Loss Chapter 4

>Everything is black.
>You’re running as fast as you can, but you can’t see anything around you.
>You can feel the heat rising more and more.
>A light appears in the distance, and you make your way towards it.
>As you get closer, however, the heat only gets worse.
>You cough as the hot air burns your throat.
>You try to run away from the flames, but your feet won’t respond.
>A fiery claw winds its way up your body.
>It leaves a trail of charred and bubbling skin behind it.
>It reaches your face and grabs, digging its burning claws into your skin.
>You feel your eyes begin to liquefy from the heat.
>You open your mouth to scream, but nothing happens.
>Your whole body begins to turn to ash.
>The claw refuses to let go, even as the world fades.

>You wake up in a cold sweat.
>Everything is still dark, but the heat is gone.
>You try to open your eyes, but nothing happens.
>You seem to be lying on a bed.
>You sit up, leaning back on a pillow.
>At least your body is listening to you now, ignoring your rebellious eyes.
>You reach up to touch your face.
>“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
>You start; you hadn’t realized anyone was in here.
>That voice seems familiar though.
>“Your face is burnt pretty badly; I doubt poking and prodding your bandages would help much.”
>At least that explains why you can’t open your eyes.
>You sigh and lay back down.
“Where-”
>Oh son of a bitch.
>You feel your throat protest angrily at the attempt to speak.
>You close your mouth.
>Clearly talking isn’t an option right now.
>You hear footsteps come towards you.
>“Sit up again; I have some water.”
>You listen to the voice, hoping the water will help.
>You feel the cloth around your mouth get pulled down, and a cool glass touches your lip.
>It stings a little, but the water is refreshing.
>A couple seconds later, the water cuts off.
>Your throat begs for more, and you try to motion with your hands for her to bring it back.
>“You clearly never lived in a desert before. If you drink too much when you’re this thirsty you’ll just throw it back up.”
>A claw pokes you in the chest.
>You tense up a little as you remember your dream.
>The claw leaves a moment later.
>“Just get some rest, ok? I’ll give you more water when you wake up.”
>A moment passes, and then you hear them walk away.
>You fall asleep soon after.
>You just hope Greg is doing alright without you.

>Time passes, and eventually someone comes in and says you can take off your bandages.
>The familiar voice has stuck to their word, giving you water and food whenever you were awake.
>It drove you nuts that they wouldn’t let you drink or eat too much, but you weren’t an idiot.
>You knew they were right.
>Your stomach and throat simply disagreed with your brain.
>You’re nervous about taking off your bandages; the nightmares have been haunting you every time you fall asleep, and you aren’t eager to see the results of what Gareth did to you.
>It seemed no matter where you went, you were bound to be distrusted.
>Your face is sensitive to the air as the cloth unwinds from your face.
>Eventually it’s off, but you don’t want to open your eyes.
>You’d gotten used to the darkness, and even with your eyes closed, the light hurts.
>“Just open your eyes already; you can’t run from this.”
>That voice has been the one thing keeping you sane this past while.
>You admit you want to see the face to match the voice.
>You open your eyes a little.
>It’s daytime.
>The windows are covered by blinds, but it’s still far brighter than what you’ve been used to lately.
>You keep your eyes squinted, and look around.
>The room you’re in is small and plain.
>The floors are made of marble however, and the blinds for the window are a rich blue.
>You look to see the one that took your bandages off.
>It’s Don.
>You smile weakly at him.
>After a while in the hospital, you finally managed to talk; whatever medicine they were pumping into you, it made your throat feel considerably better over time.
>Still, your voice rasped when you spoke, like a long-time smoker.
“So you’re a doctor then?”
>Don shakes his head
>He looks concerned, but a smile touches his lips.
>“Still asking questions even now, Mr. Anonymous?”
"Seems that way. How long has it been?"
>"You came to the hospital over a week ago. You regained consciousness a few days after, but we kept the bandages on to be safe; medicine can only be do much."
>More than a week.
>That's lovely.
>At this point, you’re starting to get more used to the light.
>You look around, trying to spot the other griffon that your caretaker’s voice belongs to.
>In the far corner, you see… Gilda?
>You raise your eyebrow at her.
>You remember what Gareth said about telling anyone what happened.
>You guess Gilda was here to guard you.
>No one else is in the room.
>It seems your caretaker has left.
>“Mr. Anonymous, I know it may be too much for right now, but… would you like a mirror?”
>He sounds sad.
>Good to hear you have a lot to look forward to with this.
>You nod, even now not wanting to talk.
>He motions to Gilda, who pulls over a large mirror from the other side of the room.
>She takes a deep breath, and turns it towards you.
>You barely recognize the face.
>The skin is misshapen and red, even now.
>Long scars run across it.
>You thought you’d only been in that fire a few seconds; why did it burn you so much?
>You turn away.
>You were never terribly handsome; your face had never been something you were incredibly proud of.
>But at least you didn’t look like a freak.
>Until now.
>You hear scraping as the mirror gets dragged away.
>Don clears his throat.
>“Anon, how did this happen? Who did this to you?”
>That’s a loaded question.
>You can tell he already suspects Gareth.
>Gareth’s words come back to you.
>If you tell Don the truth, this city could fall apart.
>You don’t know the cities inhabitants well, but you have no reason to hate anyone but Gareth and his guards.
>As well, you couldn’t betray your fellow chemist, Arthur.
>The one person you’d met besides Greg who looked past your appearance right away.
>Not even your old friends in Ponyville had accepted you so fast.
>Some still hadn’t before your banishment.
>You’ve already been betrayed by your friends; you’ll be damned if you do it to your new ones, just for some petty revenge that will ultimately lead to your death.
>You look at Gilda for a moment.
>She’s looking everywhere but at you.
>You sigh, looking back to Don.
“I tripped and fell into a brazier like an idiot. I’m not used to the desert, and I let myself get dehydrated. One moment I was walking through the city, and the next I was falling towards flame.”
>Don looks at you for a moment.
>He doesn’t look like he believes you.
>You meet his gaze.
>After a moment he nods.
>“I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth or not, Mr. Anonymous, but do not fear for your safety with me. I will believe you for now, but do not hesitate to tell me anything more.”
>He shoots a glare at Gilda, and leaves the room.
>You sigh and lay back down, closing your eyes.
>You hear Gilda walk over to you.
>You look to see she’s holding a glass of water.
>“Thirsty?”
>You look at her for a moment.
>There’s no denying it then.
>That’s the voice.
“…So you’re the one who’s been taking care of me this whole time?”
>Gilda pulls back for a second, and places the glass on the bedside table
>“Yeah, what about it?”
“Oh, nothing. I just figured you’d be happier seeing me suffer.”
>Her eyes narrow at that
>“I’m not a monster, Ape.”
>You glare at her.
>You feel a little queasy just at the thought of Gilda being in the room all time, feeding you.
>“Not a monster? You could’ve fooled me. I’m assuming Gareth ordered you to make sure I didn’t die, so that Don wouldn’t accuse him of throwing me into a fire!”
>You’re trying to keep cool, but you can feel your blood boiling a little. You can tell your voice is starting to rise.
>You may not be confessing to what they did to you, but you weren’t doing it for them.
>They could burn for all you care.
>In fact, that would be fitting.
>Gilda pauses, walking to the door.
>She pokes her head out and then closes it, turning back to you.
>She’s returning your glare now, full force.
>“I’ll have you know I stayed here directly against my father’s orders! But it’s good to see you appreciate my help so much”
“Father? So you really are that bastard’s daughter. Why should I believe you have any kind of compassion in you? You watched me burn, just like the rest!”
>Gilda is fuming now; she takes a step towards you but stops.
>She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths.
>After a moment she opens her eyes again.
>She’s no longer glaring; instead, her eyes are cold.
>When she talks again, her voice is quiet but firm.
>“You do not understand the burden my father carries. What he did may not have been right; there may have been another way. But I won’t have you insulting him for doing all that he can to ensure our people’s safety!”
>You meet her gaze for a while.
>You’re still angry; there’s no way you’ll forgive Gareth.
>If Greg had been with you when you’d left that morning, you’d both be dead by this point.
>But you remember Gilda’s face when you were being pinned to the ground.
>You remember how sad she looked.
>You don’t know if she had wanted this or not; the day before it happened, she’d been threatening to kill you, just like Gareth.
>But she’d also cared for you after you were burned.
>Perhaps she didn’t have her father’s cruelty in her. Maybe she simply wanted to gain your trust right now. Either way, you couldn’t be sure.
>You sigh, shaking your head.
“I know I’ll never forgive Gareth for this. I feel hot just thinking about it. But you… you just followed orders. From your boss, and your father. I don’t trust you, but I don’t blame you for this either.”
>You look at her; her eyes aren’t cold anymore.
>They’re sad.
>You motion for her to come closer.
>She hesitates, but walks over to the side your bed.
>You lean over and pat her on the back.
>“Thank you for taking care of me, Gilda.”
>You see her lip tug upwards.
>She turns away a moment later, heading back to the other side of the room.
>“Whatever, ape. I think you can drink your own water now though.”
>She looks back at you.
>“You’re going to need to take care of yourself if you want to leave here anytime soon.”
>You smile, and she turns back away, poking her head through the blinds.
>You pick up your glass and drink from it.
>It feels good, but you don’t drink too much.
>You lay your head down, and quickly fall asleep.

>A few days later, and you’re given the go ahead to leave the hospital.
>Well, more that Gilda argued fiercely that you were fine, and the sooner you were out the better.
>After a couple days of this, they gave in, telling you to come back at any time if you needed medication or if the burn started acting up.
>You’re walking back home with Gilda.
>You told her you’d be fine, but she said she’d escort you anyways.
>You tried not to laugh at the other meaning for ‘escort’, but you don’t think they’d get that here.
>You just hope Greg is transformed into something or hidden…
>There’s only room in the house, so you really hope for the former.
>You stop on the way back, buying some kind of… hat-turban-mask thing.
>It essentially covers your head and from your neck to your nose
>Only your eyes are visible, essentially.
>Gilda paid for it, muttering something about it was the least she could do.
>Even bloodthirsty griffon warriors have their honorable sides, apparently.
>You’re glad to have it; you drew enough attention, you didn’t need a boost.
>You reach your front door as the sun is setting.
>You stomp your feet loudly outside the door.
>“What’re you doing?”
“I don’t want to track dirt into the house, so I’m stomping some of it off.”
>You open the door.
>The house is covered in dirt.
>You suddenly wish you’d thought of a more clever way of warning Greg.
>Gilda gives you a “you’re a moron” look and walks inside.
>Well that’s one problem out of the way.
>Now for problem two.
>You look around for a moment, trying to spot Greg.
>His chair form is still sitting in the corner.
“Thank god…” you mutter under your breath.
>“What was that?”
“Nothing, just good to be home.”
>Crisis averted.
>Gilda walks over to you, looking disdainfully at the mat and Greg-chair.
>“This is the house Abban gave you? Not exactly generous.”
>You smile.
“It’s not exactly massive, I know, but it’s somewhere to sleep. I’ll take it over the street or a cave.”
>“Or a hospital room?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
>Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the chair bulge.
>Uh oh.
>What’s Greg doing?
>Crisis no longer averted.
“Well, thanks for escorting me home, Gilda! I’m really beat though, thinking I’ll go right to sleep, you’d better head home before it’s too late!”
>Gilda looks at you.
>Her eyes narrow.
>You attempt a disarming smile.
>You wince as your lips tug at one of your scars.
>Still not one hundred percent, it seems.
>Gilda winces with you, and her eyes grow sad.
>Dammit.
“I’ll be fine, Gilda. Go home.”
>“Fine, but don’t do anything stupid. I know that’s hard for you, but I like to think you can do so for at least a day.”
>You open the door for her as she walks out, causing her to shoot you a small glare.
>Right, chivalry isn’t really customary for griffons.
>You didn’t really expect equal gender rights in a city that separates it’s people into three major sections, but you’ve been wrong before.
>You lift your hands above your head as she leaves.
>The glare turns into a small smile as you close the door.
>You listen for a moment as her steps fade away.
>When you can’t hear her anymore, you let go a breath.
>Ok, now the crisis is diverted.
“Already Greg, you can turn back now.”
>“YOU WERE IN A HOSPITAL?!”
>The chair in the corner bursts into Greg’s normal changeling form, and he’s in the air.
>Holy crap he’s loud.
“Shhhhhh! Greg, Gilda literally just left, and you’re yelling! Calm down!”
>Greg pauses for a moment, before floating down to the ground.
>You can see tears in his eyes.
>Oh bugger.
>You kneel down, motioning Greg over.
“Sorry, Greg. I appreciate the concern. Just… keep it low volume, alright?”
>Greg nods, sniffling.
>He flies over, landing by your feet.
>“What happened to you, Anon? Why’s your voice so rough?”
>You pat him on the head.
“Long story, pal. I’m sorry I was gone so long, though. Were you alright?”
>“Yeah, changelings don’t really need food, and I lived off almost no love before you came along anyways, so I was fine. Just bored.”
>You smile at him.
>“Well, let’s settle down for the night. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning, since it’s not exactly a happy story to tell before you sleep.”
>You lay on the mat, picking up the blanket and getting it ready
>“Oh, Anon! Use that blanket as a pillow, alright?”
>Greg is smiling at you.
>You shrug, and fold the blanket a few times, putting it down at the head of the mat.
>Or the foot, it really makes no difference.
>“Now lie down!”
>You listen, lying down.
>You keep your mask on for now; you’ll show him tomorrow.
>No need to give him nightmare fuel.
>Greg lifts off, hovering just over you.
>He shifts a little, and suddenly a thick blanket is on top of you.
>“Like it, Anon? I thought about it while you were gone! This way, we can both be warm, and you get a pillow!”
>You smile.
>You want to pat his head, but you aren’t really sure where it is.
>You settle for just telling him he’s clever.
>You also ignore the fact that he can talk while an inanimate object.
>He’d done it before, it still just baffled you.
>The blanket didn’t vibrate or anything to make a noise.
>God damned magic.
>You and Greg fall asleep soon afterwards.
>For the first time in a while, you have no nightmares.

>The next day, you head over to Arthur’s shop.
>After Greg calmed down from your story, of course.
>He took the shape of a pen this time; he was too upset from your story to want to see the city, but he also didn’t want to be left alone.
>He’s still in your pocket now, though you aren’t sure if he’s awake or not.
>You knock on the apothecary door before walking in.
>Arthur is behind a counter, looking over some papers.
>He looks up as you walk in.
>“Ah, you’re back! How have you been, Anon?”
>You smile.
>You know he can’t see it, but he smiles at you regardless.
“I haven’t been great, but things seem better now at least. So what’re you doing?”
>“Oh, nothing really. So what brings you back? When you didn’t come back, I suspected you had decided to leave.”
>You pick up a random empty vial and twirl it around your hand.
“I was wondering if that job offer still stood?”
>You spend the rest of the morning ironing out exactly what you were going to do at Arthur’s lab.
>You were essentially his assistant; you helped with some of his experiments, and did a lot of the cashier work.
>Afterwards though, he gave you free reign with the lab in the back.
>The lab put your one back in Ponyville to shame.
>Essentially, you could use any of the chemicals in the shop; you just had to make an account for which ones you used.
>When he paid you, he’d take up to 50% of the bits to help pay off what you owed.
>So essentially if you used too much, you’d be working for half pay for a while.
>You were perfectly OK with this.
>You're in the front area of the shop right now, looking at the chemicals.
>All the materials for a lot of your old formulas are here; the magic-automated camera, the stink formula, even the flying rings.
>Of course, what would be the fun of remaking what you already know? You want to experiment.
>You find your eyes consistently drifting back to the liquid magic.
>You don't know any of its properties, but you know its potent.
>If you could make formulas that seemed magical with only chemicals, imagine what you could do if you combined those chemicals with a condensed form of magic?
>You sigh; you'll have to make do with 50% pay for a while.
>You pick up an empty test tube and the beaker of liquid magic.
>You tilt the beaker slightly, getting your head around its negative gravity.
>Holding the test tube over the beaker, you poor a tiny amount in.
>Eyeballing it, you guess it's around two milliliters.
>You grab a few other chemicals and head into the lab.
>Time for some chemistry.

>This liquid magic...
>It far surpasses anything you could've expected.
>The only problem is, you don't have enough of it.
>You burned through your first sample, and you didn't want to take so much so soon.
>Even then, with what you've seen...
>You'd need more than that beaker.
>A lot more.
>You walk back into the shop.
>Arthur is looking over the same papers.
>He looks up at you as you approach.
"Hey, Arthur. Do you mind if I ask you something?"
>He smiles at you and nods.
>"Go ahead, Anon. What's bothering you?"
>You scratch the back of your head nervously; no need to beat around the bush."
"You mentioned that liquid magic was hard to come by... how does one make it?"
>Arthur smiles.
>"I should've known that's the first thing you'd try and tinker with. Not many can resist the allure of 'liquid magic', hmmm?"
>You grin.
>"I'm afraid I don't know."
>Your grin vanishes.
>Arthur laughs.
>"Sorry to burst your bubble there, Anon, but I didn't make this myself. It was given to me."
"Given? But I thought you said it was incredibly rare?"
>"It is. Which is why Don, chief of the Research Corps, gave it to all the well known scientists, in the hopes that one of us would discover its mysteries. I just use it as a centerpiece to draw in customers."
>You stare at him, incredulous.
"Why wouldn't you want to research it yourself?"
>"I've never been a fan of magic. I prefer things to be ground in science, and I just knew the tangible form of something intangible would muddy the waters of understanding. From what I understand, none of the other scientists given it found out much."
>Well that puts a wrench in your plans.
>If Don didn't even tell the trusted chemists he gave the liquid magic to how he made it, what were the odds he'd tell you?
>You sigh, resigning yourself to the half pay you'll suffer for your curiosity.

>It's been a few days since you started working with Arthur.
>Despite the initial letdown of liquid magic, you were still enjoying exploring the new chemicals that could actually be replaced.
>Lin in particular was fascinating.
>...
>You don't think you'd ever get used to that name.
>The elements Earth, Equestria and the Wastes shared tended to have very scientific sounding names.
>Oxygen.
>Potassium.
>Uranium.
>And the chemicals that were only here tended to have a mix of scientific and magical ones.
>Enevera.
>Tyrania.
>But Lin?
>You'd asked Arthur, but he'd just laughed and said it was the name of who had found it.
>Well, despite its dubious name, it was quite extraordinary.
>It was odorless, tasteless, and clear; it had very little qualities of its own.
>However, when mixed with another chemical, it made that chemicals properties more potent.
>Essentially an enhancer of a sort.
>It sounds somewhat boring when you think about it, but when you mix it with others, it's truly a wonder to see.
>Of course, you had to be careful. You'd nearly dropped a piece of Potassium into a vial of it before you came to your senses.
>You wouldn't have had to worry about a burnt face from that, you suspect.
>More likely, your head would simply not be there.
>Nor the majority of your torso.
>You're mulling about in the front section of the apothecary when you hear the door open and shut.
>Ah yes, a break from inventory; always welcome.
>You look up to see Gilda.
>The two of you freeze, staring at each other for a moment.
>She gives you an awkward smile.
>You scowl at her.
>She glares back.
>You hear a cough, and see Arthur glaring at you.
>You nod at him and force a smile at Gilda.
>She keeps glaring.
>Dammit.
>Arthur speaks up, breaking the silence.
>"So, Gilda, here for the usual? I'll go grab it from the back."
>Gilda stops glaring at you to nod at Arthur and smile at him.
>As Arthur leaves the room, she looks back.
>"What are you doing here, Ape?"
>She's not quite glaring, but she doesn't look terribly happy.
"I work here. And what about you? I don't see you as a chemist type. More the smashing your head against a wall type, really."
>Ahhh, there's the glare.
>"Would you stop being so pissy and hostile?"
>You laugh, but there's no humor in it.
"I'm being hostile? At least I have the decency to call you your name, Gilda."
>You put as much venom into her name as you can muster.
"Not to mention, I haven't led you to any alleyways and had you maimed either."
>Her eyes flare for a moment, but she stops herself from saying anything else.
>She closes her eyes and breathes deeply.
>You wonder who taught her that technique; she uses it a lot.
>She speaks again a moment later, her eyes still closed.
>"I said I was sorry... Anon. I know that isn't enough for you to trust me, or any griffon besides Arthur it seems."
>She opens her eyes and looks at you.
>Either she's a great actor, or those eyes are genuinely sad.
>"But what exactly do you expect me to do? I can't change the past."
>You sigh and lean back on the counter.
>You don't like this.
>Part of you wanted to trust her; part of you thought she was truly sorry about what had happened to you.
>Unfortunately for her, a much stronger part of you only saw Gareth behind those sad eyes.
>A fanatical, insane monster who nearly killed you.
>You look at her one more time.
"...You want to start making up for this?"
>You take off your mask and gesture at the scars.
"Give me a reason to trust you. Make me believe you really trust me. Don, your fathers partner, should know how to make liquid magic. Chances are, he's written it down somewhere secret too. Find me information on how to make it, and maybe then I can see myself starting to trust you. Maybe."
>Gilda looks at you for a moment.
>She sighs a moment later.
>"It's risky, but fine. Tell me this though; why do you want to know how to make it?"
>You smile at her, and pull your mask back into place.
"One thing you should know about humans, Gilda: we're curious."

>A couple of days later, Gilda enters the store again.
>She looks tired, but there's triumph in her eyes.
>She's holding a parchment in her beak.
>She walks over to you and drops it on the table beside you.
>"You better appreciate this. If I'd been caught..."
>You nod at her before picking it up.
>She leaves a moment later, leaving you alone.
>You look at the parchment.
>You open it up and read the contents.
>You smile.
>You're back in business.

>A few weeks later, you're wandering around the bazaar again.
>You aren't really doing much; it’s just nice to walk around.
>“Hey, ape! Wait up!”
>That probably means you...
>You turn around, to see Gilda and Ron walking towards you.
“The name is Anon, Ron.”
>“But Ape just sounds so much more cosy, you know?”
>You have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.
>You nod anyways.
>“Sure, Ron. I’ve been called worse, I suppose.”
>Ron smiles at you.
>“So! Since you’re here anyways, do you want to grab something to eat with Gilda and I?”
>What.
>Did he just ask you what you think he did?
>Gilda looks at Ron, a look of shock on her face.
>Apparently she didn’t expect this either.
“Uh, I don’t know about that…”
>Your stomach growls in protest.
>You hope they didn’t hear that.
>Ron pauses for a moment, and then grins wickedly.
>“Sounds like your stomach disagrees with you!”
>Dammit.
“Well, that may be the case, but I don’t really have any money right now, so I don’t think I can afford to.”
>Gilda punches you in the arm.
>“Just come, Anon. Ron won’t shut up otherwise, and I’m not dealing with that.”
>You shoot her your best withering glare, but she’s already turned and begun walking away.
>Ron stares at you.
>You swear you see his eyes twinkle.
>…God Dammit.
“Fine, but you’re paying.”
>Ron smiles again, and heads off after Gilda.
>You sigh and walk after them.
>At least you’ll get a free meal out of it.

>“So what’s with the mask, Ape?”
>You freeze, and see Gilda do the same.
>You look at Ron.
>He’s smiling at you, but you don’t see anything malicious in it.
 “…Just a little mishap, Ron. Nothing important.”
>Ron smiles and nods.
>He turns back to Gilda, striking up a conversation.
>You don’t hear him though.
>So Ron doesn’t know.
>More importantly, that means Gareth didn’t tell him, meaning he probably didn’t tell many of his own people.
>You stow away that information for later as your food arrives.
>Your mouth waters as something so simple is placed in front of you.
>A sandwich.
>With meat.
>Glorious, glorious meat.
>No matter how much you thought you’d convinced yourself being a vegetarian was fine, your carnivorous side was always there.
>And now, it would finally be content.
>You pull down the lower part of your mask, and take a bite.
>You hear Ron whistle.
>“Some accident there, Ape.”
>You ignore him.
>Meat first, then the meathead.
>You hear a smacking sound.
>Ok, now you should probably pay attention.
>Ron is rubbing his shoulder and looking at Gilda.
>She’s glaring at him.
>Huh.
>Did she just hit him for you?
>Gilda notices you looking, and looks away, focusing on her food.
>You shrug, and smile at Ron.
>He sticks his tongue out at you and begins to eat as well.
>Back to sandwich.
>The first bite almost brings tears to your eyes; god you’ve missed this.
>The meat is chewy, but juicy at the same time.
>You take your time chewing, savoring the taste.
>You take a deep breath, and your smile widens.
>After a small break, you devour the rest of the sandwich.
>No time for more savoring; you’ve missed this far too much.
>Ron gives you a funny look as you essentially shove it down your throat.
>Gilda ignores you.
>You lean back when you finish, and pull your mask back into place.
>You haven’t felt so good in a long time.
>Gilda finishes soon after, and the two of you wait for Ron.
>You know you ate fast, but man he’s slow.
>By the time he finishes, you were starting to suspect if he was doing it on purpose.
>“Ahhh, that hit the spot. You two really need to learn to savor things in life.”
>You smile, despite the fact he can’t see it.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Ron.”
>The three of you head out soon after.
>You nod at them.
“Thanks for the meal. I guess I’ll see you later?”
>You start heading off, but you feel a claw grab your shoulder.
>You turn sharply, to see Ron pull back and smile slightly.
>“Ah, sorry about startling you there. I just figured, hey, why don’t you meet Gilda and me by the east gate tomorrow morning? We were going to go flying for a bit, you can tag along as well.”
>What.
>This griffon.
>You stare at him for a moment, but before you can recover Gilda walks over and punches him in the head.
>“Ron, we were going to practice tomorrow!”
>She fades off at the end, but you think you hear something about not wanting an audience.
>“Not to mention he can’t fly! He’d just be bored.”
>You smile wickedly.
>You’re suddenly glad for the mask for once.
“Well Ron, that sounds fun! The east gate tomorrow morning then?”
>Ron beams at you.
>Gilda glares.
>You pull down your mask and give them both a big grin.

>You meet Gilda and Ron the next morning soon after the sun rises.
>Greg has turned into a belt so he can watch.
>He was actually pretty excited about this; he may not trust the griffons, but apparently he really wanted to see them fly.
>Something about them being famous for their speed.
>The three of you walk outside into the wastes.
>The desert morning is still cool, but you know that’ll change soon.
>Gilda and Ron take off into the air.
>They hover for a bit, before beginning.
>They fly around each other, going through a fairly simple pattern, though not one you’ve seen before.
>At least, you don’t think you have.
>They start of slow, but soon pick up the pace.
>Soon, they’re getting fast enough to begin to blur again.
>It’s at this point Ron begins to fall behind.
>He skillfully pulls out, leaving Gilda alone.
>She keeps accelerating though, doing her best to maintain the pattern with Ron no longer there.
>You realize the blur behind her was actually catching up with itself, and is creating some kind of symbol.
>Before you can figure out what it is, Gilda veers off.
>She flails around a bit before regaining control, but the afterimage is gone.
>Still, that was impressive.
>She was approaching Rainbow Dash levels of speed near the end.
>...
>Bad train of thought.
>They’re fairly high up in the air, but you think you see Gilda breathing deeply.
>Not that you blame her; she had to have been keeping that speed and control up for a good few minutes.
>After a moment, you see Gilda nod, and they begin again, starting off at a slow speed.
>You’re suitably impressed; you’d come out here to make Gilda uncomfortable, but now you’re glad you came for another reason.

>They keep it up for another half hour or so.
>They land in front of you.
>You pull off your mask and smile.
>“That was some pretty awesome flying there, you two. What’re you training for, anyways?”
>Ron beams, but Gilda simply huffs and looks away.
>Ron ignores her and answers.
>“They’re going to be picking the representatives for the Hoof and Beak Flight Tournament soon, and Gilda wants to make it in!”
>You raise an eyebrow; you’ve never heard of this before.
>Ron’s eyes widen.
>“You don’t know about it? I thought you said you lived in Equestria before you came here!”
“I was only there for a year, Ron; I don’t know every single thing about them.”
>“That’s no excuse! Every thirteen years, the griffons and the ponies gather in Equestria to have a competition to see who the best flyer is! It’s awesome!”
>You stare at him for a bit.
“…Why?”
>“Oh, some kind of war peace treaty thing, nothing important, who cares! It’s fun!”
>You smile at him; it’s hard to believe this is the same griffon that looked so bored the first time you saw him.
>Gilda cuts in.
>“Well it doesn’t matter if I don’t get chosen, so I have to train as hard as I can for this! My father expects me to make it in!”
>You try to keep the scowl off your face at the mention of Gareth.
>You fail.
>Ron gives you a puzzled look, but Gilda simply glares at you.
>She walks past you, giving you a small shove.
>“Come on, Ron. We’re on guard duty soon, no time to waste.”
>Ron watches her for a moment, before shrugging at you and jogging after her.
>You sigh, and walk after them.
>Either you’re going to have to wear your mask a lot more, or practice controlling your face.

>You’re waiting by the east gate.
>Greg isn’t with you today; he’d gotten over his usual excitement after a while.
>You’re starting to think it might’ve gone into you instead.
>It’s been a couple of weeks since you started coming out to watch Gilda and Ron fly.
>It had been harder and harder for you to resist giving out pointers.
>Luckily, Gilda seemed to fix the things you wanted to point out in time.
>She was a natural, you had to admit.
>You look up to see how high the sun is.
>You guess it’s around seven am at this point; what’s taking them so long?
>Oh no.
>They had mentioned that they’d be picking the contestants soon; what if Gilda hadn’t been chosen?
>You begin to pace back and forth; you hadn’t really considered the idea of her not making it.
>Before you can start spiraling into a nervous breakdown, you look up to see Ron and Gilda.
>You spot something rare.
>Gilda is smiling.
>They walk up to you and Ron beams bigger than he ever has before.
>“Guess who’s competing in the next Hoof and Beak Tournament?!”
>Oh thank god.
>You pull of your mask to return Ron’s smile.
>You then step forward and pull Gilda into a hug.
>“W-what the hell are you doing, Anon?”
>She punches you in the head, and you let go.
“Er, sorry Gilda. I started worrying that you guys were late because you hadn’t made it, and so I was just feeling relieved. My bad”
>Gilda looks at you, a surprised look on her face.
>She recovers a moment later, switching to her usual scowl.
>Her eyes maintain her earlier smile though.
>“Whatever, just forget it. Let’s go.”

>The three of you are sitting outside the gates, relaxing.
>Ron managed to convince Gilda to take a break from practice for once, and you had no objections, and so you were just talking.
>“I’m going to have to practice even more from now on; all the best fliers are going to be there, including The Wonderbolts!”
>You and Ron sigh.
>He may have gotten her to stop practicing, but that didn’t mean she was going to get it out of her mind, either.
>Gilda scowls at both of you, making Ron laugh.
>“Oh shut up, you didn’t see the last tournament. The fliers are the highest class; it’s one thing to qualify, another thing to actually do well!”
>She looks at the ground.
>“Not to mention, what if Rainbow Dash makes it in as well?”
>Your smile falters at the name.
>Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out [spoiler]“You know Rainbow Dash?”[/spoilers]
>Uh oh.
>You’ve never really talked about your time in Equestria.
>Ron had asked, but you’d dodged the question enough times that he got it.
>Gilda lifts her head and looks at you.
>“Uh, yeah. Do you?”
“…No.”
>Gilda stands up.
>You’re still sitting down, so she looms over you.
>She’s glaring at you.
>You sigh.
>You don’t have any reason to lie to her now.
“…Dammit. Yeah, I know Rainbow Dash.”
>Gilda continues to stare.
 >You can’t read her eyes; there’s some anger, but also sadness.
>After a moment, she sits back down, her eyes on the ground.
>She takes a few deep breaths.
>You don’t interrupt her.
>She regains composure a moment later.
>She looks back up, the look in her eyes gone.
>“How do you know her?”
“We’re friends. Well, we were.”
>Ron shuffles forward.
>“Oh? And?”
>You scowl at him, but it doesn’t faze him.
>Dammit.
“I helped train her flying.”
>You hear Gilda breathe in sharply.
>She’s back on her feet.
>“What?! How could some flightless monkey teach Rainbow Dash of all pegasi how to fly better?”
>She’s managed to shove her face right into hers.
>This close, the resemblance to Gareth is harder to ignore.
>You lift your hands behind your back and stand up, backing away.
“Whoa, you don’t have to believe me! It won’t make it any less true.”
>Gilda squeezes her eyes shut.
>You can hear her breathing deeply again.
“Tell me… how good was she?”
>You pause.
>You don’t want to tell her the truth, but lying won’t help her.
“She’s… probably the best flier I’ve ever seen. I made an obstacle course that was supposed to be almost impossible, in order to train her control in the air. She beat it within a few months; just before I was banished.”
>Gilda slumps down to the ground.
>Ron looks at her sadly.
>You aren’t sure what to say.
>You suddenly wish you had just lied to her; or at least held back some of the truth.
>Gilda stands up suddenly.
>The defeated look has left her already, replaced with one of determination.
>Her shoulders are set.
“My father said that you were banished a couple of days before you came to our city. If what you’re saying is true, then that means Rainbow Dash only finished your training about a month ago.”
>You nod.
>Gilda takes a deep breath.
>“Will you train me?”
>Ron looks at Gilda in shock.
>She ignores him, her eyes focused on you.
>You think about the past two weeks.
>You know Gilda had talent.
>She may be behind where Rainbow Dash was a month ago, but you’d only trained Rainbow Dash for a few months.
>You can easily get Gilda to that same level in two years; if Gilda is capable, she might even be able to surpass Rainbow Dash.
>You imagine two fliers of that level competing.
>You can’t; you’d have to see it for yourself
>You smile at Gilda and stick out your hand.
>She smiles back, and grabs your hand.
>For once, you don’t wince at claws grabbing you.
“I’ll do it.”