her to say something.

“Uh... Just… Sure. Drop your weapons.” She told Godwin and turned to the big northerner. “Get our guys to remember these dudes are also Children of The Harpy.”

He frowned a little, not out of contempt. He clearly agreed.

“Where the heck is Grunhilda?” She asked him after that. “Last I saw, she was with you.”

Galahault, on the other side, answered. “I left her in the auditorium. She’s taking care of some prisoners with our fighters from Griffindell. She’s fine.”

Gilda nodded, but wanted to see her, just to be sure. The northerner guy seemed to read her mind and started picking griffons from their side to mind the prisoners.

That seemed taken care of, so she started on her way back to the building itself and Galahault followed. As they walked in the middle of all those griffons, tired and dirty, some injured; victorious cheers and whoops arose into continuous cheering.

She meant to talk to Galahault, but just as soon the first wave of cheers erupted, the main door into the building exploded out of its hinges for Grunhilda to hop outside and quickly scan the area before she found her.

“Miss Gilda!” Tired and hurting all over, Gilda smiled and raised a paw to greet her friend who tackled to the ground with a… Gilda would have called it a bear hug, but she could swear that Grunhilda was stronger still.

“Goodness, you’re gonna kill her, kitty!” Galahault laughed as he freed Gilda and the other looked her over several times.

Despite her sudden happiness, as she stood again, Gilda noticed the bloody patches in her friend’s fluffy chest. “Grunhilda, you’re hurt!”

“Actually, that is your blood…” Galahault pointed to her own chest covered in caked blood and the streaks of it in her forelimbs, not to mention the scorch marks. Not that he was much better, with several links of his mail armor missing, and some gashes on himself. Damn bayonets, she supposed.

They entered the building, to the corridor on the ground floor to see griffon prisoners escorted out and the injured carried by their friends. “Let’s get you to the doctor. The fighting is done. Time to mind the dead and care for the wounded. You included.”

“You didn’t die, Master Galahault.” Grunhilda mentioned as they walked and the blue-yellow griffon hummed to himself.

They walked out of the building to the front yard, and someone had put some planks so that they could walk above the copious amounts of water they threw at the white powder outside. Gilda hoped they already cleared the bodies or at least carried those that were still alive to help them.

“Huh… I was happy to die getting this battle won. I suppose that I should be happy that I managed to see the city serving its rightful liege.” Galahault didn’t complain, but he did frown. “Gonna have to marry Gia’s mother now…”

The sound of unfurling flags and more cheering distracted them. Atop the building the older griffon lady with the cape and a pair of Griffindell’s sky sentries rolled down a long banner from the center of the building. A blue field and a white rampant griffon with stretched wings and a crown, holding an axe.

Next Chapter: Hook, Line, and Sinker Estimated time remaining: 23 Hours, 53 Minutes