Not Without My Brother (WIP)

>”HALT! THAT'S FAR ENOUGH!”
>A spotlight blinds the two griffons.
>”Mel this isn’t how it was supposed to go!”
“SHUT UP! I’M TAKING MY BROTHER HOME AWAY FROM THESE SAVAGES!”
>“Mel please, we’ll only make it worse if-“
>”YOU HAVE TO THE COUNT OF TEN BEFORE WE RAIN DOWN A TORRENT OF MAGIC BOLTS ON ALL OF YOU!”
>The Crystal Guards surrounding the two form a shield wall and point their spears.
>On the rooftops across the street unicorns with crossbows enrapture their bolts with guiding magic and take aim.
>”Don’t you dare! That’s my son!”
>A Pegasus pleads with the Crystal Guard Captain behind the lines.
>”Sir, you are in NO room to make demands! By my account you are just a civilian in this situation! Please step back.”
“He’s not your son, he’s my brother you slaver!”
>”ONE…TWO…”
>”I will personally eviscerate and de-horn any unicorn who fires!”
“We are going back to Griffenstone TOGETHER!”
>”FIVE…SIX…”
>”Mel, please there has to be another way!”
>”None of you are going ANYWHERE!”
“A private boat for the Griffish Isles! That’s all I demand!”
>”EIGHT…NINE…TEN! FIRE!”

***

>3 months earlier.
>Climax of the Equestri-Griffo War.
>We are on the defensive.
>All the sacrifices, all the blood, all our effort…
>Worthless now.
>A small contingency force is held up in the Northern Crystal Mountains.
>Winter set in.
>Food and supplies are beginning to run low.
>Scouting parties have to forage farther and farther into the Yaket Mountain Range.
>The past few months turned up nothing.
>The last party sent out was about two weeks ago. Hopefully they come back soon.
>Only other option would be to try and raid small villages around the Crystal Empire.
>It would be too dangerous to try and go anywhere else.
>The villages at Rainbow Falls already were looted and sacked till there was nothing left.
>Be Ishmael Grad the Lesser.
>Son of Abram Grad the Greater, retired member of the renowned Merchant's Guild of Griffenstone.
>The relationship with your parents was...complicated to say the least.
>They hoped I would enlist an officer in the Professional Grande Armée.
>Not with the local militia consisting of rustic cottier's.
>But I would rather be with my friends, not serve with pompous spoiled griffons who earned their rank through nepotism.
>After joining the 'Beggars Battalions' as father called them, relations languished and you became to be know as an 'estranged son' to all their friends.
>Estranged doesn't mean abandoned though.
>Every couple of weeks I would get a letter.
>Formal. Of course.
>Always ending it as if I was a secretary or some business partner rather than his own flesh and blood.
>For what it's worth though, I still know they care.

>"Hey Melly? What ya readin?"

>The creature that is now pressed over your back is Elizabeak.
>She's a bastard orphan Father found on the street.
>Feeling sorry for the abandoned cub he adopted her.
>Ever since I could remember she was always by my side.
>Even when called off to fight she somehow wriggled her way into my regiment.

>"Is that another letter from Papa?"
"Yeah, 'Lord Bush-Beak' is asking about the front lines again."
>"You shoul' cut Pappy some slack. He 'as worked all 'is life to provide for us."
"I know, I just wish he could've been more supportive of my decision. What is so wrong about wanting to protect the homestead?"
>"Probly cause he don't wanna see ya get zapped by a horn horse?"
"That's not going to happen. This I can guarantee."

>Going back to reading the letter she plops herself atop your head trying to read along with you.
>"Wot that word say Mel?"
"Which one?"
>"That one!"
>Pointing to the bottom of the page far below where you are at, you reluctantly move her feathered finger out the way to see what it was.
>Growing up she wasn't allowed to go to school like you.
>'Cost too many extra bits'.
>What a load of Yak-manure.
>She carefully tries to sound it out.
>"P-Peg-Preg-Nant-Cy. Preg-Nancy?"
"It says pregnancy Liz. It means..."
>Realizing what you just said you pull the page back up to read.

...and Mother is doing quite well for her pregnancy. The Doctor presumes that in just a few months the cub shall arrive. I plead it's a girl to sustain Mother's craving of having another female member of this household. However I will not object if she gifts me a healthy gentle-griff. Hopefully *he* would follow in my path.

With Regards,
Abraham Grad the Greater

>You read it.
>Then re-read it.
"They're having another cub?"
>Elizabeak jumps over your head and soars above you with the giddiest of smiles.
>"Another Baby! I can't wait! Is it a girl or a boy? When did they say it was coming? Are you excited on being an ol'er brother? What did they say bout..."
>Liz's voice trails off as your mind races thinking of all the unimaginable repercussions this would bring.
>Is this them finally cutting ties?
>You're being replaced!
>I was always a little troubled, but...
>Maybe they expected me to die.
>Who needs some no-good runaway soldier?
>Fine then.
>I don't need him.
>I don't need any of them!
>He can have his perfect kid!
>His perfect life!
>His perfect family and shove it all up his-
>"Hey!"
>Looking up Liz is hovering just above you with a lighthearted smile.
>She rests one of her talons on your head.
>"I know that look, stop stressing yourself out. I know you are overthinking whatever it is you got cookin' in your 'head right now. Whether we come home as triumphant hero's or a beaten legion, Mom and Dad will always love you. And so will I."
>You stare at her for a second contemplating her words.
>What she lacks in education she makes up in compassion...and a whole lot of street smarts.
>Sometimes a little too much.
>In all your years you have known her you never beaten her in a game of poker.
>She's cheating somehow...just still need to figure out how.
>Liz sits back down next to you giving a very overbearing hug.
"I'm fine. I'm fine. You can get off now."
>"I don't feel like it."
"Shouldn't you be on watch or something?"
>"Meh. Got CP to cover me."
>Suddenly the Captain swoops down on the two of you.
>"What are you bird brains doing! Watchman signaled we have incoming!"
>In a flash Elizabeak goes from her happy-go-lucky state to soldier and zooms away.
>Leaving you just standing idly by the Captain.
>"Move it!"
"Yes Sir."
>Getting to your post you arrive just in time to see what's coming.
>It's a griffon from the last scouting party!

"Hey Antonowin! Over here!"
>Landing next to you he collapses to the floor.
>He's a little younger than you. Maybe by two or three years.
>His black coat is matted with dried blood and mud.
>"Get up son, where's the rest of the party? Did they manage to scrounge up any supplies?"
>The exhausted griffon tries to stand, but falls back on the ground.
>He manages to lift himself back up, but he almost topples over again.
>You let him lean on you so he could explain.
>The only expression on his face is a combination of horror and worry.
>"They're gone."
>"What do you mean they're gone? What happened?"
>"Nora, Lucia, Ambrose, Erik, Fahim. They are all gone."
>The Captain isn't a very patient griffon, when he gives an order he expects it to be done immediately.
>"WHAT HAPPENED! Speak Private!"
>With a slap to the head, Antonowin snaps back to somewhat normality.
>"W-we got ambushed. We were searching for supplies in the plains of Manehattan when they came. There were so many Equestrians. It was as if they were conjured out of thin air. We scattered and tried to regroup at the hideout, but that phantom legion was already there. The only one I saw was Lucia. She had the bag strapped around her waist, we tried to get away but...the unicorns. The whole sky was brightened by magic. Lucia she...Lucia oh why?! I had to leave her, or I would've- It's not my fault! It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's..."
>He keep repeating those words over and over, shaking back and forth.
"Sir what should we do?"
>"We can't risk sending out any more foraging parties, but if we just hunker down we'll starve."
"I mean about Pvt. Antonowin Sir."
>He continues to shake in the fetal position on the floor next to you two.
>"Take him to Dr. Uberto, hopefully he has something to get his nerves in check."
>Giving a salute you carry the shaking griffon to the Doctor.

>Cpl. Uberto de Meo is a strange case.
>He has two large scars over his right eye.
>A mud brown coat colored his body while his neck and head had a purplish-silver shine to it.
>You have convened with him once or twice, but never had any reason (or desire) to talk any more than what was necessary.
>Many of the things you know about him have been word to mouth from all the other soldiers.
>Though many accusations are obviously exaggerated or completely false, one thing you know for a fact to be true is that he has absolutely no medical experience.
>No one thought Uberto would make a good doctor, which is why he was rejected by every medical school from Griffenstone to Vanhoover.
>Imagine his surprise and delight when the war erupted.
>While rejected from the actual military medical staff, private militias (like the one you are in) allowed any lunatic with painkillers, a scalpel, and some bandages to call themselves medic.

>As you enter his tent, the sickening scent of incense and tobacco enter your nostrils.
>"Ah Sir Ishmael, how can this humble servant be of use to you?"
>As always he gives you the most crooked of smiles while smoke escapes his mouth.
"Hello Corporal, Pvt. Antonowin is in some really bad shape. Got anything to help calm him down?"
>"Like I said before, just call me Uberto. No need to be so formal around me."
"Yeah yeah. What you got?"
>His eccentric attitude always made you uneasy.
>"Bah no need to be so serious all the time. Hmmm Tak tak tak, let'e'me-think let'e'me-think."
>He puts a talon to his temple and ponders.
>"I believe I have just the thing!"
>He rifles through a pack and brings out a funny looking flower and a canteen of water.
>Taking a mortar and pestle, he crushes the plant into a powder.
>Poring the powder into the canteen he shakes it vigorously and gives it to you.
>"Make him drink all of it, but do it slowly. Taken too fast he might be out for days."
"What is it?"
>"Just a little trick I learned thanks to a Caspian trader from Saddle Arabia."
>Rolling your eyes you lay the exhausted griffon down and slowly pour the now marsh-green liquid down his throat.
>"If everything goes right, he should be up in a couple hours. Go ahead and go back to your post, I will keep watch on our dear scout."
>Hurriedly you exit and make your way back to your post.
"Why does our medic have to be the crazy one?"

>As you make it back, a fog rolls in blanketing the ground beneath the ledges of the cliff.
>It almost looks like a sea of clouds.
>Strange weather.
>That's what happens in war.
>While the able bodied pegasi and griffins fight, nature retakes control.
>"Heeey Melly!"
>Oh no.
>Like clockwork, Elizabeak swoops down out of nowhere
>"There you are, what happened to Anty?"
"Pvt. Antonio is in shock right now. Hopefully he'll get better unless our butcher mixed in the wrong herbs."
>"You mean Uberto? Isn't he just the great? He managed to get me some awesome green-tea leaves. They smell horrible, but I always get a good rest after havin' a cuppa."
>While she smiles gleefully you give a concerned glance back.
"Uh Liz, I don't think those are tea-leaves. What you described sounds more like-"
>Suddenly a scream echoes through the mountain range.
>The two of you look out into the fog below searching for any sign of distress.
>Immediately you both duck under your entrenchment.
>Pulling out a spyglass you try to peer out.
>"See anythin'?"
"No, fog's too thick."
>"I'm gonna go in and see what I can see."
"What? NO!"
>"Why not?"
"You hear a scream and the first thing you want to do is see what happened?"
>"Ya."
"No Liz. We have no visuals, best thing to do is just report it to Captain."
>"What if it's the rest of the scouting party? They could be in danger."
"That's not our concern. They knew the risk of flying out there."
>She pouts and looks right into your eyes.
>"I would search for you if you were somewhere out there."
>Turning away you grumble a bit.
*Sigh*
"That's why I'm not you."
>"Hmmph"
"Liz listen to me, anything could be in that fog. It is too dangerous."
>Her enthusiasm starts to wane.
"We are in a war Liz. Not everyone is going to come back."
>*Sigh* "I guess you're-"
>"AHHHHHHHHH!!!"

>A figure pops out of the fog.
>It tries to fly towards you both but falls back under leaving a small hole in the coverage.
>Elizabeak jumps from her spot and speeds towards the opening.
"LIZ, STOP! Dang it!"
>As she passes through gap, you dive also letting yourself be engulfed in the fog.
>It's freezing.
>Adjusting to the temperature you start hover to the ground.
>Now where did they go?
>Landing atop a tree you try to scan the area.
>No good, it's still too thick to see anything past forty feet.
"This is just perfect. What am I going to do now?"
>You hear something a good fifty yards away.
>Not sure what it is, but odds are it's your mystery figure.
>Getting closer the the source you see Elizabeak cradling a head in her arms.
>It was Erik!
"Erik you're alive! Antonowin said the others didn't-"
>"Shhhhhhhh. They might here us."
>Elizabeak has a worried look on her face while Erik gasped for air.
>You could see there were cuts and bruises all over his back.
>One of his talons is ripped out.
>His right arm is bleeding profusely.
>And there is even an arrow sticking through one of his wings.
>Erik turns to look at you.
>"Is that what that perfidy bounder said?"
>He lifts himself up and coughs some more.
>"Ishmael, listen up and listen good. Antonowin sold us out!"
"What are you talking about?"
>"Us. The whole camp! He made a deal with the Equestrians! They planted a tracking jewel on him, they have a full troop on the way with a mercenary pack of diamond-dogs stalking it down!"
"How long do we have?"
>"Not long, we need to find where he has that jewel and take it as far away as possible. Where is he now?"
"With Uberto."
>"Good, you can punch him as hard as you want since he's already in the medic tent. Hurry!"
"Alright, Liz stay here with Erik. Try to find a way to get him back to camp."

>With a fluster you sail yourself back to camp.
>Popping through the surface of the fog you see your Captain in the distance overseeing two griffons gathering a couple clouds.
"Sir! Sir!"
>