A quick walk took Gilda, her loremaster ‘friend’, their thralls, and the old local Loremaster to the entrance gate in the outer part of the city. That was a lot of griffons that had just come in, and more were still entering through the East Gate.

She had no idea how large their forces were, but it seemed that the entirety of the city’s guard was there talking to the new arrivals and that included the griffons from the Sky Sentry. She knew because they didn’t wear the leather armor, but their full black plates. And she recognized one of them from their meeting in the wild.

Gelinda’s apprentice, the younger griffon lady with the characteristic blue silk cape was already hard at work supervising the whole thing and Gelinda recruited Gia’s help to identify those elusive purer griffons in the middle of the mass. She didn’t like it but didn’t say no to the older Loremaster.

The newcomers were either too tired to bother or too scared to complain. Even as the fluffy and black, fire drooling simargl hounds started pointing at the forbidden stuff in what little they had brought with them.

The truth was that there wasn’t anything for Gilda to do there. Gia was busy helping the local Loremasters and Gilda’s griffons were all inside the inn, wisely out of minds and out of the way. That was probably the clever thing to do, but she decided to stay. Gilda had the impression that something could go bad in a hurry. She didn’t know what, or why she should care about it, but she convinced herself that she should be there.

Maybe it was that ‘sense of duty to her fellow griffons’, or whatever Her Mother had called it. She just hoped that staying there she could avoid someone getting shot over the candy their kids brought. Although that was probably unlikely as that group was from Thunderpeak and probably left not long after she had left herself.

That was the problem. That was why she was on edge. Gilda kept paying attention and a second look told her that they really didn’t look very well. There was coughing and some cubs cried among the refugees. The thought that they might already be griffons from Griffonstone chilled her spine and put a grimace in her beak. There were carts and old griffons. Some of them didn’t look like they could make the trip north. Had they traveled all night? All of them?

They would not be prepared for whatever the North would throw at them. Even with all that talk about how the process was meant to acclimatize them to their new home, it seemed daunting. She worried for them.

Fortunately, the innkeeper and her kids brought some food and drinks to those griffons. Mostly sausages, hot mead and teas as the cold had descended upon the town like the Windigos just wanted to show how much they hated everything.

Of course, that was her best guess based on obscure memories from the past and her gut feeling. Maybe the activation of that ominous sounding Red Dawn implied griffons from Thunderpeak should beat it to the north too. Although, the city was going to be attacked and she was pretty sure The Harpy would be cross at griffons fleeing instead of defending it.

Thunderpeak was an important city, if for nothing else, for the teleporter. It was one of those things that even the idiots that had no idea about warfare knew was important.

Grunhilda sat by her side, paying attention to the mess of griffons working or waiting for their turn. She kept right next to Gilda, close enough to touch. As though she needed physical contact to reassure her. But she didn’t shake or anything. She just stayed with Gilda and, somehow, radiated a nervous energy.

Or maybe it was Gilda that was nervous. She would go with the former because it seemed cooler that she was there for her friend.

“You, okay?” Gilda asked her without looking and put a wing behind her friend’s back. Still keeping her eyes in the activity, but her attention was on her friend.

“Yes…” Grunhilda spoke softly. “I’m just a little worried. It seems something bad is happening in Griffonstone. I didn’t really like it there, but I know that not all griffons are bad. Even the ones that don’t like the northerners. Like the griffons in the office. They were always nice to me.”

Gilda nodded softly and her thoughts drifted to Greta and Gary. So many nice griffons, despite it all, back in Griffonstone. Goldina and the crazy nurse, for example. That guy that was always next to her. The cute mailgriffoness that often delivered her letters like it was the happiest moment of her day. The two hookers Gilda had known in her brush with the legal system probably were safe if Gladys kept her word of looking out for them.

Suddenly angry barking and panicking griffon cries yanked Gilda out of her thoughts. She didn’t even think and reacted, rushing to where the sounds of the mess came from. Grunhilda followed her and soon there were simargls running towards the barking and screeching like they were drawn to it. Their leashes flayed in their mad dash and angry handlers, left behind, yelled at them.

Gilda soon found the source of the commotion. Other handlers were angry that their dogs were freaking out, and griffons circled around like they wanted nothing to do with it. But there was a cart in the middle of all that chaos, still attached to a panicking black wooly ox. The cart itself, loaded with cargo, looked ready to break apart, with the creaking sounds of cracking wood. The dogs jumped around the cart and the ox, barking like crazy at a thestral pony at the top, not at whatever was under the cowhide protection. The pony didn’t help either, hissing and screeching at them like it was the queen of the hill.

Curiously, none of the winged dogs actually used their wings to reach the thestral. They just jumped and barked insistently. Almost like they feared her. Meanwhile a griffon lady tried to calm the ox before it bolted and caused some real damage. The dog handlers tried to control their simargls with little effect, and to make things worse, the poor girl was on the brink of panic too.

The handlers pulled the dogs by their leashes and yelled commands to them, but they wouldn’t relent even when they whipped the dogs with their leashes. The pony kept screeching and hoofing at the mound of stuff she was on too. Her coat was a washed-out shade of blue with a beautiful sapphire mane she tied in a ponytail. She even flapped her leathery dark-blue wings and her cyan slitted eyes just seemed fiercer than the dogs and the chaos they caused.

“What the actual… Who…” Gilda’s face contorted into a confused frown with Gia coming to a stop next to her.

“Great, another damn pony.” The green one groaned like it was just a nuisance.

“Get these dogs under control, for feather’s sake!” Gosalynn cried, also landing next to Gilda, but to no avail.

The simargls were quite a bit larger than the ones Gilda recalled from the times of the Empire, but just as obstinate and even stronger. No matter what their handlers did, they kept jumping and barking like they wanted to rip the thestral apart.

It was only when Gelinda also landed next to Gilda the handlers managed to put some order in the mess and pulled the dogs away long enough that they calmed and were taken from there. The Loremaster took advantage of the new peace and pointed at the ground. “Get down, pony.”

“Word!” The pony hopped to the cobblestone street with a friendly smile despite her frown. She spoke in Common Equestrian with a very cheery voice and a lisp that was either charmingly annoying or aggravatingly cute. “Those things are dangerous!”

“What are you doing here?” Gelinda spoke in a heavily accented Common Equestrian and gave the pony a harsh stare from her higher stature. “Your kind is not welcome in these parts. The only ones we suffer are those we have no choice but to let through.”

The pony put up a hoof for Gelinda to shake, or bump, and smiled even more. The large cyan bow that held her mane bopped a few times with all the bouncing. “I’m Moonbow!”

She also showed the saddlebags that covered her thighs. Velvety blue and with a rainbow in front of a full moon.

Gellinda was quickly losing her patience and her tone indicated it clearly. “I didn’t ask your name, I told you are not welcome here. Go away.”

Gia kept her impatient scowl. “We’re not taking you North.”

“Aw! But you should!” The happy pony didn’t let the stares she received discourage her. “We’re very similar. We thestrals and you northerner griffons.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure you meant this as something good,” Gilda told her, closing the distance, and getting in Gelinda’s way before she slashed the pony’s throat, or something. “But what you just said sounded very offensive to them.”

Gilda also spoke in the Common Equestrian, but her pronunciation wasn’t so loaded with the North’s whistle-y accent. She supposed that it would be easier for the pony to understand.

“Well, I am sorry.” Moonbow hoofed at her chin and whined. “But it is true. You guys live isolated from the other griffons and my kind has sort of lived isolated too. Especially after all the ponies started hating us because of Nightmare Moon. Only recently we started to come out in the day. So, yeah… We kinda should understand and support each other. Right?”

She concluded with a very wide and very ‘pony’ smile adorned with her fangs.

“Ponies don’t know hatred.” Gelinda told the thestral in the northerner language before she turned and walked away. “Leave. We have no use for you, and you are a bother that doesn’t even talk our language. Your very presence is an offense to everything we believe.”

The pony, once again, didn’t let that dampen her mood and showed a dirty smile with her little fangs showing before speaking in perfect High Griffonese. “Well, you should know that as Chancellor in the Canterlot College of History, I am well studied in several aspects of that discipline. Not to mention that I am fluent in Modern Griffonese, High Griffonese, Pegasian, Cloud Pegasian, Unicornish, Ancient Unicornish, Yakayak, Buffalo smoke signals and even the Changeling Shik-ti. Including dialects from the long dead Changeling Broods. I am very useful!”

First, Gilda had to admit that the expression on Gelinda’s face was worth all the money she had left in the bank back in Thunderpeak. Also, that Gelinda was damn scary when she was angry. “What is it that you want, batpony?”

Gilda just got out of the way before Gelinda’s anger spilled on her. The thestral was on her own.

However, the Loremaster controlled herself, exhaling softly, returning to her superior poise. “We are dealing with an emergency. Please, leave us.”

“I know!” Moonbow nodded urgently. “That is why I am here! Something huge is happening and I came after my colleague Lost Temple. He doesn’t know it and doesn’t know me, but I’m the one who organized his expedition with Daring Do and I chose him because of his interest in Griffon History. He was perfect. But then everything went awry and… Well, here we are. I want to help! My position alone will be valuable! And… Come on! I can smell it! It’s History in the making!”

“No.” Gia cried. “We’re not taking yet another pony across the Whitescape to Griffindell! Especially not with hundreds of clueless griffons in tow!”

“Yes, we are!” Gilda grinned heartly at the pony and offered her a fist to bump. She did the latter with a grin that matched Gilda’s. “Welcome to the caravan, Miss Moonbow.”

Gia’s body shook and her feathers ruffled like she was having a seizure or something. “You don’t understand! Madam Gelinda, tell her!”

Gilda looked at the older Loremaster, but instead of siding with Gia, she just shrugged and showed a disinterested stare. “If that is what Lady Gilda wants. I’m sure that this one will be as useful to Lady Gwendolen as the unicorn. If for no other reason, her position.”

She walked and turned to face both Gilda and Gia. “The path forward is not always easy, young queen. But it is what Our Mother requires of us.”

“Yeah…” Gia deadpanned. “And that is why you’re coming with, right?”

“Of course not!” Gelinda gasped comically loud. “My duty lies within the city’s walls. I am important to the community!”

“Stop whining.” Gosalynn’s acute voice chastised Gia as she approached the group in the middle of the still gathered curious griffons. “The caravan will be much smaller and faster on the final hop across the Whitescape to Griffindell. And I’ll be going with you all the way to Frozenlake with the city’s entire Sky Sentry detachment.”

“Can we just get back to work?” Gosalynn whined, flaring her wings, and pulling back her head dramatically. “I’m getting hungry! You won’t like me when I’m hungry!”

Instead, Gia groaned to the clouded and violent sky while turning to Gilda. She even held Gilda’s shoulders with her wings. “Please, let’s leave the ponies. I’m not above doing sexual favors if that makes you change your mind… I rather do anything other than embarking on this suicide trip.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are over dramatic?” Gilda glared at her. “We’re going, and you’re going with us. If you want to get us the best chances we can get, why won’t you go see Mister Gillian and help him plan for the trip?”

But Gilda just couldn’t let slip the chance to poke at her. “I’ll tell The Harpy you were a good girl, despite trying to steal all the money from Thunderpeak.”

“Alright. Fine!” Gia glared back at Gilda, with a furious pout and fuming. “Just so that you know, I hate you. I hate your guts. And while I die with some frostmane chewing on my cute face, know that I’ll be yelling that it was all your fault!”

With that she harrumphed and stormed her way back to the inn, followed by Geary. But before following her, he stopped and grinned at Gilda. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll get her to help Mister Gillian.”

With the pair gone, Gelinda approached Gilda again. “As amusing as that was, she is not entirely incorrect. You should prepare yourself. Start by getting this batpony out of the streets. Keep her close to the unicorn and keep an eye on them.”

She concluded with a low voice and squinted at the pony who was talking to her apprentice and one of the guards some steps away. “The unicorn feels harmless, but this thestral makes me uneasy. Together, they’ll be trouble.”

“Will do.” Gilda nodded discreetly, before turning her gaze to the pony.

Gelinda and Gosalynn went their ways to deal with the newcomers and the bureaucratic mess that must have been all those griffons arriving out of the blue. They all had names and places of origin, not to mention they needed to go somewhere, after all. Gilda took the opportunity to push Grunhilda’s shoulder and get her attention from the guards bringing the simargls back.

“Hey, get the batpony inside and stay with her.” She told the white griffoness and acknowledged the obedient nod her thrall gave her. “I’ll be here checking out these new griffons for a while. If anything seems off, come find me.”

“Okay.” Grunhilda concluded with a too serious frown that Gilda was used to seeing in cubs playing some detective game. But before she could say or do anything Grunhilda was already talking to Moonbow. She just hoped that nothing ‘seems off’ until they’re ready to depart. Hopefully in the morning. And without additional ponies.

Fortunately, nothing cropped up in that mess of griffons other than a few candies being thrown in the stream out of town. Things proceeded smoothly as the morning went on and Grunhilda remained inside the inn with the ponies. Gia was too busy to complain, and the rest of Gilda’s associates remained out of the way.

Gilda kept next to Gosalynn while her guards and the Sky Sentries reorganized the whole mess of griffons. She seemed busy and maybe Gilda could help in some way.

“Like we needed another pony in here.” Gosalynn’s childish voice made her comment even better and Gilda chuckled at her pain.

“I feel you.” She still agreed, though. “Don’t worry, I’ll take her out of your feathers soon enough.”

“Thank you.” Gosalynn smiled at her. “This town is already a pawful.”

Gilda could have been seeing things. But when Gosalynn turned away to talk to a griffon that had called her, Gilda caught something with the corner of her eyes. It looked like someone entering the East Gate under a deep purple cloak. But when Gilda looked again, there was nothing more than griffons busying themselves and complaining teens. More and more griffons walking into town.

She had seen something. She was sure of it. She frowned and grimaced angrily, raising her paw to walk there and investigate, but Gosalynn poked at her side with her tail. “Hey, Gilda. “You’ll want to hear this.”

It nagged at Gilda, but she turned to Gosalynn and the kid she was talking to. He was scrawny, light tan with a darker head and yellow eyes, wearing a brown scarf and an even darker beret hat. A black leather satchel was across his chest, and when Gilda turned to them, he started again.

“So, I was saying I came from Griffonstone. Madam Gladys ordered me to come here and talk to you guys.” He showed his paw and started making gestures. “Things are a mess and not everyone managed to get out yet. We got the most important ones through though, and they are waiting in Thunderpeak for a caravan to bring them along. We’re hurrying it up, but there are too many griffons and Madam Gaetana insisted that records be thorough.”

Gilda burst out before Gosalynn could ask. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Yeah. The Griffonstone Local Militia got pissed we were trying to get our griffons out and the GSA detachment at Fort King Grover deployed to the city. They figured it out, somehow and started cracking down on the groups leaving home to the teleporter.” He sat and closed his fists. Started shaking them. “I hear the bastards shot at unarmed families!”

Yeah. That didn’t surprise Gilda and she frowned with inner anger. It really seemed the GSA’s rock bottom had a cellar.

“There was some shooting at the teleporter, but our guys managed to get most of those that arrived through.” He grimaced. “I don’t know what is going on right now, though. I came in the first group. I do know that Lady Gwineth took the northerner agents and went to the hospital. They turned King Grover’s Plaza to a battlefield, but they got Master Gabriel out alright. They’re in Thunderpeak and they’re preparing a faster transport here ‘cause Master Gabriel can’t walk, and there’s some sick old general. We also confirmed that there is a full GSA brigade moving in on Thunderpeak, and there’s some crazy talk that Celestia is in Griffonstone, doing Mother knows what. Overall, the situation is largely unknown for the moment.”

“Huh.” Gosalynn frowned. “I’ll ask Gelinda’s mate to prepare to meet them. Sounds like we could use a doctor. He’s probably around here somewhere already.”

Wait, wait! Gilda was glad they got Master Gabriel out. He was directly responsible for all the good things that happened to her after their meeting, after all. But what about Gilda’s friends? What if something happened to them?

Maybe she should pull on a few of the strings she’s been acquiring.

She smiled at the griffon kid. “Hey, can I ask you for a favor?”

The kid gasped and smiled so broadly she had a favor to ask him it convinced Gilda she should try it more often. “Anything you ask, Swordmaiden!”

She smiled at him. “I have some friends from Griffonstone and I need to know if they made it to Thunderpeak. And, if not, what is their situation back there.”

He grabbed a small notebook from his satchel and a pencil. “Yes! What are their names? Or descriptions?”

Gilda smiled again. “Gertrude and Grizelda. They were arrested with me one night and they were taken in by Madam Gladys for protection. Next are Greta and Gary. They’re nothing special, just my friends. There is also the nurse team in the Griffonstone Hospital. Especially one called Goldina.”

He finished taking his notes with a sharp point. “I know Grizelda and Gertrude! They were with the charity front. Yeah. They’re already at Thunderpeak. Do you want me to tell the brass where they should end once they’re here?”

“Yeah.” Gilda frowned. “Get them to Griffindell. I’ll be waiting for them.”

She waited until he was done writing again and looked at her. “Alright. I’m sorry about Greta and Gary, though… I don’t know them and I don’t know if they’re safe. Can I get a description? I’ll ask around in Thunderpeak and if they’re not there, I’ll get them moved ASAP.”

“Ah…” He deflated a little. “About the griffons from the hospital… Well, I doubt they’ll be coming. There’re a lot of injured griffons that need help back in Griffonstone and I suppose that healthcare workers are all working around the clock.”

“It’s cool.” She waved a paw at him. “Just do what you can.”

“Will do, ma’am!” He turned around to leave after a short description of her friends, but Gilda held his tail.

“Dude, are you just gonna fly back to Thunderpeak?” She gasped. “Just like that?”

“I’m a certified flyer with Lord Gilad’s army, ma’am!” He proudly showed her a brooch stuck to the inside of his satchel. It was a round golden button showing a rolled-up paper with wings. “I’m not even tired and I get free meals and lodging wherever I go! It’s a great way to know places and griffons too!”

Having said that, he just rushed out towards the gate, leaving Gilda and Gosalynn.

“Huh. Cool.” Gilda smiled. Seemed like a useful guy.

“Well, back to work…” Gosalynn showed an awkward smile and a frustrated frown. “These griffons won’t organize themselves.”

Maybe it was out of sympathy, maybe she could even help somehow. But Gilda stayed with the captain and watched as the mess of griffons slowly organized itself under the curation from the griffons of the city.

The local law enforcement basically created a line that separated two flavors of barely contained chaos. On one side stood the angry and frustrated griffons that still needed to be interviewed and cargo that needed to be inspected. On the other, the relieved griffons that had been cleared and were directed to the waiting area next to the North Gate. The ones that needed further inspecting or just needed clarification were taken away to the side, to the parking area of the inn.

It intimidated the crap out of the refugees, even if the locals were friendly. Basically, what had happened to Gilda and her caravan once they had arrived but scaled up to meet a metaphorical flood of griffons.

And that was where Gilda planted her useless ass next to Gosalynn, Madam Gelinda and a pair of Sky Sentries in full armor. She watched as they did their routine of asking questions, solving doubts, fixing kinks in the process, and letting griffons go their way for what felt like an hour.

Gilda imagined Gia and Gelinda’s apprentice were probably doing the same, but she didn’t know the younger local Loremaster and it would be awkward. She also didn’t want to be too close to Gia and her bad mood. Staying with Gelinda and Gosalynn sounded nicer.

A couple of hours passed, and they drew closer to lunchtime. Just as the dudes in armor let go a couple, she saw a cub walking their way. About five or six years old and coming their way like he had a grudge to settle. Gilda just sat there, watching the inexorably approaching cub like it was a meeting with destiny.

He stopped in front of Gosalynn, easily the highest authority if one didn’t know the Loremasters and their ‘uniform’. He glared at her like he could set her on fire.

“May I help you?” Gosalynn cocked an eyebrow. “Uh… Sir?”

He was a light shade of tan and sandy yellow with well-kept fur and feathers. Didn’t look like a homeless kid, and was slightly overweight. Funny enough, his voice was almost in the same range as Gosalynn’s.

“Yes, ma’am. Kindly!” He started with a serious and professional tone. “I demand compensation for my losses!”

Gosalynn blinked at him, and Gilda hid her chortling behind her paw. Gelinda chuckled softly at the cub, drawing his eyes. “Is that so? What seems to be the problem, young master?”

Just around the time Gilda started wondering when the kid was going to start regretting his antics, a frantic and panicked cry came from the mass of griffons. A young couple ran towards them on the brink of panic. She was a tan and green queen that wore a nice dress, transparent light green with a high collar. Next to her came a similarly young, but even more scared dude. Wearing one of those lame collars and tie the ponies use, his coat was a darker shade of tan, with light brown. Both with light brown eyes that were mimicked in their kid.

While they didn’t seem rich, they certainly looked like they had a comfortable life. And that was saying a lot in the situation Griffonia found itself.

“Govig, for the love of…” The mother started and gave the adults a scared grin, stumbling on her words of what would be acceptable to swear ‘for the love of’ given present company. Gilda cringed. Some griffon swearing to Celestia would be in trouble in those parts. “Of… For the love of everything that is sacred! Don’t just run off like that!”

“I am sorry ma’am!” The father didn’t know if he should look to the Captain or the Loremaster. Meanwhile, Gilda and the two Sky Sentries just enjoyed the show while he stumbled on words too. “He’s not used to-”

Both parents almost died when Gelinda rose a finger to her beak for them to shut up. If Gilda wasn’t so on edge because the cub could put them into trouble, she would have found that funny as all heck.

“Is Govig your name, youngling?” The Loremaster turned to the kid. “Are these your parents?”

“Yes!” He replied with certainty only a child could have in his situation.

“Well, Master Govig, what seems to be the problem?” She gave him a friendly and inquisitive stare.

The kid straightened his back and raised his beak, keeping a too-serious expression. “The provincial law enforcement has impounded my personal effects under legislation not sanctioned by the Hall of Friendship. Compensation and reparations are due under the scope of the law.”

The father hid it better than the mother, who held her face in her paws muttering something.

Well, we have a little lawyer on our paws. Quite amusing, if rather insufferable.

Gilda coughed a chuckle at Her comment. It helped alleviate her fear for the parents. Would that be a talent to foster? Gilda wondered with a curious stare at the kid and his oh-so educated and refined stance.

Hardly. He is merely mimicking the adults. My Children have no talents, no destinies to fulfill. This is not something to encourage. Cubs are meant to be cubs, and there is nothing more that they can be. He has learned that doing that the adults will give him attention, and oft will succumb to his whims. In the South, parents are particularly vulnerable.

The thought triggered a few of Gilda’s childhood memories. Never one to do things like the cub, she had her moments. Though she had never fully embodied a lawyer. Or one of those annoying know-it-alls…

Cubs will learn what drives their parents, what will change their minds. They will try to manipulate them. They will cry, they will do anything… Even mimic the adults for an advantage. They may not even realize that the adults find it funny. All that matters is the result.

Gilda could swear she felt the smile in The Harpy’s dusky beak.

He is, after all, one of My Children. And without the varnish of societal rules, nothing is more ‘griffon’ than a griffon cub. My faithful Loremaster will fix their behavioral problem.

Well, that was an interesting tidbit. Gilda’s eyes found some more respect for the diminutive chimera of lion and eagle in the middle of the adults.

Meanwhile, Gelinda petted the kid and spoke softly.

“You should notice that you will have more success here in the North if you stop trying to talk like an adult.” Gelinda spoke calmly, and then she rolled her eyes. “An annoying kind of adult, no less. In the North we don’t have patience for little cubs that try to be more than cubs, and it is the natural child-like behavior that charms us.”

Maybe it was her way of speaking. Gilda could swear Gelinda could say anything and make it sound as the most honest truth in the world. The kid just blinked at her with a blank expression and let go of his ‘ruse’ without a second thought. His serious expression turned around to an angry pout.

“I understand you are frustrated, little one.” Gelinda went on. “What did the city’s guards take from you? Candy? Toys?”

The little cub sat with an angry frown and complained with a whine, kicking a pebble with his little forepaw. “They threw the strawberry marshmallow in the stupid river. It was perfectly fine marshmallow.”

“Nothing about that sort of pony food is ‘fine’.” Gelinda explained patiently like she was herself his mother. “It is mostly made of starches that will ruin your body’s ability to process energy. It will destroy your eyes, your kidneys, and your brain. It makes you slow, both in the body and in the mind. It is a slow-killing poison.”

“The ponies eat it all the time.” He pouted in the most adorable and irritating way Gilda ever thought possible.

“Don’t talk back to the Madam Loremaster, Govig!” The father nearly panicked.

But Gilda noticed it was not the same as the respect the Northerners had for their Loremasters she saw represented in Grunhilda. He was scared. And it didn’t help it when Gelinda fixed the couple a death-stare of doom. “I am talking to the cub. You clearly wasted your opportunity of educating him, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Respect me and him. Make silence until I talk to you, or I will have the guards educate you and show we are not so lenient with the guilty adults.”

Damn. If stares could kill. Gilda grimaced discreetly but decided against bringing the wrath of the Loremaster upon herself by defending the parents. And curiously enough, the Loremaster chastising his parents emboldened the little squirt.

“Ponies still eat marshmallow all the time.” He gave Gelinda a petulant stare, expecting her to explain herself.

“Well, you are not a pony, are you?” Gelinda fixed him an equally childish petulant stare of her own and pulled at one of the feathers on his head. “No, you are not. You are a beautiful Child of The Harpy.”

He made a weirded and confused frown, petting his feathers. “Uh… No. Mom’s name is Gretel.”

“An uninitiated.” Gelinda smiled deviously in a way that would have freaked Gilda out was she the target. The parents certainly looked like they were freaked out. “It’s alright. It is quite common, after all. Southerner griffon families who think they will benefit from the agreements with the Northerners are common. They become supporters, hoping they will never have to deliver in the commitments that Our Mother requires. Most certainly leaving their cubs’ education as one of the Children of The Harpy unfulfilled.”

Oh man… The mood swinged around painfully in that conversation. Gelinda said it was okay, but her tone indicated it clearly wasn’t. Gilda’s first instinct was to come to the parent’s defense. They lived in the South, after all. They didn’t understand, as Gilda too didn’t understand not long ago. But fortunately, she said nothing, because Gelinda wasn’t done yet.

The old Loremaster’s eyes turned dangerous, like they were when Gilda first saw her talking to the mother. Just as Gilda first arrived in town. Yet she softly petted the kid’s head. “That is a lesson easily learned once griffons from the south realize that they are also the Children of The Harpy. That they are the apostate prodigal children that led easy and comfortable lives while the Eldest of The Harpy fought the Pegasi for every cubit of land. And the Windigos too. Loyal to the land itself and to their fallen ancestors, your eldest took hold of these cold and forgotten lands. They would never dare relinquish it to their fell magic.”

“Since they finally found the truth, griffons from the South rue learning about their boreal siblings. Who to this day and since times immemorial have shed their blood and buried family to defend the lands of griffons forgetful of their legends and tales. The southerner griffons know they are traitors who found comfort under the wings of the Matriarch of the Great Herd. That they have chosen sweet food and clear skies over the stormy mountains where we were born. All in spite of our Mother and Her Eldest.”

“Thus, the southerners soon understand why it is that the northerners are so sour and impatient with them.” Gelinda looked at the parents, then at Gilda. “Why the Mother of Storms doesn’t forget and much less forgives. Why blood is so important to Her and how deep goes the sacrilege of their forefathers that chose the Sun.”

“The little ones are luckier.” Again, Gelinda petted Govig’s little head with his confused frown. “They don’t understand the sins that haunt their parents now that the time of reckoning has come. Less tainted, they find it easier to adapt for learning is what they do best. Pony plushies and candy are easier to replace than coins with Celestia’s face in them and the comforts of a corrupt government.”

“You will find there is no use for lawyers in the North. The Law is the Will of The Harpy, and the courthouses are the halls of the lords of the land. Justice is Our Mother’s judgment, and the only executor is the Lord of the Skies.” Gelinda spoke with a mysterious voice, as though she was casting doom over them. “Take heart, though. The prodigal children should still be happier than the ones that never heard Her Cry. For all griffons are Her Children, and She loves all. But Her love is vicious, and Her memory is older than time.”

That didn’t help the two adults, if the dejected frowns and slumped shoulders on them were any indication. The two Sky Sentries with them kept their beaks shut and Gosalynn had a downward frown that was difficult to read.

Gilda herself understood where Gelinda was coming from. But it was not like those griffons had any guilt over any of that. Certainly not over the whole issue with the Pegasi. That was thousands of years ago, before the Windigos. They had no blame about the Windigos either; that was on the ponies, the Unicorn Kings.

Have you forgotten your own journey, my Child?

Gilda frowned, with another look at the two griffons and the confused cub. Until her brow shifted into a scowl. They were involved with the legal system. Same as Judge Gracey, that prick that helped the Mayor’s Wife fuck over her life. The same kind of griffons that would serve The Emperor first and then would turn their back on the lone Swordmaidens stranded in a hostile land. Who pointed fingers and had them hunted like animals to be used and then sacrificed in a macabre spectacle if it saved their own skins.

But Gilda focused on the Loremasters’s words, rather than on her own memories. A glance at Gelinda’s own scowl showed Gilda those were the right thoughts. She had just delivered to those two griffons exactly the words they needed to hear. Just like she did with Gil. And even Gilda. The way the Loremasters always knew what to say to get griffons to think was almost awe-inspiring.

Those were griffons that sided with the Northerners, but they didn’t share their culture. They wanted benefits. They were the indolent southerner griffons that lived in peace because their brothers and sisters in the north held the monsters from the Windigos at bay. And yet, they never acknowledged the Northerners and their plight until they needed them.

Until one day when Lord Gilad killed a giant monster near Greenleaf, and it made it to the news. Only then the griffons in the south realized they might have a worthy leader to choose other than the corrupt political class they had created over the centuries. Except now they had to look at the sins their ancestors had committed. Because The Harpy doesn’t forget.

And yet other than that, you would still not read about the northerners in the newspapers. It was only about how the northerners withheld the game meat and that drove prices up. How the northerners made a diplomatic blunder with the hippogriffs and that caused the price on imported foodstuffs to soar. Or about how the barbarians wanted to split with the nice and friendly ponies and cause a rift in Griffonia. Drag it into a civil war.

Gilda grimaced and her paw closed into a tight fist. Of course, the newspapers would never talk about how the Griffonian Standing Army would murder two heroes with a newborn child just because they felt threatened either.

Gilda would like to see their fat and silver-tongued chancellor fighting a monster. She had never seen The Lion fighting, but she could imagine the large and powerful griffon wielding a battleaxe and crying a mighty spell. Summoning The Harpy’s magic and bringing her power to bear against some undead monster. Why not, after all she had sparse recollections of The Emperor doing so.

Just the thoughts of him were enough to make her blush if she wasn’t careful. Such powerful and base instincts he brought on Gilda’s link to the past that was Ghadah. Because even The Emperor, cruel and brutal as he was, would not fall victim to corruption. If anything, it was his love and loyalty to his vassals that caused his downfall.

And those were the same newspapers that would go on and on about ‘The Mane Six’. The great heroes of Equestria and all their escapades. And how the great Griffonian Standing Army had helped them keep the world safe.

It was not like the ponies hadn’t done their share, but it was always about them, and never about the wrongdoing inside the Griffonian government. Much less the living tales and legends of the North. Like that Grimhammer dude that founded the very city they were in. What about Grunhilda’s dead parents? A great ranger and a legendary smith? They fought side by side with none other than Celestia. Heck… Master Galahault had made Gilda a legendary weapon, and nobody knew about it!

They will soon, Child. The legend of the Swordmaiden of the Shaddani is growing. And soon all that will be corrected. I promise you so.

Yeah… Gilda’s thoughts in that regard had changed. She wasn’t jealous anymore. Just frustrated that the ponies and the wrong griffons hogged all the limelight. Nobody knew about the things that happened behind the curtains. All the ancient griffons did. It just made Gilda all the more eager to be off on her journey north. To see Griffindell’s back walls.

About time the griffons learned the right way to be griffons. Gilda made it, after all. They would have all the help they would need. Like Gelinda, still talking to the little kid. She helped those griffons find a ‘north’ to their new life. They just had to wise up. Again, just like Gilda had.

They only needed to listen to The Harpy.

Still… Something deep inside told Gilda that a better path would be one of tolerance. Yes, grievances, especially ones that hurt so much shouldn’t be forgotten. Yet griffons still were griffons. And ponies were still ponies. And ponies were the enemy, not griffons. Griffons could be saved. Educated. Shown an example to follow. And that was Gilda’s job as the Swordmaiden of the Shaddani.

Enough introspection for the day. She turned her attention back to Gelinda talking to the kid and it was almost heartwarming.

“You are in a privileged position, child.” The old Loremaster told him with some mirth in her sharp blue eyes, holding his beak up so that he would look at her properly. “The way to raise griffon cubs, as Our Mother Harpy has taught the first griffons, is to excuse them until a certain age. To let them explore the world, and learn that fire burns and the fresh water from a clear stream is most refreshing.”

Gilda blinked the shock out of her. Did Gelinda just tell the kid he had a free pass at doing whatever he wanted? The panic on his mother’s face said everything.

“That doesn’t sound like good parenting…” Gilda gave Gelinda an inquisitive stare. She just couldn’t hold it. Just the thought of her young self let loose on the world was terrifying.

“But it is how Our Mother taught us.” The Loremaster explained further with a patient smile. “Young griffons ought to explore and learn new things. Guided by their parents, but they must set their own limits. They must learn what is good or bad by themselves. Listening to the experience of older griffons or hurting themselves if they won’t. Until they reached their teenage years. Then they must learn discipline, self-restraint. Stoicism with which to make educated decisions. The fortitude to dominate the negative emotions and the turmoil of sensations and desires their bodies will present to them.”

“And then…” The old griffoness smiled. “Once they have conquered their whims and mastered their own selves, they will be ready to govern over their own lives. They will know when and how to break the rules. They’ll be responsible and mature. They’ll be ready to know of the pleasures of life and how to take control of their own lives, instead of being controlled by their lives. And that is how the mighty griffons of our history were made. All you need is one glance at the majesty that is Lord Gilad, so called The Lion.”

Gilda almost heard the unsaid words about Chancellor Gail. Or maybe she was starting to wise up and could swear she heard the unsaid words about herself.

Gosalynn gave a small nod of agreement, as though the Loremaster had spoken the truth, through and through. Gilda stared at the small cub and his sparkling eyes. Once again, the Loremaster had spoken exactly what needed to be said.

“And that is why all griffons must make this peregrination north. They must find who they are and what their place is under Our Mother. Past the North Gates the Frozen North and the spawn of the Windigos await. They will put your strength to the test, and your resolve must not falter.” Gelinda let her voice raise as Gilda noticed griffons had gathered around to listen to her. “Celestia will give you everything and ask you to love her while the Allmother will let you suffer and doesn’t care if you hate her. You will be battered and humiliated, you will know pain and dread.”

“You will beg Her to help you, but She will not! Not until you have hardened your cores and conquered your weaknesses.” Gelinda turned around, speaking to the crowd, sitting on her haunches, and opening her forepaws. “You can hate Her all you want for it, and you can blaspheme and rage. She will not care, because She knows us in ways that you couldn’t ever. She knows what a griffon is made of and what will make or break one. That is how Our Mother made us. That is how Aya Harpyia has forged our souls and will temper it into steel in the cold of the Frozen North.”

There was no cheering or whooping. Only stern nods and downward stares of shame. Gilda supposed she was in a better position than most, but she still was nowhere near what Ghadah was. Not even close to Gelinda either. There was a time when she would have scoffed at the Loremaster’s words. But what they did that morning was light a fire inside Gilda’s chest. It had been burning for a while and if she had ever lacked resolve, it was not now.

Well… North was the way to go, and where she meant to go. She had even found space for some griffons to go along, to find themselves with her. Gilda supposed that she was doing well enough.

Anyways, the show was over, and the two parents had moved on with their cub. Along with a few words they may not have liked but needed to hear. Gilda would never gush over another griffon, but Gelinda conquered quite a lot of her respect in that meeting.

Either the old griffoness could actually read minds, or Gilda was more transparent than she cared to admit, because the Loremaster smiled at her. “Words are Our Mother’s mission for me, Swordmaiden.”

And no more words were needed.

I’m aware that G5’s Izzy’s second name is Moonbow, but this one actually has a bow.

Joking aside, no connection whatsoever. I just didn’t want to change the character’s name.