Reflection Twelve: Reaching Forever Higher

“You've come a long way from the runny-nosed and scruffy kid I knew...”

We didn't talk much about the whole ordeal after that. It was an ugly experience for all of us, and we didn't want to remember it. Canterlot's psychiatric ward was crammed for weeks after that. In the end, what we all believed was that the less said about it, the better. That was how we felt about it. Out of sight, out of mind. I guess... I guess that's how we liked to deal with problems back then. The Mumei, The Mare in the Moon, Discord, those... yet unnamed enemies of Equestria, and now the changeling invasion of Canterlot. And how I was... able to kill so easily without anything hanging on my conscience.

The storyteller made a carefree sweeping motion with his hoof.

Pushed away just like that. Lost to time.

He paused for a moment, mouth open as if to say something but then switching tracks.

You see that happening a lot in history. People forget. It's a fact of life. Save for those with the greatest gifts and the greatest curses, no matter how set in stone, no matter how monumental something is, it will erode and be lost amidst the sands of time. Nothing is sacred. Maybe that's another reason why I'm telling this story and why I told it back in Stalliongrad forty years ago. We need to remember. As hard, as painful as it is sometimes- I know- we have to remember.

He looked disgusted and looked away.

Ugh, dammit. Now I'm starting to talk like him.

The old unicorn breathed out a soft sigh and turned back to the audience.

The mementos for this segment won't just be tangible ones. They'll be word of mouth. After all, I did learn a very important and very... intriguing graduation requirement for equinpology majors.

* * *

“Field research?” I blinked in confusion at Professor Egan. Both fully recuperated from the changeling invasion just a month ago, we were in his office. A little suite tucked away in the department buildings, he still furnished it with a collection of books, tarps, ornaments, headdresses, and all sorts of interesting trinkets I only partially recognized from my studies.

“That's right,” the mule said with a nod. “Field research. I know it's a tough requirement for an often shunned major, but it's been there since its inception. The department doesn't expect a book, but a quality term paper will do just fine. Thesis, evidence, arguments, the whole shebang.”

“Any ideas on where to start?” I asked. “This is... kinda a big thing, you know, visiting a different equine species, even a different country.”

“My advice?” He set down a few books on his desk, sliding them over to me. “Start with griffins.”

* * *

“Field research, huh?” Hummingbird asked as we strolled briskly down the walkway to one of Canterlot's many concert halls. Thankfully, it was a casual evening affair, so we weren't too out-of-place heading there with me only in my hat and saddlebags and Hummingbird in her layers of jackets and sweatshirts. Good thing, too- we were cutting it close on time.

“Yeah, it's a graduation requirement,” I said with a nod. I let out a soft sigh. “Sorry.”

“About what?” she asked incredulously as I mouthed over our ticket stubs over the counter. It really sucked having a magical burnout when you relied on it so much to do everyday tasks.

“It's kind of an inconvenience, isn't it?” I muttered as he headed down the aisles in search of our row. “It's probably going to take at least a week, closer to a month to get enough for a thesis. I know I'm not writing a book or anything, but...”

She tapped my nose with one of her primaries, causing me to scrunch up my muzzle. “You don't have to go alone, do you?”

“Well... no...” I scratched the back of my head as we shuffled and shimmied our way to our seats. “You actually want to go with me?”

“Of course,” she said with a chuckle, leaning her head against my shoulder. “I'd miss my favorite pillow.”

I smiled at her as the orchestra began to tune their instruments. “And I my favorite blanket.”

Admittedly, I never listened to a lot of orchestral music in my time in Manehattan. Most of it was when... Song Spinner was doing her concerts in Central Park to raise awareness for Prop Four. To attend a concert such as this and listen to an orchestra of professionals at work was something completely new to me. It takes a lot of skill and teamwork to perform like that. I have to respect them. The concertmaster, section leaders, and ultimately the conductor have to keep everypony in line. The musicians themselves have to control their volume so that they don't stand out unusually above the others. It was something I appreciated.

The music itself... well, it's an acquired taste. You definitely have to get used to it. I had to get used to it, at least. I admittedly nodded off a few times and earned myself a few mindful taps from Hummingbird. Of course, as you might guess, I'd soon enough be acquiring that taste.

Still, I was happy to be with Hummingbird- happier still that we put the events of the changeling invasion behind us. And she was going to come along with me to Aldorna.

Everything was going just fine.

* * *

“What do you mean she can't come with me?” I asked in confusion.

“She can't come with you to Aldorna,” Doctor Muffin Top repeated. The physical therapist was a smallish earth pony mare with a brown coat and a tan mane and tail. From the way they puffed out, I could see how she got her name. We were meeting in her office- by we, I mean Hummingbird and I- at Canterlot General Hospital.

“But why?” I asked, looking to the green mare sitting beside me. She had a look of dread, as if she already knew the answer.

“Because her immune system is so compromised,” Muffin Top sighed, forming a steeple with her forehooves as she leaned forward against her desk. “Let me put it simply. Her body will either reject the required shots, or it will just plain become a full-blown infection. I'm sorry, but my recommendation is that she not leave Equestria's borders. It's just too much risk without proper immunization.”

Hummingbird and I looked at one another, exchanging crestfallen looks.

* * *

“Duuuuude, that suuuuuucks...”

“Don't I know it.” Sigh. “I know it's for her health and safety, but this is going to be the first time I'm going to be away from her.”

“Yeah, that's tough. Longest I've been away from Namira was like... a week at most. Sorry to hear about all that, buck.”

“Thanks, Zoleks. But... any advice? You know, something to help?”

“Advice? You're coming to me for advice? You have any idea what my face looks like right now?”

A soft chuckle. “I can guess.”

“Well, jeez... I dunno, you're gonna be away for a long time, but you both have phones, right?”

“... uh, well, I do.”

“Tell you what- you're doing this during the summer, right? How 'bout you have Hummingbird hang with us? She gets a place to stay plus friends she knows. You still have my number, and you two could talk anytime.”

“You'd do that for me?”

“You got it, boss.”

Sigh. “Thought you were gonna stop calling me that...”

“Sorry, just... just kinda... remembering, ya know? What's the word for it?”

“Nostalgia?”

“Well, that kinda makes me think of remembering something good. Never mind. I can do that for the both of you, no problem.”

“... thank you, Zoleks. I... honestly don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you.”

“Heh... hey, by the way, how'd your hat taste?”

“... shut up.”

* * *

Intermission at another concert. Hummingbird and I were walking around the lobby, stretching our legs before the next performance.

“That earth pony mare, Octavia?” she spoke up excitedly. “I thought she was amazing during the solo. I've never seen earth ponies play an instrument with that level of skill before. Heard she has a bit of a rivalry with that one lyre player though. What was her name again?”

“Lyra Heartstrings, dear,” I said to her with a soft smile. She was so cute when she got all hyped up about something.

“Lyra!” The green pegasus mare smacked her forehead with her wing. Cutely. “Duh, how could I forget a name like that?”

“You really love these concerts, don't you?” I huffed.

“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “Thanks for taking me here again, by the way. I know they're not your thing.”

“Heh... you already know what I'd do for... you...” I grimaced and she looked away as the ugly memories came back. I changed the subject. “So, you seem pretty interested in the strings section, huh?”

“Yeah, it's just...” Hummingbird looked away and scuffed her hoof against the floor, searching for words, “I always found them to be the most dynamic part of the orchestra.”

“Heh, you sure that doesn't go to the brass?” I chuckled.

“Dynamic isn't the same as loud, you uncultured Manehattaner,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me and smacking the back of my head with a wing. “When I say dynamic, I mean the most fluid. You can bend notes, even do these sort of... stuttering thing. Vibratto, I think that's what it's called?”

“You have experience in the matter?” I inquired.

“Sorta,” she answered. “My... dad was into the guitar.”

“Ah... say, what's... up with your parents, anyway? How come they're not looking after you?”

“How come other homeless ponies' parents aren't looking after them?” Hummingbird asked right back.

I sighed softly, “Okay, but what about yours?”

She just shrugged. “They already had enough to worry about during the recession before things started winding down for me. I don't know about now, okay?”

“... so... guitar?” I tried changing the subject again.

“Yeah, my dad was, uh, into that,” she said. “Even tried to get me to play it, but... just wasn't my thing. Maybe something else.”

I smirked at her. “Are you implying you'd like to learn something else?”

“Maybe, I-I dunno,” Hummingbird sighed, scratching the back of her head.

“Well you have plenty of free time, don't you?” I asked, bumping my flank against hers, causing her to stagger a little.

The green mare pouted, “Hey! Not in public, you!” She sighed again. “Look, I don't know. If anything, it'd have to be light for weak ol' me.”

“Well hey, at least you can actually push a terminal around,” I nickered.

She blinked. “... oh wow, that was so long ago.”

“Eidetic memory,” I said with grin. “Anyway, just something to think about, alright?”

* * *

“Omigosh omigosh!” Hummingbird flustered excitedly, forelegs and wings flapping wildly. “I-I thought you said you just said it was something to think about!”

“I lied,” I said as plainly as I could, but I couldn't hold my poker face just watching her get all giddy over the new violin and case I presented to her. My lips slowly quivered into a smile. I just couldn't help it.

“Best lie ever!” she squeed before snatching me up in a tight hug. “It even has a jack for looper pedals and stuff!” I couldn't help but let out a happy sigh as those feathery wings likewise surrounded me. She then pulled away and asked, “Wait, how will I learn?”

I just grinned and nodded toward our terminal. “It's not just for looking up porn, you know.”

“Hey!” Hummingbird flustered, cheeks glowing bright red. “I-I don't look up that on the terminal!”

“The browser history says otherwise,” I said, my grin growing to a smirk.

* * *

I tried to keep a straight face as I sat down at first lecture that day.

One of the unicorn mares who sat down next to him eyed me with a screwed-up expression.

“Not a word,” I said simply.

“Uh... is that a... slap mark on your fa-”

“Not a word.”

* * *

Nighttime at our dormitory, a few weeks later. I was poring over research materials for my upcoming trip. Griffin rules of conduct, their religion, their history... the reason why Professor Egan suggested them to me was, I believe, their more or less simple rules of conduct and their similarity in language. Their language had long since been lost, and only a few linguists had even a scrap of it.

Hummingbird, in the meantime, was seated in front of the computer watching instructional videos on EweTube. She was seated on her haunches, using both of her forelegs to keep her violin propped up against her chin while her right wing drew the bow back and forth. I'll admit, in the few weeks she'd been first learning how to play, I had to keep forcing myself to stay, reminding myself to remember that this was for her. Folks, I'll be frank- violins are very, very squeaky and have a high pitch. Unless if you know what you're doing, it... it really doesn't sound good. Honestly, the same could be said of most instruments, but the violin seems to really stand out in how awful it sounded when you didn't know what you were doing.

Instead of trying to block out sound with those of memories of the mixes from The Lazy Dog that time, Hummingbird... played a very, very short piece . It was obviously made for a beginner, but I still couldn't help but feel... just a little enthralled as I looked up from my studying and over to her play-

The storyteller broke from the text, motioning as if playing a violin, humming a tune as he closed his eyes.

I watched her the whole time. When she finally pulled the bow away and leg the violin fall slack, I asked, “What was that?”

“Small blurb of Ode to Joy,” she replied with a soft smile. “From Beethoofen.”

“That was... nice,” I said quietly, nodding a little. It struck me that this was the first time I complimented her on her playing. “Keep it up.”

She smiled brighter and went back to playing.

* * *

Another few weeks after that on a particularly cool night, Hummingbird and I were snuggled against one another in bed. I reveled in the feeling of her soft warmth and she in mine. But that was the night before we left for Manehattan. Only a few days before we would part ways.

“Frost?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” I whispered back.

“Are you awake?”

I chuckled and smiled softly.

“Pfft, duh.” She fell silent.

I gave her a gentle nuzzle. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

She inhaled, exhaled, shifted, looked up. “Do you... do you think we can be more than just... you know. Marefriend, coltfriend?”

I inhaled, exhaled, shifted, looked down. “I've... thought of it, sometimes.”

She tilted her head up, waiting.

“I love you, Hummingbird. I really do. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me ever since I found my magic.”

“But...?” she sighed.

“There's no 'but',” I said.

Her ears perked up.

“There's an 'and', though. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me ever since I found my magic, and... I've been... thinking of how things might be in the future. You... me... both of us together.”

She was quiet for a while. I could feel her letting it all sink in. But even in the darkness, I could feel. I could feel her heart beating faster. Mine was too. “Have you... have... have you thought about... foals?”

And I answered, “Yes.”

I felt the heat on her cheeks and the shuffling of her hindlegs. “I-I... oh... oh Goddesses, I can't believe...” She trailed off, but she didn't need to say anymore.

I hugged her tight and gave her a kiss. Nothing passionate, nothing deep or messy. Just a clean, wholesome kiss from lover to lover. “After graduation,” I promised. “After graduation and I get stable work.”

I could feel all those emotions welling up and rocketing around inside of her, finally finding an outlet as she hugged me tight and kissed me lovingly. I could only do the same.

* * *

“Mmmm-mm-mm,” I hummed softly to myself, eyes closed. “Mmmm-mm-mm... mmmmmmmm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mmmmmmmm-mmmmmmmmm...”

Ding-duung. “Your attention, please. The flight captain has just turned on the fasten seat belt sign. We are touching down in AIA in approximately five minutes, four-o'clock P.M. local time. Looks like about twenty-eight degrees Celsius, bright and sunny, though conditions may vary by elevation...”

I tuned out the flight attendant as I glanced outside the window. We passed through a rush of gray clouds, and I finally laid my eyes on the capital city of the Griffin Republic of Aldorna. I was unsurprised to find that the city of Avalon was extremely modern. Griffins, like Northerners, weren't some backwards people. They were an industrious race of equine beings, their magic founded not only in the cloud manipulation similar to those of pegasi but in industrial innovation as well.

No... what surprised me was that Avalon wasn't expansive in the same way as Manehattan or Stalliongrad. Griffins as a whole are all gifted with the ability of flight. And what did that mean? It meant that urban sprawl was no problem in Aldorna. Because when it came to the cities of Aldorna, instead of building farther, they went the Manehattan route- they built higher.

Much, much higher.

You haven't seen a real skyscraper until you've seen the ones in Aldorna. Up until then, the Lights and Legends Building in Manehattan was the tallest I'd ever seen. These ones? Heh... putting it to shame just doesn't cut it. These were real skyscrapers, these massive monoliths that were limited only with getting too close to the sun. Avalon was made of three of them- just three. The three-sided buildings were arranged in triangular fashion, close enough to one another so that they formed a larger triangle in and of themselves. Each of these buildings were three miles wide on each face and towered nine-hundred stories off of the ground, interconnected at various levels by these humongous enclosed bridges. Nine-hundred! Not even the S.P.P. towers come close!

And that wasn't it. As you got closer to the city, you realized- it wasn't completely enclosed and that there must have been hundreds of other flying shapes in the skies around the three towers. Griffins, hundreds of griffins were weaving in and out of the towers on their daily commute back home from work for the evening. Designated transit lanes went up and down, back and forth between the triple towers, where air freighters and a sprawling cargo rail system transported goods and people all around, docking into gateways and terminals built into the sides of the massive skyscrapers.

And did I mention that the late-day sun cast its glow over the entire city? It cast its orange pallor over the towers, light glinting off of the edge of the one closest to us while the remaining half was bathed in shadow, cloud banks drifting around the massive spires. Even if I knew what all of this was like beforehoof through research...

The storyteller let out a sharp breath and chuckled.

Avalon, The Skyward City. Heh heh heh... still takes my breath away even now.

The airship soon docked with one of the many port terminals lining the northwestern tower, and we soon disembarked into a room with marble flooring leading to a high stone archway flanked by statues of griffin Sky Knights and carved reliefs of famous scenes in griffin history. Proclaimed in massive, high-relief text along the top of the archway: “Avalon; Reaching Forever Higher”. Overhead rolled the grand flag of the Aldornan Republic- two griffins clasping their claws in unity around a massive necklace with a star-shaped pendant- one side a blank white with the other a rainbow of colors.

Heh, and I thought Canterlot was something else. Well, to be fair, each capital city had its own unique flair and wonders. But Avalon? Hoo! Again, still takes my breath away, folks. Just takes my breath away.

I tugged my suitcase onto my back, securing it in place with icy straps as I proceeded into the gate nexus of Avalon International Airport and proceeded to the main lobby. It was truly a grand place. Hallways were decorated with precious artifacts and artwork, each boasting the accomplishments of a griffin ruler, warrior, artist, or philequinpist. Paintings depicted grand processions of griffins honoring their cities and leaders. One thing I noticed, though, was that with apparently the sole exception of the entryway, the flooring was completely made of carpet. It was varied enough in design to be sure, but it felt out of place and perhaps a touch inconvenient at an airport.

Upon reaching the lobby with its high, vaulted ceilings, I scanned the crowd for my guide, having scarcely an idea of what she looked like. I gravitated toward one of the lobby's massive columns and looked from griffin to griffin. There were only minor variations in pinion and plume coloration for the most part. It was hard to single any one of them out. The variation in plumestyles didn't help much either.

A tap on my shoulder told me I didn't have to worry about that. I turned to face a griffiness just a hoof taller than me. Other than that the tips of her pinion feathers were a subtle red and that she sported a braided plume, it would have been easy to miss her. “Hey,” she greeted simply. “You're Frost, I'm guessing.”

I nodded stoutly, keeping a straight face as I said, “My name is Frostbane Hokkaido Windchill, but I wish to be called Frost. I hail from Manehattan of The Principality of Equestria. I take the role of researcher.”

She curved her beak in a tinny smile and said in turn, “My name is Karanika Chrysaor, but I wish to be called Kara. I hail from Avalon of Aldorna. I take the role of equinpologist.” She nodded to her side and headed for the exit. “Let's get going. Hm, straight, level head... eye contact... doing good so far, Frost.”

I followed at her side. “Thank you, Kar-” I bumped into another griffin and hastily apologized before stumbling back over to her. “Thank you, Kara.”

“Hmph, you know you can stop making eye contact, right?” she huffed. “More important to watch where you're going.”

“Right, sorry,” I apologized again.

“Look, I at least know you've got the body language part down. Just don't be too formal or anything. It should be natural, not stilted.”

“Right.” I nodded. “Natural, not stilted.”

Kara rolled her eyes and then roughly rubbed my shoulders with a smirk. “Relax, alright? You're a guest in our homeland. Nobody's gonna give you flak for tack. Enough about that. Hope you don't mind if we head for a place to eat? We griffins eat early. Early to sleep, early to rise.”

“Don't mind at all, Kara,” I answered. “Split the bill?”

“Yep, you definitely did your research, kid.”

As we exited the airport and headed for a nearby cafe, I noted that the mood of the place quickly changed. At least here, it felt busy, compacted. The way the stores were set up, it felt more like a shopping mall than anything. There were hobby shops, electronics stores, repair stalls. There were even a series of escalators going from floor to floor. There were crowds of griffins milling and gliding about, going this way and that, ranging from cliques of the stylishly-clothed to the lone, destitute window-shopper. The ambient conversation around us channeled into a dull roar by the vertical nature of the city. It seemed so chaotic, and yet as with all malls, it seemed to have a method behind the madness. Nobody bumped or crashed into one another after all. Looking down, I couldn't help but feel a bit giddy with all those stories spiraling down below. Griffins and air taxis soared up and down the air column, riding up leisurely on columns of rising warm air or tucking their wings in to glide down at a relaxed pace. With all the open spaces, I was surprised that the air was so calm. There was only a soft breeze flowing around us. That said, looking down and seeing all of that, I couldn't help but feel a little dizzy even despite my giddiness. We were really high off the ground!

Kara took me to a little restaurant by the name of Glide-By Grill. It was a subdued, easygoing place with a smooth, wooden interior and comfortable benches. The lighting was dim, adding to the relaxed look. The smooth jazz was barely audible, even over the hushed din of conversation.

As we both started looking down the menu, which notably had plenty of carnivorous fare, Kara looked at me and asked, “So, what do you think of Avalon so far?”

I set down my menu and smiled as I replied, “It's absolutely amazing. It's just... breathtaking, looking at it for the first time.”

“I know, right?” she sighed proudly, smiling as well. “Hope your legs aren't getting too shaky. We're pretty high up right now for a non-flier. Word of advice- don't look down.”

“Hah, no kidding!” I chuckled. “It's really not as bad as I thought, though.”

“Hm. Really now?”

“Well, I grew up in a high-rise in Manehattan, and I attend Princess Celestia's school in Canterlot.”

“Ah, so you're used to heights,” Kara surmised with a nod. “Gotcha, gotcha. Good. You're gonna need it here. So, have anything in mind for your research?”

I shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

The red-tinged griffiness gave me the look, that one look where you know you just said something wrong. She opened her beak to say something, then closed it and pinched her brow. Then, she said in a tone that was borderline irritated, “Look, Frost, I'm gonna lay it simple. You're not here for a research essay. You're here for a term paper. There's a difference. If all you needed was a research essay, you could've just headed to the local library, got a few books or academic magazines, and went to town on 'em. Hell, you could've just used our new-age friend, the internet.

“No, you're here in Aldorna, in our capital city of Avalon. You're not here to get go directly to an accomplished equinpologist and get whatever you need to write your paper. You're not here as a student. You're here as a researcher, now. That means you've gotta get in there, ask questions, and get answers- not from me.” She pointed back toward the exit. “From them. Me?” She placed a hand on her chest. “I'm here to lend you a helping hand. What I'm not here to do is hold your hand- hoof, I mean- through all of it for you.”

I just sat there, more than a little intimidated. I tried not to show it, though, and years of experience helped me out there.

Kara let out a sigh and gave me an admonishing look. “Kid, I'm sorry if I come across as pissy, but fact's facts. You have to pick up the pace. Equinpology is a demanding field of science because it's just so diverse and just so complex. If this is what you want to do, I'm here to help- only as your guide, though. Got it?”

I gave her a stout nod. “I understand.”

She motioned to me. “Show me, then.”

“I've read only a little bit on the city of Avalon. What can you tell me about the city overall?”

“Shoot, kid,” Kara chuckled softly, and I sighed softly in relief, “even a condensed version will take a while. Okay... well, the Skyward City is by far the tallest equinemade structure ever. It's an engineering marvel completely built by griffin resources and griffin hands. Built on top of our former capital city, it took over a century to build it and is continually being updated with the latest advances in technology. Even then, the general structure itself is the same as it was decades ago. Hope you don't mind if I get into the architecture?”

“Not at all, Kara,” I answered.

“Well, first off, Avalon's foundation is set in a very geologically sound area,” she continued. “Firm bedrock, but not too firm. You gotta have that when you have nine-hundred-forty-seven stories rising above the ground. That's nothing to say of what's below.”

“Below?” I asked.

“You didn't think that we don't have urban sprawl of our own, did you?” she huffed with a smirk. “Avalon's overall structure is set in stone. We can't build any higher, otherwise it gets too dangerous. Way too dangerous. We don't want to have our people stalling when they fly upwards, even if there's plenty of space to bank back up and recover. That's why instead of building higher, we're building lower into the earth.

“Now that you know that, let's talk about how the city's organized. What we put down in the ground is our governmental and religious institutions. Griffins place a lot of emphasis on death, even if they don't follow our religion. Fliers we may be, but we were born from the earth- and so we return to it. I don't know if you want to see the catacombs, but it's... different down there. A whole city of the dead supporting the city of the living. Even in death, they serve us. Grim, I know, but remember- we look at death differently. You won't see artificial hearts or other advanced replacements. With current technology, if you need a total heart replacement, I think you have like... an extra month or two?” She shook her head. “You probably know already, but we griffins see death as inevitable- and we embrace it. If we get organ failure or something, most of us just let go unless we have promises or contracts to keep. We can't keep the Lonely Mother waiting. She gave us the ultimate contract.

“Anyway, moving away from that morbid subject, above that is our government sector. I know what you're thinking- why the hell would we put Avalon's governmental institutions underground? Reason being because of safety concerns- mainly military ones. I know you ponies have it easy? Us griffins? We have nine different holds in Aldorna, and those nine holds have a history of conflict with one another for territory. Things are better now that we have the Griffin Republic of Aldorna instead of the Griffin Kingdom of Aldorna, but we don't want to take chances.

“Anyway, here's how our government sector works,” Kara said, tapping down on the table. “On the south tower, you have-”

A polite cough from the side alerted us to our waitress. “Hello, are we ready to order?”

Kara motioned to me. I said, “I'll have the Rustle Potato soup with a spring greens salad, please.”

“Filet mignon for me,” said Kara. After she took our menus away, the red-tinged griffiness turned back to me. “Okay, so on the south tower, you have the House of Administration. Northwest, House of Justices. Northeast, House of Legislation.”

“You have three different governmental bodies?” I inquired.

“Wha?” She blinked at me. “Ah, right. Forgot that you took out the world politics courses from your requirements. Okay, let me give you the crash course. First thing you need to know- griffins hate the idea of a single ruler. The last time we were a kingdom was when we went to war with Equestria six-hundred years ago- and we got our flanks kicked. I really don't know what went through Louis the Eighth's head, but the moment we attacked, you and your zebra allies went to town on us.” She shook her head. “Worst ruler ever. So now, our government is a republic. You know what that means?”

“Not really, sorry.”

“A republic isn't quite a democracy, which you might have heard of,” Kara explained. “Instead of having everyone participating in decisions, which is infeasible with modern population numbers, we have the people elect officials whose policies we endorse as a majority. Every single major political office is an elected one. Legislative representatives, justices, council members- every single one of them has to go through elections every few years on a certain trimester. Each hold of Avalon has its own political officials here- fifty representatives for the House of Legislation, two justices for the House of- you guessed it- Justices, and one council member for the House of Administration.

“Each house has its own responsibilities. The House of Legislation drafts new laws, ordinances, what have you. The House of Justices interprets those laws through the Nonpartisan Compact. That's 'non' as in 'nine'. Not nonpartisan as in 'no partisanship'. Though... I guess that definition works too. Lastly, the House of Administration enforces laws and judgments made by both other Houses. You following so far? Because I'm gonna add another layer on top of that.”

“Again, we don't like the idea of a single, powerful figure ruling our country. That's why there was a lot of concern from having not one but three different governmental bodies for our country. So, we developed a system of what we call 'checks and balances'. There are certain powers and limitations attributed to each House. For example, the House of Legislation drafts new laws, but they have to be approved by the House of Administration by a two-third's majority among the council. If not enough pass it, it gets vetoed. At the same time, the House of Legislation can overturn that veto by a tiered percentage. The more council members that vote against that law, the higher the percentage majority you'll need to overturn that veto. And at any given moment at time, the House of Justices has the ability to declare that draft law non-compliant with the Compact, at which that law is completely nullified.

“Basically, what I'm saying is that each House balances one another. There can be an uphill battle against two Houses- even two and most of your own if it's really bad- to use the powers vested in your House. That's to say nothing about the greatest checks and balances of them all- between the government and the people. Remember, the people elect the government's major officials. At the same time, they have to trust that the government will dutifully serve their interests. If not, people have the right to push things to the United Nations- and yes, there is a UN Security Council resolution for it. The UN can either then favor the people or the government over a dispute. You get the idea, right?”

“Hoo, that's a lot to digest, won't lie,” I remarked.

“Believe me- it's tougher still to digest how you ponies and the zebras run your governments,” Kara chuckled. “So that's what the government sector is all about. Anyway, moving on, you have the commercial sector. Read- tourist sector. These are the first three-hundred floors off of the ground. You have the services on the ground floor- you know, the official welcoming committee and all that jazz. You have tourism services, immigration regulation, the works. Those floors also have all the hotels for, you know, people like you, ponies and zebras. You've got the airports where you just touched down, the theme parks, shopping, guest services, the works. Like I said, a whole lot of planning went into the city. Most tourist stuff is within the first one-hundred fifty floors. They're juuuuuust low enough to stay in the comfort zone of you ponies and zebras, and they're juuuuust high enough to give tourists a taste of what Avalon's all about. That'll be where you'll be staying if you rented a hotel.” She eyed me strangely.

“Actually, I'm staying with the Windfall family here,” I said. “I have a friend back in Manehattan and she has relatives here.”

Kara looked satisfied at that. “Then that means you'll be hanging out in the residential sector. From the commercial sector up to the seven-hundredth floor, that's where we have a combination of housing and businesses catering to residents. You'll be putting that claim about heights to the test there, that's for sure. It's very freaking high up for a non-flier. Not as high as what's above that, though. But anyways, to top off on the residential sector, you've got homes, grocery stores, businesses, restaurants and eateries- plenty of bakeries especially. Oh, and you have lots of parks, too. Might seem weird, but remember that this ain't some massive high-rise apartment you're standing in. This is a city unlike anything else in the world.

“Now, last up is the industrial sector. That's where, as the name implies, you've got our heavy industry. Now, why so high up? One, if something goes wrong and takes out a floor, there's lower chance it'll send the rest of the tower down with it. There's a whole system of threat assessment that places you higher depending on how dangerous your operation is.”

“What's at the top?” I inquired.

She smirked. “NASE. National Aeronautics and Spaceflight Enterprises.”

I arced both eyebrows at that. “Spaceflight.”

“Yep,” Kara chuckled. “Heh, if I had a cent for every time I've seen that look on your face, I'd be a rich griffiness. It's still in its infancy, yeah, but Aldorna's hoping to make something out of it. I tell you, if there's gonna be a world superpower to reach outer space first, it'd be us. That's not boasting- that's fact. We're over nine-hundred stories up in the skies. If we want something in orbit, we're gonna do it. But anyway, enough about that. Now you know the general layout of the city. Where do you think you'll start?”

I leaned back in my seat. “Well, how-”

The waitress coughed politely and wordlessly set down our plates. My soup had an earthy smell to it, something I inhaled deeply. “Enjoy,” Kara said simply as she brandished a knife and fork.

“Enjoy,” I said in turn, sprouting a pair of ice arms to eat with. I took a spoonful of soup and grimaced, swallowing fast as my tongue flattened against the floor of my mouth from the surprising heat. Yeah, that was going to be a little scalded. When Kara shot a questioning expression at me, I merely smiled. “Little hot. Sorry. Anyway, I was first wondering what you think the most important thing about Avalon is.”

Kara arced her brow at me. She swallowed and set down her silverware before replying, “Industry. The Griffin Kingdom of Aldorna is the biggest economic superpower in the world. It's not boasting- it's fact. When you get down to it, it's all because of our 'form' of magic.”

“Griffins have magic?” I inquired.

“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “It's in our ability to innovate. We might not always invent the next best thing, but we'll make it more streamlined, more compact, cheaper, more efficient, more powerful, more lightweight, more reliable. Sure, we can manipulate clouds- it's how we've got no cloud banks drifting into the city. Pegasi are often better than us than that, though. Let me give you an example. Sky wagons. You've seen them, no doubt. A lot of what you Equestrians do is just take one of your Volkswagens and refit it to fly. Cuts costs, streamlines production. That's great, maybe, but that won't fly with us- literally. We take a look at that and see so many problems with that- aerodynamics, safety, even little details like cabin noise. After all, we're talking a frame meant for driving on the ground, not flying in the air. We build a new frame and chassis from the ground up, test it for aerodynamics, safety, fit it with a spark engine, badda-boom-badda-bing- you've got a Falkion.”

“So heavy industry is your forte, then,” I surmised.

“Yep,” Kara said with a nod, pausing to take a bite of her meal. “Only thing we can't beat you ponies at is durability. Earth ponies have us beat there.”

I took another sip of soup as I mulled it over. “So I imagine all this heavy industry in Avalon has caused an influx of griffin immigrants.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Lots of griffins from all over have been coming here in search of jobs.” We ate in silence as I thought it over. All the while Kara seemed to regard me as all griffins regarded their guests. After a few minutes passed, she asked, “So what's on your mind?”

“I'm thinking- how has this affected social structures?” I inquired “Families had to have separated. Griffins are known to have strong family ties, but if that means members of the family move away to work in the capital- here- what does that mean? And what of cultural exposure with the obvious commercialization and internationalization of griffin industries here in Avalon? Has that caused a cultural shift?

Kara cracked a thin smile. “That might be something to think about.”

An audience member raised a hoof.

Yes?

The mare expressed surprise at the part about ponies and zebras allying against the griffins.

Hmph. Funny how things turned out in the end, huh?

* * *

A short, hook-beaked griffin male opened the door for me, offering a smile and a stout nod. “Hello. You are Frost?”

“I am Frost,” I answered in proper griffin tradition. “Am I to be your guest?”

“Be our guest,” he replied, standing aside and allowing me to enter. I brandished my hat and swept it to the side in gratitude and strode into the Windfall family home.

Even if the house was essentially built into the world’s tallest high-rise apartment building, it still felt like a proper home. It was well-lit with walls a welcoming shade of mahogany. Fluffy carpet cushioned my hooves, and down the hallway was a window into one of the many air columns shooting up through the tower. The rooms were quite spacious- nothing like my family’s old apartment unit. There was even a staircase leading to a second floor. Everything about the place was just so inviting- not surprising given the near-sacred ties of guest and host in griffin culture.

“I am Nichols Windfall,” the griffin introduced himself after I stepped through, closing the door behind me. “Welcome to our home.”

“I am welcomed,” I said in turn.

He smiled and motioned down the hallway. “Come. You’re just in time for dinner.”

“Oh, I already ate,” I said sheepishly, then added, “but I could have a little more.”

“Good,” Nichols said with a nod, leading me to the kitchen and dining area. There were already a taller griffiness with a messy plumage and a young female cub already seated at a wooden dinner table with a mix of carnivorous and herbivorous fare. Nichols motioned to them. “My wife Vivian and our daughter Phoebe.” Then he waved to me. “This is Frost Windchill, our guest and friend of your sister.”

“Welcome to our home,” Vivian said with a stout nod mirrored by Phoebe. “Please, dine with us.”

“I am welcomed,” I said with a smile. “Thank you. First, news of your sister, Vivian.” I sprouted an ice arm, which the young cub stared at in amazement. I removed an envelope from my saddlebags and offered it to the griffiness. “She felt I would be faster than the international postal service.”

“Ah, thank you, thank you,” she said, accepting the envelope with a smile. “Perhaps I may send a reply for when you return?”

“Yes, of course,” I answered, sitting down beside Nichols and facing her.

“Then let us dine.” Vivian formed a steeple with her claw and motioned to the food. “Praise be Zepitus, The Migrant Host, God of Shelter and Sky.”

“Praise be Zepitus,” we echoed, repeating the motion. And then we began to eat.

“I’m curious,” I spoke up after a few bites of their kale salad. It wasn’t tasty, but I’d had worse. They were, after all, trying to provide for a pony guest. “Forgive me if I pry, but you did send a prayer to Zepitus. It wasn’t the full version, however. Why so?”

“Oh, sorry,” Vivian coughed, “I have a night shift at my job coming up. In an hour. Have to make time somehow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Gotta provide for us somehow,” she sighed. “Especially since I’m the only working griffin now.”

Nichols grunted, “That’s going to be the only and last time I take such a lucrative job.”

“And what was that?” I asked curiously.

He let out a huff. “Startup company trying to design something called a ‘latticed spell matrix’. Basically, a spell matrix that can support more than one type of spell. ‘Would be the next big thing,’ they said. Hmph!”

“What happened?”

Nichols grimaced for a moment. “Our research went nowhere. Ended up getting bought by Equestria and got nationalized. Everything was taken to Equestrian soil. Now we griffins have nothing to do with it. You know what I say to you? Good luck. It can’t be done. Always has to be one type of gem, one type of spell. Can’t be done.”

The storyteller looked down, tracing along the eye-shaped gem on his breastplate.

* * *

“Heyyyy, buddy! How're you doing, how're you doing?”

“Hey, Zoleks. Doing great. How're things back home?”

“Just great, buck, just great. Hey, how's Aldorna treating ya?”

“Oh my goodness, where to start?” A husky laugh. “Avalon is just... just amazing, Zoleks. There's nothing else in the world like it.”

“I bet, I bet. Hey, I'm gonna go ahead and pass you on over to Hummingbird, okay?”

“No, no, you don't have to! We can talk!”

A hearty laugh. “Maybe you'd want to, but she's just itchin' to talk to ya, buck!”

“Oh, uh... talk later, then?”

“Sure, sure, no prob! Here, Hummingbird, hoofing it over-”

“Frost!”

“Hey, Hummingbird. How're you doing, love? Feeling any better?”

“Oh, I'm doing just great. Yeah, the cough's starting to go down. Voice is still a little rough, though.”

“Yeah, I can hear over the phone. Everything going alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just a little lonely here without you is all... so how are you? Tell me all about Avalon!”

“I'm just fine, but good Goddesses, where do I begin? Well, you took a peek at my books for research, right?”

“Mm-hm, I have.”

“Okay. Now picture this: each of those towers are three miles wide on each face and tower nine-hundred stories off of the ground. Nine-hundred, interconnected at various levels by walkways and bridges! You haven't seen a real skyscraper until you've seen the Avalon towers, I'll tell you that. And that's not all. The city's got these open spaces into the sky, and there must have been hundreds of other flying shapes in the skies around the triple towers. Griffins, hundreds of griffins were weaving in and out of the towers. Designated transit lanes go up and down, back and forth between the triple towers, and air freighters and a sprawling cargo rail system transported goods and people all around, docking into gateways and terminals built into the sides of the massive skyscrapers. To top it all off, when I arrived, the late-day sun cast its glow over the entire city. It cast its orange pallor over the triple towers, light glinting off of the edge of the one closest to us while the remaining half was bathed in shadow, cloud banks drifting around the massive spires.” Pause for dramatic effect. “Avalon, The Skyward City.”

“Wow... heh, Frost, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that was rehearsed!”

“It might've been.”

“Guessing the writing classes finally rubbed off on you, huh? Guessing you like it?”

“I love it. Well, okay, it's not Manehattan, but yeah, it's incredible here.”

“I'm glad to hear everything's good on your end.” Sigh. “Miss you already. Does that make me weak of will?”

“Heh, I guess I'm weak of will too, then.”

“...”

“...”

“Frost, I... can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, Hummingbird! I'm here for anything!”

“I want to try to make something out of my life. I-I mean, I want to try again. I'm tired of just... being in your dorm doing nothing and getting all my job applications turned down. Maybe the world isn't ready for the my ideas for international trade and business, but... maybe there's something else.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you're asking the master of inspiration here, thankfully. I'm... thinking maybe music might be just that.”

“Violin? You're sure?”

“Yeah, I mean it. I've been working really hard on it, too! Zoleks helped me pick out a good looper pedal and stereo system for it, and I've been practicing for hours each day. Well, hours when he and Namira don't take me to the clubs...”

“Hey, you like it! I know you like it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I like it, I like it.”

“Hey, if this is something you really want to try, then by all means do it, Hummingbird. Now, this stupid old phone's starting to run out of juice, so I'm gonna have to say good-bye now. Love you, Hummingbird! Good luck with violin!”

“Love you too, Frost. Good luck with research.”

Click.

* * *

“-send money back over to my folks in Ithacaw every month,” the young griffin male seated beside me by the name of Iphicles Nephelegeretes said. Mouthful, I know. “Usually about half of my paycheck. Ah, Ithacaw is the southeasternmost hold, in case you didn’t know.”

“And you still get by?” I inquired.

“Yeah, barely, but I'm the oldest child and I've got two brothers and a sister plus my parents to support, you know?”

Iphicles and I were seated in a shipping facility at the bottom of the industrial sector with Kara just out of the way, keeping a watchful eye and a listening ear but remaining distant. It was an area that protruded from the face of the tower. It consisted of what boiled down to something between a shipping port along the likes of Manehattan Harbor and a factory assembly line. Freight boxes arrived by rail via the massive skyline network, where they were then diverted for repackaging and serial transportation. The rails and junctions ran everywhere through the complex- along the floor, along the ceiling, through suspended skyline rails. Iphicles, wearing a close-fitting work uniform (in this line of work, he told me, you didn't want any feathers or fur getting caught in the machinery- or loose clothing), was on his lunch break along with a third of the workers. I was told they had lunch in shifts so that the shipping facility was always running at acceptable capacity. The facility itself was surprisingly well-lit. I expected the place, which essentially boiled down to a factory, to be smoky, dark, cramped. It was none of that, even with the many freight containers rolling about. I’m told a lot of the industrial sector was like this- clear workspace with access to the open air to remind them that there was a world out there. I had to take his word for it since I wasn’t authorized to go any higher, but it did make sense. Griffins are by and large people of the skies. They don’t like feeling caged. “I can’t understand how those gals and guys underground do it,” Iphicles said to me earlier when I asked about it.

We were sitting just off of one of the incoming skyline rails so that our hindlegs dangled over the edge. It was just amazing to sit so high off of the ground. Everything below seemed to melt into these grids of different colors and textures- like a patchwork quilt of bumpy greens, flat browns, and spiky grays. At first, Iphicles expressed surprise that I sat with him without so much as a fuss or a nervous squeak. Truth be told, I might have had that uneasy feeling in my gut.

“How often do you see them?” I asked.

“Mmmm... not often enough,” the soot-covered griffin chuckled wanly as if confiding in a good friend. Just as they are now, griffins were wary of outsiders. But once you made friends, they vest a surprising amount of trust and faith in you. Maybe the reason I could sit there on the edge so easily was because I felt, in my mind, that he would catch me if I fell. “I'm usually back home for Last and First Breath.”

I nodded, understanding he was talking about the last and first weeks of the year. “I'm sorry to hear that. It's tough, I know, to live away from family and friends.”

Iphicles nodded in turn. “Yeah. I mean, sure, I call back, but it's not the griffin way. Face-to-face, you know?” He pointed a claw between him and me to make the point. “I'm taking evening classes at the School of Engineering, though. Hopefully I can land a better-paying job and maybe have more free time after that. Hopefully.” He let out a sigh. “It's like this global recession keeps coming back as soon as it starts looking good again. Everyone but the Almarinians are feeling it. Even just a couple years ago, I could work closer to home. Now, well... take it from me, Frost- take advantage of the opportunities you have in the now. You never know when you won't be able to enjoy them ever again.”

“Hmph... like Ilak...” I mused aloud. Iphicles arced a brow at me. “The Whimsical Effigy?” He still eyed me. “The... God of Now and Forever in the Outer Circle of your pantheon?”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly, looking away. “Sorry, I'm not the religious type.”

I raised both of my eyebrows. “Really now?”

“Yeah, really now,” Iphicles said with a nod.

“Why's that?”

“Well...” He wore a wan smile and looked down toward the ground far below for a second, “truth be told, with... what I learned in school and all this stuff to do, I just stopped caring about it.”

The storyteller leaned forward toward the audience.

You have no idea how such an idea was so foreign to me. You stopped believing in your own gods? Well bear in mind- back then, ponies worshiped living, breathing deities. The majority of other equine species didn't. I was about to voice that when I remembered- I was an equinpologist then and there. I was there to listen, not to speak out. Practicing that sort of restraint, I'm sure you can imagine, was nothing new to me.

“When was the last time you visited a temple?” I inquired instead.

“Mmmmmm... five years ago back when I first came here looking for work?” he said as if he wasn't very sure himself. “Like I said, not the religious type. Not anymore at least.” A droning thrum sounded off and Iphicles looked up at the clock. “Well, that's my cue. Been nice talking to you, Frost. Good luck with your research.” And with that, he slipped off of the edge, spread his wings, and soared back up to his station where a fresh cargo freighter stopped in with a hiss of steam and a clang of metal. “Okay, this one’s bound for Crate and Barrel! It’s a wagger- be careful!”

Hm... changing of priorities from family values to modernist views of the necessity of education and the lack thereof of religion... that was something to keep in mind...

I saw Kara looking at me with a smug look. She could tell the gears were turning.

* * *

“Frost! Dude, buck, buddy, you've gotta talk to Hummingbird!”

“What? Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no, nothing! Sorry about that, probably shoulda worded it differently. Everything's just great. Just... okay, I'm gonna just give you to Hummingbird!”

“What? Wait, how're you doing, first off?”

“Just great buck, but let's not keep her waiting! We'll chat after maybe! You’ll know what I’m talking about!”

Fumble fumble. “Hello? Frost?”

“Hummingbird! What's up?”

“I've got something for you! That's what! Hey, I'm going to put this on speakerphone, okay? Let me know how the sound is? You too?”

“Well, uh, sure. Sure.” Click.

Fumble, fumble. Fumble. “Uhhhh, how's this?”

“Sounds good on my end. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, and whoever's washing dishes!”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, maybe we'll just stick to your end then.” Click. “Okay, so, what's up?”

“You have like... eight minutes?”

“For you? Definitely!”

“Hee hee hee! I know that! I meant your battery!”

“Yeah, it's about half left. Go right on ahead. Is this going to be a performance?”

“Mmmmm-hm! Ugh, you knew, though?”

“Just put two and two together, Hummingbird.”

“Heh, well okay. You ready?”

“Uh... yeah, I'm ready, I guess.”

“Don't worry, silly. It's nothing like in the concert halls in Canterlot. Something a little more modern, okay?”

“Huh? Well, uh, um, okay. Okay, then! Sure, I'm ready!”

“Heh, I thought that would make you more interested. Okay... one, two, three, four.” Tap, tap, tap, tap.

The storyteller leaned back and sighed mistily.

There's no way I could have recorded what she did- no way but in my mind's eye. I have to... thank my friend Roanoke Razorwing here.

Roanoke. From my mind to theirs.

Everyone? Just close your eyes... and listen. Melt away.

Sound flowed, coming from just one ear as if through a phone while the storyteller pantomimed holding a phone to his ear. It was clearly a violin, but it sounded it like it was being strummed like a guitar to create a very relaxing melody almost akin to a ukelele. Then there was a click and the melody looped again... again with the soft plucking of the strings. The storyteller furrowed his brow.

“Wait... I know that tune...”

And then came a playful tune, almost like soft laughter- short, giddy strokes on top of the original rhythm. He widened his eyes and smiled.

“Oh my Goddesses, is this 'I'm Yours'?”

“Not quite! You'll see!”

She kept on playing without missing a beat. The sound was pure, not squeaky- even when she hit a particularly high stroke. And it felt wholesome, felt full and complete, like Hummingbird was truly enjoying it. At the end of the verse, the tone changed. The storyteller's smile shifted to a gaping mouth turned upward, hoof moving to cover as he silently laughed. “'You're Beautiful',” he mouthed. And soon, he was swaying to the strumming baseline.

Hummingbird was amazing. Soon there was another soft click and another looped melody joined in, forming a polyrhythm as she played with grace and freedom. Soon, the storyteller was swaying to the gentle tune with eyes closed. Even his ice arm seemed to relax as he listened.

And finally she was done.

“Wow... Hummingbird, that was... wow...”

“That good? Not very often I send you speechless.”

“Yeah, that good!” Hearty laughter. “Jeez, it's... been less than two months since you've started. That's amazing...”

“Awwwww, thanks...”

“How did you even do that? I heard 'I'm Yours', 'You're Beautiful', 'Hey Soul Sister', and others in there!”

“Oh, well, see, I just got this great idea of how to practice! I just... got an ear for how songs sounded, then got an ear for how the violin sound, and, well... look, it's hard to put it into words. I just got these ideas that made it all work in reverse. I hear how the song sounds, then I hear how my violin sounds, then break it down and build it back up. Sort of like reverse-engineering?”

“So you just basically skipped past, what, months or years of practice?”

“Well, I don't know about that, but... maybe?”

“... Hummingbird, I think you've got something going here.”

“Yeah, me too. That's... that's why I think that this might be my ticket out of debt...”

“You're gonna have to get noticed if you want to take the musician route.”

A deep breath. “I know.”

“You've definitely got talent, though, Hummingbird. Keep it up, okay, love?”

“Heh, does that mean I've got the Uncultured Manehattaner Seal of Approval?”

Snort. “Yeah, yeah, it means you get my seal of approval.”

Squee.

* * *

“Yeah, it’s great here,” Lorraine Kitrel, a young griffiness with a beaded plumage and a designer leather jacket, answered- notably without looking at me. She was instead focused on the smartphone- basically this extremely portable cell phone-terminal mashup- in her hand, texting to... I didn’t know, really. Friends, I assumed. We actually ran into one another at Kara’s favorite cafe, and she agreed to answering questions. “Have everything you need- cheap food, lots of clothing store outlets, everything a girl wants.”

“How do you afford all this?” I inquired.

She actually looked up at me. “Hm? Oh, my mom owns a cloud seeding company here that took off. You know cloud seeding? New big thing. Allows you to grow crops on clouds just like you ponies do on the ground.”

“Really now?” Huh. Now that was mighty interesting.

“Yeah, really,” she replied with a nod, attention focused back on her smartphone. “Remember how things were before all the investors came along. We were really scraping by after taking out that loan. Now, everything’s great.”

“Everything?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Made a lot of friends, got internet, and I don’t even have to work anymore. Sometimes I wish I did, but mom said I needed to focus on school. I know it’s how she got where she is today, but I still think I’d rather have my own personal income. They don’t pay you wages to go to school. I...” She looked up, pouching her smartphone, “I’ll admit I kinda miss family time, though. Between school and mom’s work, it’s usually only just me and dad who have dinner together. Mom just gets back too late in the evening.”

“How often do you see her?”

“Usually only every other weekend,” Lorraine responded, back to texting. “Her days off alternate between weekends and Thursday-Friday every week. Unfortunately, Thursday-Friday is when I have class, so I’m really busy after I get back home. School here’s pretty freaking competitive, you know. I looked at stuff in Equestria, and you guys have it way easy.”

“Is it because of Aldorna’s demanding economy?” I inquired.

“Hell yeah, it is,” she scoffed. Even if it was in agreement, it was generally regarded as something rude to do in a conversation in any context with a griffin. “High school? They already start grading on bell curves. You really gotta push yourself with beak and claw here.”

“And how are your grades?” I inquired.

“A’s and the occasional B,” Lorraine answered, then smirked at me. “Surprised? My parents have this rule- when I study, I have to study hard, and when I play, I get to play hard. I’m not complaining.” She peered at me once again. “Nice hat, by the way.”

* * *

“Excuse me,” I called after a griffin who didn’t look too busy. Unfortunately, he quickly pushed away on his swivel chair to machine-gun staple a string of documents. Okay, not him. Kara and I were in a sea of cubicles, hurried griffins, and office machinery. The beeps and whirrs of printers and fax machines filled the air, along with the steady drone of coworker-coworker collaboration. Some of the busier griffins even darted overhead and glided to some distant area. How could anyone work here? I saw a griffiness looking like she was heading toward her break. “Excuse me, ma’am! Do you have some time?” Nope. She was heading back from her break. “Pardon, ma’am! Do you...”

“I told you this wasn’t gonna work, Frost,” Kara chuckled beside me. “Governmental sector will always be the governmental sector.”

“And you said low-priority interviews could take a week before they call back to schedule?” I asked her incredulously.

“Yep!”

“Well,” I said, looking around, “I think I can get the picture just by looks alone. Let’s go.”

* * *

“So here's what I've got so far along with specific citations from Iphicles of Ithacaw, Cecilia from Loondon, Cassandra of Skyfall, and Crowe... from... Nanagust,” I said as I turned my notebook over to Kara, pointing out specific sections. We were at an outdoor patio of a cafe in the residential sector overlooking one of the many air columns that griffins could use to catch wind and leisurely soar upward to the higher levels. The residential sector was a lively place, feeling more like one giant high-rise apartment building with cafes, shops, and small businesses filling the niches. Parks ranging from playgrounds to botanical gardens and open-air art galleries filled the spaces in between floors and air columns. The gusts spread the wonderful smells from all over the sector to my nose. It smelled wonderful from the bakery just across the way. “I know what I've got is rough, but I'd just like some pointers if you've got any.”

“No problem,” the red-tinged griffiness said back with a nod, looking over my materials. “Okay... okay... aaaaaand here.” She tapped a claw on the notes from my discussion with a griffiness by the name of Katrina, a business owner from the hold of Nulrein who recently started up a branch of her general appliances chain in Avalon. “Be careful not to over-analyze. It's great that you're trying not to inject your own cultural values into your evaluation of Katrina in light of your thesis, but try not to extrapolate here. Don't look at her like she's some kingpin.” She paused. “Kingpin? Queenpin? Ugh, like she's the head-honcho of some gang or something like that. Think about the other viewpoint- the industrialist viewpoint.”

“She would be doing good in this case by promoting competition and providing work,” I murmured.

“You're on the right track, but think back- we've got a conflict of interests here, don't we?” Kara leaned back in her seat. “You've got the traditionalist view of a strong, central family relationship and the industrialist view where it's acceptable for the family to be apart in order to financially support one another. Now, without outright labeling the industrialist view as 'bad', how can we weigh one view against the other fairly?”

“Well, okay, let's cut out that bit then, and...” I paused, furrowing my brow as movement caught my eye. I peered over to see what exactly it was.

The storyteller smiled.

It was a griffin at another table, idly playing with one of the most interesting knives I had ever seen. It had a pair of black metal handles with a groove running down the middle of them that hid a serpentine blade about three inches in length, connected by a pair of tangs. The guy was cantering and twirling the blade open and closed, sometimes even catching on the blade. He had this lost expression as he weaved the knife around as if lost in a trance.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Hm?” Kara looked up and smiled. “Oh, that? That's a balisong.”

I looked back at her. “Which is...?”

“Oh, it's a kind of knife,” she answered as if it were common knowledge. “You ponies like to call them butterfly knives.” She nodded over to the griffin. “When you think about it, I guess it makes sense.”

I looked back over at said griffin. “Seems kinda... dangerous.”

“It is, yeah, but not as much as it looks,” the griffiness chuckled. “They've got a safe side on the spine of the blade. Plus, they're more cubs' toys than anything else. Our talons kinda get sharp enough for most purposes when we get older. Having scaled and bony digits helps, too.” She flexed her claw as if to demonstrate.

I continued to watch on as the griffin pulled off a rather impressive combination of rollovers and passes from one hand to the other. “So why's he using it?” I inquired. “And how do you know so much?”

“Probably because it's still fun for him,” she answered. “I also had one when I was a cub, but I sold it at a porch sale. Didn’t click for me.”

“Fun. But still dangerous.”

“Pretty much.”

I nodded a few times, then looked at Kara. “Where can I get one?”

* * *

Kara directed me to a hobby shop near the top floors of the commercial sector. Rows upon rows of model kits, collector's edition items, trading cards, and various other paraphernalia lined the small but friendly-looking shop. The counter itself was almost completely devoted to balisongs, featuring a display case containing dozens of them, each with different colors and designs. There was even a bottle opener balisong! I chuckled at the sight of that.

Behind the counter was a large, burly griffin male with an ash-gray tinge to his pinion feathers and a hawkish beak. He was twirling away with a balisong with skeletonized, crimson handles and a drop-point tanto blade. He didn't even look at the blade as he performed graceful, lightning-fast techniques- he had to know them by heart. Rather, he was reading a pamphlet on NASE.

As we approached the counter, he looked up at us. “Good afternoon,” he greeted in a rough tone, deftly cantering the blade closed and setting it down on the counter atop his pamphlet. “My name is Grimm.”

The storyteller cracked a thin smile.

Yep. That was him, folks, way back when.

“Kara, Frost,” my mentor introduced us, gesturing to herself and then me. “I think you've got a customer interested in getting a balisong.”

Grimm raised a feathery eyebrow at me. “A unicorn? Wanting a balisong? Really? Now, not that I'm turning down a customer, just, well, balisongs and telekinesis aren't all that impressive. No offense. I mean, pegasi have their wings at least.”

“Well, I assure you, Grimm, that telekinesis has nothing to do with it,” I said with a smile, sprouting a pair of ice arms.

He looked over them, pursed his beak, and then nodded, looking back up to Kara. “Now we're talking.” Eyes back on me. “Well! I can definitely help you if you're interested in getting yourself a fine blade.” He snatched up his balisong, popped the latch and whipped the blade around, transferring hands every so often in a fluid pass or aerial. “Now, the question is- you looking to get one for utility, for self-defense, orrr for just plain fun?”

“Just plain fun,” I replied.

“Heh, you and I are gonna get along just fine.” Grimm grinned, pulling a repeated Chaplin around his index finger as he used his free hand to open up the shelves and set down a string of silvery balisongs with skeletonized handles with practiced speed and showiness. They were mounted on tiny display stands with the blades exposed, and there were ten different designs ranging from the ordinary to the outlandish. “For just plain fun, I recommend the Turnstile Model Forty-Two series.” He popped his own balisong into the air and caught it closed, then plucked one of them up and balanced it right on the middle on the back of his hand. “They've got perfect balance, great design, and they're all made of titanium.” He popped up another and stabbed along the other with quite some force, presenting it to me afterward- no cracks. “Made by hand, built to last.”

I pursed my lips a little as I smiled and nodded, impressed. “I like it.”

Grimm smiled back and set the blades down. “So take your pick.” He pointed down the line. “Trainer, bowie, tool, utility, weehawk, spear point, tanto, drop-point tanto (my personal favorite), Hakkapella, Damascus, plain... satin... stonewash, kriss- and they all come in black and/or serrated construction in addition to all of this.”

I took my time to look over the various blades and styles, but the over-elaborate ones never really drew my fancy. I rubbed my chin with an icy hand. “Mmmm... let's go with the weehawk style.”

“Weehawk, huh?” Grimm huffed. “Little ordinary, buuuuut I guess it's better than the plain and satin.” He started packing the others away. “That'll run you one-hundred-fifty dollars with tax and comes with the stand and a pouch. Of course, you also get the company-standard lifetime warranty. Now, don’t get ahead of yourself and go drop it to the ground from here or anything. Just manufacturing defects and the like.”

“One-fifty?” I raised both eyebrows at that.

“Balisongs aren't easy to make, pal,” the gray-tinged griffin snorted. “This stuff is steep, yeah, but you gotta admit you'll never find anything else like it. In fact, I actually recommend getting two.”

I eyed him. “Two.”

“Twice the blades, four times the fun,” Grimm said with a smirk, plucking up my blade-to-be and dancing it together with his. He was very, very skillful, I had to admit. He then closed both and pouched the Turnstile, sliding it over.

“So how much for two, then?” I inquired.

“Well, do the math,” he said with a shrug. “Three-hundred.”

“How often do you get a customer for these?” I inquired.

“More often than you think,” he answered. I could see a ghost of a smirk. He knew what I was doing. “Market price. It's non-negotiable.”

“Well, I sure that there's some discount for a bulk purchase.”

“Two isn't a bulk purchase, guy,” Grimm chuckled softly, crossing his arms. “Price is non-negotiable.”

“Okay, so the price stays.” I shrugged. “What about the content?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hm. Now I'm listening.”

“I might be inclined to pay if you happen to offer lessons.”

“Hm... three-hundred for two Turnstiles with lessons...” He grinned. “I can fly with that.”

We stretched our arms to the side and swung them inward to clasp hands.

“It’s a deal then,” I said with a grin.

“Great! Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, there’s some things you’ll wanna know to get these cleared through Customs and Immigration...”

* * *

“Zoleks thought it was a really good idea for me to start doing these public performances. Just... you know. Outside on the sidewalk, just for fun. You know... just let the music flow- o-okay, Frost, what is that noise? I mean, seriously?”

Click, clack, cli- “... nothing.”

The storyteller twirled out Silver Skean, walking the blade open and looking back up at the audience with a sly, nostalgic smile.

* * *

“Oh, hello there,” a robed griffiness greeted us with an expression that betrayed her surprise.

Kara and I had just entered one of the underground temples dedicated to Alda, The Lonely Mother and Goddess of the Beginning and the End. It had a high, vaulted ceiling with beige, stucco walls that were featureless save for the niches where oil candles were lit. There were no lights down here in the religious areas, I noted- only candles that cast a subdued orange glow about. While the governmental sector had numerous air shafts and murals depicting outside scenery to reflect the griffin want of freedom, this place had none of that. Smooth, respectful walls- that’s it. An altar at the far end of the room down a row of pews was decorated with flowers and other plant and crop offerings and left to decay before Alda. A great brazier lit the altar and cast long, flickering shadows along the walls. In such a confined space relative to the rest of The Skyward City, it felt... cramped, almost claustrophobic. The candlelight reminded me of the Wall of Faces back in Manehattan, and I couldn't help but feel a chill not of my own. I was treading on hallowed ground.

The robed griffiness stood up from behind the counter and maneuvered around to meet us. “Sorry if I was being impolite,” she said in a hushed tone, bowing her head in traditional submission. “It's just... we normally don't get ponies visiting this place. I am Marie.”

“I am Kara, and this is Frost,” my guide introduced us. “He is here in Aldorna for equinpological research.”

“I see,” Marie said, still keeping her head bowed. “How may I serve you?”

“I just wish to ask a few questions and learn more about your temple is all,” I answered. “May we sit?”

And so began the process of asking and answering. Much of what I already suspected as confirmed- attendance was declining year after year. Marie had been a priestess for over fifteen years, and she could only keep doing it because her husband was the owner of a pharmaceutical drug company in the industrial sector. He and her daughter, at least, regularly attended prayer.

“What do you think might be the cause of all of this?” I inquired.

“I can only guess, not answer,” she responded with a soft sigh. “People today have so much more to do and so much more to worry about. I guess they just had to cut something out of their lives, and maybe this was what was most convenient for them to do that.”

“Have you ever considered another line of work?” I asked. Noticing her almost indignant glare at me, I added, “I mean no offense. Just... hypothetically.”

Marie relaxed after that and answered, “It is my choice in life. It may not be profitable, but I believe it is wholesome. Yagmarth guide me.”

I perked my ears up as footsteps echoed through the room. We rose as another priestess approached Marie and whispered something in her ear. She widened her eyes and nodded, and the other priestess hurried off. “Is something the matter?” I inquired.

“I'm very sorry, but you must excuse me,” she replied in a hushed tone. “Our next funeral service is upon us. You may remain, but... please stay out of the way if you must. Chryseis, please guide them over here, please...” Marie hurried back through the entrance to the temple, leaving us alone.

“Kara, should we go?” I whispered.

“I think this would be a good experience for you,” the red-tinged griffiness said. “Let's stick around.”

I couldn't help but feel a tad invasive as we moved to the back wall. I know I had asked many questions, often deep and personal, in the past three weeks I'd spent in Aldorna. But this was a funeral. This was the mourning of death of a family member or close friend. As I stood there seated on my haunches in the back, watching the procession of close ones march through the entrance, I felt a sickness gnawing away at my gut. They were all bare save for the few priests accompanying them. They were the young and the old, the tall and the small, feathers bright and feathers dull. They bore expressions ranging from serene calm to empty, false strength hiding a sadness just beyond the eyes. Even the children seemed to know the importance of this day. They paid us no attention, and I had to force myself to remember that funerals were seldom private in griffin society. Life and death, after all, was a contact shared by all.

It wasn't always the same in Equestria. Even The Northern Lights Festival wasn't quite at this level of intimacy. I had the expectation for The Day of Tears to be a public mourning. Not the case for a funeral such as this.

The procession split into the closer pews as they neared, dividing into the seats with such precision it almost seemed rehearsed. At the very rear of the procession, a group of six griffins- half female and half male- shouldered a casket down the aisle. Their footfalls echoed as one, beating like a steady drum off of the walls of the temple. Other than that, the room was oddly silent. There wasn't even any weeping or sobbing.

It felt wrong to be there.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Kara. She only gave me a gentle rub of the shoulder, but even that little gesture told me: “It's okay. It's okay.” I nodded gratefully and turned away. Then she gave me a light nudge and showed me something dangling from her open palm.

It was a Star of Alda, one side an ivory-white and the other a rainbow of color. She motioned to me ever so slightly with it. I looked at her and nodded stoutly, my hoof reaching to clasp the necklace together with her. I know not if The Lonely Mother knew me, but I swore I felt her soothing embrace.

The silence was broken only when the priests of Alda gave their rites to the deceased- a griffin by the name of Darius. He died of... getting caught in machinery at a factory, I learned later. They kept the casket lid closed. It was for the best. For the best.

I forced myself to listen despite my discomfort. I watched as one by one the immediate family members of Darius gave their eulogies. He worked to support his family like so many other young griffins in Avalon. Only... he paid the ultimate price, fulfilled the ultimate contract.

And when all was done, a younger griffin stepped forward- Darius' younger brother. He stood before the altar...

And, to my surprise, sang.

The storyteller closed his eyes and slowly sung out in a haunting, wavering tone.

“I set my sail...

Fly the wind, it will take me...

back to my home, sweet home...

Lie on my back...

Clouds are making way for me...

I'm coming home, sweet home...

I see... your star.

You left it burning for me...

Mother, I'm hee-ee-eere...

Eyes open wide...

Feel your heart, and it's glowing...

I'm welcome home, sweet home...

I take your hand...

Now you'll never be lonely...

not when I'm home, sweet home...

I see... your star.

You left it burning for me...

Mother, I'm hee-ee-eere...”

The storyteller looked down for a few seconds, breaking eye contact. He looked back up, taking in a deep breath with those eyes full of... what was it?

I knew. I knew- from that moment forward- that I wanted to do this for the rest... of my life. I knew that I knew nothing of the world and its people, and that I had so much to learn from them.

And I knew I found My Way.

* * *

Kara sat across from me at the usual cafe, looking over my materials. I felt calm- not because I was confident in my paper, no. I felt calm because I knew that if it wasn't up to par, I knew where to start looking to improve it.

Maybe the balisong I was twirling around in amateur fashion had something to do with calming my nerves, too.

The red-tinged griffiness looked up me and smiled. No words were necessary. I merely sprouted another ice arm, and we clasped hands.

* * *

“Hello?”

“Hi, Father.”

“Oh, hello, Frost. How are you?”

“Great, just letting you know I'm on my way home tomorrow.”

“Ah, so did research go okay?”

“Yeah, just gotta comb through what I've got for grammar and spelling. How are you and mom?”

“We're doing good, we're doing good. Frost, what is that clicking thing I'm hearing?”

Click clacket- “Sorry about that. Uh, anyway, anything new going on at home?”

“Just had dinner with Zoleks' parents. It went good. Your mom is still learning how to use the terminal.”

“And?”

“I don't think I ever heard her curse that much before.”

Husky chuckle. “Maybe I can help her out once I'm back. Hey, I'm going to probably stay at Zoleks' for the first night back. Just letting you know, okay?”

“Okay. You have fun.”

“Thanks, Father. Gotta go now, okay? Love you!”

“Love you too, son. Take care of yourself.”

Click.

* * *

I nonchalantly stood just outside the door to Zoleks' and Namira's apartment inside their repair shop and rang their doorbell. I'd arrived just after they closed up shop and waited with a sly smile. I couldn't help it. I heard hoofsteps on the other side, growing in volume until they stopped at the door.

“What the bu...?” I heard Zoleks mutter on the other side, probably after seeing me through the porthole, before he pulled the door open. “Frost! You're back!”

The moment he said “Frost,” there was a string of hoofsteps coming from upstairs. The moment he said “You're,” a green blur flew toward me. Finally, the moment he said “back,” the green blur tackled into me and sent me rolling head over hooves on the pavement until I ended up on my back.

I was still somewhat dazed, and it took a few seconds of getting my eyeballs to stop spinning around in opposite directions to realize that Hummingbird was hugging me tightly. “Frost, you're back!”

“Yep, that's what I said,” Zoleks chuckled. “Damn, buck, why didn'tcha tell us you were back!”

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” I said with a chuckle of my own, getting up with Hummingbird.

The green-furred pegasus mare promptly smacked me lightly with her wing. “Evil!”

“Well, it was a surprise, wasn't it?” I smiled, hugging around her with a foreleg- a gesture she enthusiastically returned.

“Yeah...” She leaned in to give me a nuzzle, and I reveled in her warmth and softness. “I guess I can forgive you this time.” She pulled away and gave me a bright smile. “And you're just in time, too! We were about to head out!”

“For a club?” I asked.

Hummingbird merely her eyes. “Some things never change. No, you uncultured Manehattaner, you. I'm going to make a street performance!”

* * *

After a quick dinner, the four of us were on our way to Meridian Main Street. I felt right at home underneath the streamers of lights, the bustling cornucopia of people, and the music. Goodness, the music! Hummingbird was totting her violin case, Zoleks and Namira were lugging a pair of speakers, and I was carrying all of the electrical equipment.

Yeah. The light stuff. Did you expect any different?

The same little filly from before looked around sheepishly. The storyteller merely chuckled.

Don't worry about it, kid. Now, Meridian Main, in addition to being the yearly host for the Northern Lights Festival every year, was the go-to place for street performers. All of the biggest venues were there- downtown, Manehattan Grand Station, Manehattan Magical Institute- and that meant high foot traffic. Manehattan was the place to get heard as a musician, that's for sure. But play on Meridian Main Street? You were guaranteed to catch some ears. Nobody really raised a fuss about it, usually. Everybody tended to instinctively give one another enough space so that their music didn't clash. It's tough to explain just exactly how people did it back then- it just happened. It was instinct. That's all I can offer.

We got set up in an open spot pretty quick and plugged in all the equipment. There were always enough outlets provided for those. It took roughly five minutes for us to get all set up, and Hummingbird finally plugged the jack in. She tested a few notes, then smiled at me. “You ready, Frost?”

“All yours,” I said back, sitting down off to the side and giving her a hoof's-up.

He motioned to Roanoke.

Close your eyes. Melt away.

The world fell away, replaced with a window to the past. Hummingbird, bathed in the bright lights of Manehattan, took a moment to play a quick tuning test. She spaced her wings a little, propped her violin up using her forehooves... and began to play. Her eyes seemed not to register the world around her as she poured her heart out into the music.

Her bow scissored across the strings, creating a base melody that she quickly set to repeat with the looper pedal. She then swayed with the delicate drawing of the bow, creating a clear, crisp tune- light, without squealing or squeaking. Another click of the pedal, and now she beat against the side of her violin just like a drum, sending the speakers pounding away. Then she clicked the pedal once more and now the polyrhythm came together- as if she was a one-mare band.

It wasn't long before she attracted a small crowd. At first, it was a few passersby that lingered for a few seconds before moving on their way. Then some of them lingered- and stayed. Then came more, more, more.

And yet she seemed at peace amidst all the eyes and ears, the hushed conversation and the surprising clinks of bits in her violin case. She was distant, millions of miles away, and though her eyes may have been vacant, she was taking deep, drawn-out breaths as if with physical exertion. There was a lull in the music as she made the secondary violin fade away and she closed her eyes, sighing and wiping her brow with her free hoof- and yet she still played, not once missing a beat. Or, rather, the steady beat demanded that she didn't. And soon she rose again, and the song took her to greater heights, building up and up and up. Soon even the donations paused, as if waiting respectfully. And so higher and higher she went until the looped violin ran together with hers and the music peaked in a climactic combination of sound. The one-mare band became a one-mare symphony. There was a quick string of rising trills that she struggled to play, eyebrows furrowed and lips licked with concentration. Then the violins ran together once more, taking the breath away.

She began to wind down, slumping over as the symphony shrank back down to a band and the band back down to a single violinist.

And then it was over.

Frost let out a whooping cheer and the small crowd stomped in applause. Hummingbird slumped and panted for breath. But she smiled- smiled weary but proud- and bowed.

* * *

“That was amazing!” I exclaimed as we made it back to Zoleks' place, where I tried to lift her by the waist and twirl her around. I'd forgotten my strength- or lack thereof- and we instead tumbled to the floor with her on top. We still laughed regardless.

“Whoaaaa there, buck,” Zoleks chuckled as he stepped around us, setting down the speaker off to the side. “Not in the hallway!”

“Yeah, get a room!” Namira giggled with a wink as she passed by with him.

I looked back up at Hummingbird with a puckered grin. “I don't know about you, but I'm all for that.”

“Well, it's been almost a month without my favorite pillow...” Hummingbird said with a sweet smile, nuzzling into my neck, pulling away quickly. “Ooh! Little cold! Uh, anyway, I don't think I'm ready for that kind of action tonight. Little pooped...”

“Heh, don't worry about it,” I chuckled huskily, softly patting her on the head. “Okay, come on now. Gotta get up.”

The green pegasus mare pushed up with her forelegs but quickly fell back down on me. “Oof... okay, more than a 'little' pooped...”

“Took a lot out of you, huh?”

She nodded lightly against the barrel of my chest. “Mm-hm...”

“Okay, up we go!” I grunted as I started pushing her up, my horn firing up as ice muscles snaked down my legs. She let out a meek squeak as I lifted her off and slid her across my back, trotting off to our room.

“Thanks for being my personal taxi for the night,” she giggled softly, kissing my ear (it was the closest she could reach).

I smiled back at her as we stepped in and I tilted so she could roll into bed. “No problem.” I slid in beside her and we snuggled up together. “How did you learn to play all that, anyway?”

“Well... you know how it is,” Hummingbird said with a soft smile as she looked down at the light bulb on her flank. “Listened to it online and... it just came to me.”

“You've definitely got something going here. I can't remember the last time I've seen anyone learn that fast since, well, Zoleks learned how to ride a bike.” I sighed and smiled softly, remembering those days. To think that I bought that with money I made off of selling stuff we stole together. And to think how far we've both come...

“Hey, Frost,” Hummingbird called, waving a wing in front of my eyes and startling me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just reminded myself of that day,” I huffed softly. “Anyway, it's been a long month.” We kissed lovingly before curling up around one another. “Good night, love.”

“Good night, Frost...”

* * *

Woke up early that morning. It was back to Manehattan time for me, and I felt right at home as I rolled over to peek at the alarm clock. Six A.M. I smiled softly and rolled back, slipping my forehooves behind my head and breathing deeply. I was home, sweet home...

I frowned.

Rolled... without anything on... top of...

I looked around for Hummingbird, heart racing. She was only off to the other side of the bed, snoring squeakily. I lied back down breathing out a sigh of... no, I couldn't be relieved yet. I looked back over at her with concern. This was the first time she'd ever rolled away from me...

I slowly reached across and hugged around her, and she let out a soft ‘eep’ as she startled awake. “Ooh, uh... Frost?”

“That's me,” I whispered back, smiling for a moment. “Everything alright? Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, don't worry, I slept just fine last night,” she said, turning her head back and opening her eyes to see me even as she scrambled a little away from my forehooves.

I smiled back, maybe, but as I saw something else in those crimson, violet-splashed eyes.

You could tell a lot about ponies through their eyes, she said.

* * *

Footnote: Level Up! Level 12 Reached!

Perk Added: Of a Feather- Natural, not stilted. Your knowledge of griffin customs and culture grant you a +5 bonus to Speech rolls against them.

Unlockables added: Soundtrack- Ode to Joy by Beethoofen; Excerpt

Soundtrack- The Skyward City

Soundtrack- Something a Little More Modern, Okay?

Soundtrack- Invocation of The Lonely Mother

Soundtrack- Found My Way