Do you remember, dear Child? The Stormy Eyrie. The sacred mountains where I gave rise to your proud race. Lost to the malice of the Windigos, ages ago.

The Stormy Eyrie? Nice name. It did ring some bells too. Distant and muffled by the noises of daily life. But Gilda had heard the name before. Or maybe in another life. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure. Something stirred, however. Something forgotten in a dark corner, hidden away past the distracting memories of day-to-day life.

But she found it. Something she didn’t remember and at the same time ought to never forget, hidden behind the petty struggles of the everyday bore. Something wonderful which had fallen behind the counter, ages, lives ago. Still, it shone as bright as the day it was seared into her soul with a flame as bright as the moment of Creation itself.

Gilda found herself in a cave, a place she had never been before. Curiously, the realization didn’t come with the expected weirdness. She was just there, as she should. She had a nice aquamarine rug made with the coat for some animal where she slept. She really liked it, since it went nicely with her cyan coat, but mostly with her aquamarine eyes. A pile of bones sat on a corner, and she needed to get rid of them before they started stinking in her cave. Seriously, nobody liked that.

Next to the wall, rocks and slabs of wood made for a shelf where she kept her things. Just nice things, like shinny yellow rocks she found in the deeper caves of the mountain, near the base where she often went to gather firewood. A few pouches made from the bladder of a big caribou. They often wandered too close to the mountains. Mostly, she used them to hold water com the valley as it drained from the summit when it was hotter. Flying down the mountain to drink was a pain.

Small bowls made of carved wood held nice smelling petals. Some fat, useful for making salves and tinder to make the fire easier to start. A few herbs for teas which took the pain away, or that made her feel happy. Teas for when sleeping was difficult and ointments for bites and scratches or simply to get her coat all nice and shiny.

Leaves stirred on the valley below. It approached… She had to hurry, or she might miss it. Screw the bones, she’d deal with them later. She had more important things to do.

Past the cave's entrance, the air became colder with the wid, but it refreshed her muscles, tired of the day’s chores. The chill made her feel awake and aware, while the hard stone made for a good perch outside her cave. The darkened sky eased her eyes, and the moonlight provided all the light she would need as clouds rolled over the top of the world. Some griffons liked living above the clouds, but she thought they missed the point of the clouds.

From her perch she saw many other caves and mountains joined together at their bases, valleys littered by tall pointy trees waving with the wind and a few streams here and there. She could even see a few scared animals running. Elk, fleeing the mountain range, caught unawares. They could smell it too. The aroma of rain announced Her arrival. They had remained behind for too long, seeking the fertile greens, and now their lives were forfeit. They knew it as well as she did, yet they ran anyway. They always did, even when they knew they would not escape nor see their loved ones ever again.

But no hunting for her yet. She stretched and arched her back, yawned into her paw and stared indifferently at the griffons exiting the caves, sitting by the rocky outcrops. Some of them took flight, lazily circling above the woods, avoiding the turbulent winds. Kids… Showing off their clumsy flying, hoping some young and inexperienced queen would endear herself to their ungainly skills.

She was past their level. Shinny coats, preened feathers and basic flying skills were part of the game, but others still reached beyond. Already gone, they searched for better prey on the prairies beyond the mountains. They still didn’t understand. It was not the juicy pray that made the moment special. Even with the sweet flesh and fragrant dark red blood she craved.

Not yet, at least. Once again, the others, even the ones who thought they understood missed the point.

She waited for something sublime, greater than all the food or attention a companion could give her. Something the barely adults didn’t understand quite yet. They had never stopped and waited. They never listened to it, always too busy trying to show they were stronger, faster.

It made her the most coveted one. She understood her price was higher than a dead rabbit or the still hot liver of a hoofed beast. The other griffons who waited understood it too, and they had learned watching her. She understood something which made her special because she showed it to others.

Soft rain touched the gray stone and her cyan coat. She looked up to the skies and let it caress her. Velvety and smooth at first, it turned to cold and heavy drops falling from the heavens. She stood on her hindlegs, welcoming it with her open forelegs and flared wings, closed eyes, lost in pure bliss. Untainted, untouched magic washed over her coat, embracing her every inch as the most thorough of lovers. It filled her with joy and her heart beat faster to the same rhythm of splattering raindrops on the hard stone.

Magic surged all around her and the world seemed brighter, more real. She could feel it vibrating in her feathers. Resonating in her bones and her anxious talons, outstretched, and reaching up, grasping at the air as though she could hold it all for herself.

Suddenly it happened.

Lightning flashed with the booming clap of thunder. It resounded in her lungs and blinded her for a second, ringing in her ears, echoing in the mountains. A tree exploded in fiery splinters in the valley below and the excited clouds above rumbled, lit with the raw, unrestrained, unstoppable might of the Mother of Storms!

Her blood boiled and an uncontainable euphoria simmered in her chest. She had to let it out with a piercing wailing cry and her mighty wings in full display.

The others followed suit; they felt it too. The Allmother called to them. Her mighty magic stirred their blood and brought out the raptor in their souls. They sang to their Mother in a rising storm to meet the one that stirred the heavens and the bones of the earth themselves shook at their power.

The moment had arrived! Her wings flapped to the rumbling thunder as though the storm itself sang with them following the blaze ignited in the clouds. She could hear Her cry in the thunder. Calling them out. Urging Her Children to fly and take the world, for it was theirs. She had given it to them.

Thunder echoed and the windows rattled. Gilda laid on her side, holding her paws together in the soft bed, in the small guest room. Tears trickled down from her eyes. Thunder echoed again, and she could hear Her, calling to her.

Something gaped inside of her. She missed something she didn’t really understand, and the memories dulled every time she recalled them.

He will kick you out. His superior found you are targeted by powerful individuals and he, in his stupid compliance, confirmed you are in his house. He is afeared and lacks the courage to make a stand for one he called his friend. He will betray you and his mate out of his fear.

Greta was Gilda's friend. She would stand by her.

You will find yourself alone and when you are in danger, you must fend for yourself. You will have no one in that place with the true bounds of honor and fellowship to stand by your side. They have forgotten the pride I instilled into your souls. They hid it in the back of their minds where the shame cannot reach to them. They have decided the way of the hooved ones is easier, less painful. Once again, the legacy of the Traitor King will be your torment and you will see you have no friends in that place.

Gary was her friend too. Gilda didn’t believe any of it.

You will cry for me before the end of the night, as you did when the blaze licked at your skin, tied at the stake. And I will save you again, for you are My Child and I beckon you to me.

Thunder clapped again and the door opened. Gary looked inside and she already stared at him from the bed. He gasped, scared at finding her awake, with big eyes, but he still walked in.

“Gilda… I’m sorry…”

No… He was not. The creaky ceiling returned to her mind and an old female tried to protect a group of hopeless refugees. But her friend turned his back on her. She didn’t frown, though. She didn’t react.

“My boss… He came to see me… And…”

Traitor. Coward. The words came to her mind, but her beak didn’t move. Deep inside, she didn’t want to hurt Greta and she knew whoever sought to do her harm wouldn’t spare them. He was a coward, and Greta would be foolish. Gilda should distance herself, for their sake. She would find no shelter in their home. She knew from the first moment, but p´retended she didn’t.

She simply stood and walked past him.

“Gilda…” He mumbled.

“Don’t talk to me anymore.” She growled quietly. “I don’t want them to hurt Greta.”

He mumbled in the dim light from the public lighting outside entering from the windows. She turned her back to him, picking up the keys on the small table. Gilda opened the door and left under the storm.

He didn’t call her. He didn’t do anything. The door simply closed.

Fucking traitor.

Lightning flashed. It cast its glow over the street and the cute griffon houses that flanked it. Thunder soon followed. She didn’t look back. Didn’t have anywhere to go, but she didn’t look back and took the left past the walkway to the porch. No particular reason but she had been already to the right way, and it led back to her burned house. Nothing remained for her in there.

She wouldn’t be able to get her money either, so fuck it.

She thought of going to the hospital. Maybe she would get a place to stay. Unofficially, but it would likely just get Miss Goldina into trouble. So, fuck that too.

And speaking of that, fuck the community service too. Fuck the community itself. No one was going to help her, and she was left alone. In fact, it was worse than that. They had all betrayed her. Never a model citizen, but she did her best with what she had. One time, just one time she stepped out of the line, and in defense of her livelihood. It was all they needed to fuck her over!

She should have punched that pissant dweeb harder, caved his beak into his fucking skull. And then done the same to that fat, disgusting cunt he had for mother. At least then she could have told the bitch judge that she had done something wrong!

But, perhaps, the worst of it all was if she had been sent to fucking Shatteredrock they would still find a way to screw her over!

Lightning flashed and she found herself in the central plaza, staring at King Grover’s statue. She growled, staring up. “Great fucking job you did, dumbass!”

“Look around you! This is the shit kingdom you left for us! Griffons can’t even be nice to each other without the fucking ponies coming here and teaching us! And even then, your oh so great legacy is a rat nest of corrupt assholes who will take everything from us and then screw us over because… Because… Fuck it! Shitty peasants gotta get screwed anyway!”

“Ma’am, you’re screaming at a statue of a guy that’s been dead for thousands of years…” A female voice told her from behind.

She didn’t even think and turned as though she meant to rip someone’s throat out. She would if she didn’t think she had enough troubles as it were. It was Judge Gracie’s kid, next to that female who ‘handled’ her while in jail. Both of them wore a heavy raincoat over their armor and gear.

“You are also making me stand in the rain…” The female deadpanned at her.

The male shook his head. “Look, she’s been having some tough days. Let’s just leave her alone, alright?”

“Wait!” The female gasped. “You’re the dumbass who punched the mayor’s kid! Sorry. You’re screwed enough as it is.”

Gilda just stared at them. “Just how the hell can you just be in the local militia knowing the dirty crap that goes on and not do anything about it? Are you guys just cool with it?”

“Ma’am…” The male glared at her. “My mother is the Madam Justiciar for the whole hold of Griffonland. Do you have any idea how screwed I would be if I started making noise? She could put the Lord Protector himself and the whole local militia through hell if she wanted. She has the power to put the Chancellor himself behind bars if she wanted. Not even Gail would mess with her. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if that dick in the north, The Lion, became king and not even he messed with her.”

“Yeah, right. Cool thing she gave you a job, though. Right? I’m starting to think the ‘dick in the north’ really is a better solution.” She turned to the other. “What is your excuse?”

The female shrugged. “My excuse is that my mom isn’t some big powerful justice. None of that is my problem. My problem, right now, is that there is some crazy bitch screaming at a statue in the middle of the town at two in the morning! Look, I get it, but things suck for everyone and The Mare doesn’t give a flying fuck about us! We’re not her cute ponies and griffons gotta deal with griffon problems. We elected Gail, and all the griffon representatives in the Hall of Friendship anyways.”

“Fine.” Gilda relented. “I’m sorry. I’ll find somewhere else to soak in the rain and die already.”

“You know there’s a homeless shelter in Idle Stream street, right?” She at least tried to pretend she cared.

Yeah, right. The Mother of Storms would pluck her feathers if she went to a fucking homeless shelter. Wait… What?

“Look, ma’am…” The male guard at least seemed sincere in his concern. “You gotta get out of the rain. If you get sick, it will only make things worse for you. I’m sorry too.”

He didn’t have the courage to look her in the eyes and his went to the wet cobblestone. “It sucks. I hate this. But I can’t do anything.”

Yeah. Another fucking coward who ‘would love to but’. Too much of a pussy to do anything about that whole shitty situation. Maybe griffons really need The Lion. Speaking of that…

“Hey, whatever happened to Grizelda and Gertrude?”

“Who?” The male didn’t even know. The female shrugged.

“They got out by noon. Don’t know, don’t care. Not my problem.”

Gilda sighed. “And the crazy big gal that made trouble in the town hall? I was there.”

“Ah… She’s getting sent to Shatteredrock.” The male said. “I mean, she injured a militia… That’s… Kinda like a personal ticket to Tartarus.”

“She was sick.” Gilda felt like she was going to get sick.

“I don’t care!” He lost his temper. “I don’t care what she was flying on. Could’ve been me! You injure a militia, you’re signing your own death warrant. It’s simple as that.”

Gilda just frowned at him. “I hope the Lion does come and does something about you guys. All of you. They burned my house and I had to leave my friend’s and you two assholes are angry at me I’m yelling at a statue.”

“Well, turns out there is a law that prohibits you from making noise in the night, sweetheart.” The female said. “Not to mention that with that whole business of war, some dumbass that punched the mayor’s kid and is wandering the streets is likely to be mistaken for a spy. So, you should beat it. Why don’t you go soak somewhere else before you give me trouble I don’t need?”

Time to leave. She turned and went… She didn’t know where. Some direction she had never gone to, between two state buildings filled with officials that did whatever to her money. As if they would be working at that time. It turned to a small street with closed stores. She soaked in the rain, but still managed to feel bad at seeing an old griffon siting under a soaked cardboard next to a gas light pole.

Under the cold rain, she stopped to look at him from a distance. Even in his sleep, sitting and leaning against the pole, he seemed so exhausted. He didn’t have any clothes and his coat was so dirty. A soot and filth which resisted even the water drenching him in spite of his flimsy shelter.

Something inside her urged her to do something about it, but what could she do? She didn’t have anything left either. Then it began turning to anger.

What was his story? She didn’t know. Maybe he used to be some government official who told his boss how fucked up things were and got kicked out for it. Or maybe just some old guy who worked with something simple, but that he liked, and when the Chancellor decided he would fight a stupid war, he lost everything.

So different from the other old guy, Gabriel, the museum curator. Weren’t the pony princesses supposed to be making things better for everyone? At the same time, Gabriel’s words returned to her. The Chancellor worked for the princesses, and not for the griffons. It rang very true in the picture of a homeless, tired griffon, abandoned.

She served as a good example of it too, by the way. She just hadn’t reached his level. Though, she supposed her end of the road lied in the same path Grizelda and Gertrude had taken. She wouldn’t last much time because she doubted those assholes trying to ‘destroy her shitty life’ would let her live for long.

Yeah… Right. She resumed her walk under the rain as thoughts festered inside her head. A griffon she had called her friend wouldn’t help her. Grizelda and Gertrude wouldn’t either. They probably have their own problems too and she couldn’t even say they would be expected to help.

Not to mention Gilda might as well die before it came to that.

Do not fool yourself, My Child. You will do whatever it takes to survive. It is in your nature to adapt and overcome the challenges the world throws at you. Not to mention you are not uninitiated in the motions of pleasure.

Great… Not only she felt like someone put thoughts inside her head, but the damn voice in her head became sassy.

She frowned to herself and water from the rain drained in between her eyes. Princess Luna certainly knew of all that bullshit. Why didn’t she do anything? Why didn’t her sister do anything?

Eyes forward, My Child.

Thunder flashed on the walls, and she could see the figures of three griffons approaching from the opposite way she went. Immediately she tensed up, even before a whole list of all the awful things which could happen to her popped up inside her head.

“Shit…” She whispered to herself and trotted down the transversal street, trying to keep to the flimsy public illumination, surrounded by store fronts. Not a damn house she could seek shelter. The rain didn’t relent in the slightest and she realized she had no idea where she was.

In the wrong part of town, certainly… She’d never been there. Part of her, a thought away from panic, wanted to fly away. But flying in that damn rain was dangerous and they might as well catch her flying anyways. Not only would they do to her whatever they meant to do, but she could smack her face in a wall in the dark.

She picked up her pace and almost broke into a gallop. Breathing with all the rain in her beak became harder but fear prevented she stopped. Someone landed at the next crossing, though. She could see him in the dim public light. She stopped and took back a few steps. The damn rain made so much noise she couldn’t hear a thing, but she saw him grinning.

She turned to run the other side, and there was another guy in there. In the shade, but she saw him moving. She turned again and her heart was trying to burst out of her chest. To her right was a dark alleyway and lightning flashed again to show it ended on the tall wall of a building, complete with trash cans. Fucking way she was going in there!

Gilda glanced up and opened her wings. One of them hovered above her, but she had barely noticed it when the one behind her pulled at her tail. She screamed and turned to him; her tail tucked between her hindlegs.

“Easy, girlie.” A burly, dark tan and white griffon laughed, mocking her in a way which humiliated and scared her.

The other approached and she snapped to stare at the green and gray with an ugly scar of a cut on the side of his head. She screamed at his paw hovering next to her and they laughed as she recoiled and tripped on the curb. They laughed some more as she fell on her side to the muddy cold water, and she cried again. Her paws slipped and she almost fell again.

“Easy there, hot stuff. We just wanna talk.” Dark tan chuckled.

“Please!” She cried, backing away. Her right hindleg gave a little and her ankle hurt. She probably hit it on the curb. But she still backed out. “Please, don’t hurt me!”

The two of them laughed and walked forward, forcing her to back down. Her paws trembled and she could barely think straight anymore. All she did was scream when her hindquarters bumped into something.

She tried to run, but one of the griffons in the front shoved and forced her to sit in the dirty water that pooled from the rain in alley. Someone grabbed her from behind. Got a hold of her forelegs and pulled them up and back. She tried resisting, but all she managed was her hindlegs skipped on the wet pavement and suddenly she thrashed on her back, exposed to them.

“Please! I don’t have anything!” She screeched, struggling helplessly, and kicking up the water still pouring from the sky. “Someone help me!”

“Hey! Hey, girlie!” Tan talked to her. The third’s warm body rubbed against her back, his harsh grasp hurt her wrists and the other one leered over her. “This is all your fault! You messed with the wrong griffons. Shoulda seen this commin’, ya?”

His words shot panic through her, and she struggled pointlessly. She started sobbing and wailing. She could smell the moldy straw and hear her sisters’ crying in the rain. Lightning flashed and thunder echoed. She closed her eyes, but she kept seeing the dark basement.

One of them poked her in the chest and the tan one spoke again. “Shoulda left town, stupid hoe. Now we gotta kill ya and make the evidence disappear. Least ya could do is pay us for the work.”

The other two laughed and the guttural laughter that sounded with her own cries and that of her sisters seemed the same. A male grunting above her and she didn’t know what was real anymore.

A strong paw held her beak and she couldn’t break free. She cried, but no voice came out and her breath was too short. She tried crying for help, but her thoughts were lost in the cacophony of gross and her own panic.

The voice inside her head laughed, harmonious like a singing bird in counterpoint to the flash that illuminated the street and the resounding thunder which followed.

You do not need a magical sword to send these wretched souls to the Scorch. Their flesh is frail and the only weapon they have is your fear. Yet, fear is inexistent, and pain is but temporary. You are a Swordmaiden of The Harpy and I bestowed upon you all my blessings. Your body knew the art of killing before you were born and all it needs is your will.

Gilda herself didn’t fully understand what happened. When paws touched her lower pair of teats, something snapped inside her head. She let go of a heavy burden she didn’t know why she even carried. As soon as she did, everything seemed clear. Like a light at the end of tunnel, except it was a train. And these assholes were about to get ran over.

She pulled her hindlegs and kicked at the tan jerk trying to hold them. Just the right way that she pushed him back and propelled her into the one holding her. Both so surprised they screamed, but the one holding her let go. She beat her wings once and pirouetted to land on her fours, splashing the dirty pooled water. Her wings open, she stood on her hindlegs and her whole body tensed.

Tan got up first and looked so pissed. He didn’t even mind stepping on the one still on his back while the third circled around. She almost laughed. She was taught by the one who understood her kind the most how griffons and their heads worked. Lust and arrogance clouded their judgement, otherwise they would have realized flight was the better option.

He lowered himself to the watery ground and so stupidly telegraphed to her his intention she almost felt bad for his pathetic self. Of course, it was the other who attacked her, from the side, from where they thought he could catch her unaware. He tried tackling her, and all she did was take a step back and push him past her to lose his balance and go face first to the wet floor.

The tan one pounced at her, roaring and aiming his talons at her, she sidestepped him and slashed her own talons at his face, opening a bloody gash under his eye. He didn’t let it stop him. He landed on his fours and stood, clawing at her but the best he managed were a few scratches glancing off her plumage. She locked her talons at his neck and pierced his skin, pulling him down and ripping off skin. He screamed at the pain and fell to the water, his weight thrown off balance.

The third one lunged at her with a dagger. From too far and she saw the blade from metaphorical miles away. She held his wrist, redirected his thrust and with practiced ease twisted it so her other paw held the weapon. Before he even knew what had happened, she pushed its point downward over his collar bone. He screeched and his balance failed in his panic at the gushes of blood he tried to hold.

She chuckled at his big, terror-filled eyes while he squirmed in the filthy water quickly becoming red. They looked so tough before.

The one she had shoved to the ground pulled a wheellock pistol from under his wing and aimed at her. She didn’t think, just covered herself with a wing and the powder exploded as it should, but she barely felt the iron ball glancing off her magic-infused feathers. He stared dumbly at her for an instant before the tan one attacked her again.

An angry, furious roar escaped him as he reached for her neck with his bloody forelimbs. Flaps of meat and and plumage hung from him where her talons had cut his face and his neck. She responded with a shrill cry, jumping at him, higher. Her weight and momentum made him topple with his back to the ground and she held his neck. She could feel the pulse of his blood under her paws and hear his wheezing over the storm. His panic driven slashes at her forelimbs, chest and shoulders felt pointless.

She pressed harder and grinned with a cruel delight she hadn’t felt in a while. “I’ve fucked females that scratched me harder, you little waste of griffon.”

The remaining one took a pair of steps back and turned to run. Just left.

And the one she held squirmed until his slashes became weak a flailing of his forelegs and limp pushes at her until he stopped altogether. She stood, but her head spun. She grunted and fell to the ground.

Gilda woke on the pooled rainwater. Dark still claimed the alley and the rain still poured, but the water smelled of blood. A distant thunder growled in the distance while she stood. Eerie silence other than the sounds of the rain and little light other than the gas lights of the public illumination.

She saw, clear as day, a white and black griffoness, tall and imposing, perched over her, as though she watched her sleep. It startled her, but once she blinked, the griffoness wasn’t there anymore.

Her body ached, soaked, and smelling of blood. Her head ached most of all, but she didn’t seem hurt or sore. Her wrists hurt a little, but not much, and she felt like she had been hit here or there, but nothing like in that dream she had the other day.

She immediately remembered what happened and stood slowly, next to the lifeless griffon on his back. Didn’t spare him more than a glance and looked around to find the other, limp in the water.

She frowned. They deserved it. Fuckers didn’t know how to rape a single griffoness. And in this filthy water. For fuck’s sake, she was used to soft pillows and sandalwood incense. Before, that was… Did that line of thought make any sense? She didn’t really care. That piece of shit deserved to suffocate and that other deserved to bleed to death. There were worse ways of dying. She knew.

Gilda looked at her paw and a swollen piece of meat stuck to a talon. She shook it off.

Then she sobbed. “This… This… This is wrong. This is messed up!”

Well, get a hold of yourself, Gilda. These jerks messed with the wrong griffoness. Could’ve been Greta. She controlled her shaking and her breathing. Would’ve been Greta. Griffons like the ones she read about in the news. They’d slash Gary’s neck open and take turns raping Greta. Like those pieces of shit, so long ago.

She did a favor to the world putting these down and her only regret was that one of them escaped.

She sat on the pooled water and raised an eyebrow. What did she do in that desert those griffons hated her so much? Huh… No bad or good griffons, just sides. Fair enough.

She glanced at the griffon with his punctured neck. He chose the wrong side. His eyes were open, and the red had stolen away from his conjunctiva. The other had nasty gashes and a bruise around his neck. At least she supposed the local militia would have a bit of work.

She stood again and walked. She knew she couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t be seen with those… Things. She looked back into the alleyway, to the bodies and turned to run. Nowhere in particular. Anywhere not there. Fast. As fast as she dared under the torrential rain.

Galloping through the empty and mostly dark streets only one thing was for sure: she couldn’t stay there. She had to go. The old museum curator and his words floated to her mind, and she had decided. She would find a way to go to Haybale and find his daughter. Gerdie. She would not allow them to catch her. She knew they would try again… Somehow, she doubted the ugly fat slob of a griffon would care that these two never reported back. She likely didn’t even have contact with them, but some crook of hers.

Gilda would not go to Shatteredrock and she would not live on the streets. She would not prostitute herself to survive, and she would not lead them back to Greta. She didn’t know how, but she would reach Griffindell. Wherever it was in the North.

And then, she would return to Griffonstone and show griffons what the Scorch looked like.

Next Chapter: Everything is Okay Estimated time remaining: 30 Hours, 51 Minutes