What Heavens Have Divided

Chapters

Chapter 2: Pritouritze Planinata
Chapter 3: Meet the Griffins
Chapter 4: To reach for a broken man's dreams
Chapter 5: You are not prepared
Interlude: Life with the Griffins
Chapter 7: The gryphon, the picture, and the road
Announcement (because no one reads Author's blog posts, and it makes me a sad author)
Chapter 8: In the jungle, the mighty jungle
Chapter 9: Paul’s great ideas
Interlude: Death, come near me
Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part II.
Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part III.
Chapter 11: When the morning has broken
Chapter 12: Latimer's mercy
Chapter 13: Does the walker choose the path?
Chapter 14: Or does the path choose the walker?
Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part I.
Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part II.
Chapter 16: The Covenant
Chapter 17: A hectic day
Interlude: Hello, my name is Paul
Chapter 18: The city of a thousand ports
Chapter 19: Tactical retreat
Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part I.
Abyss
Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part II.
Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part III.
Chapter 21: Power's allure
Chapter 22: Vanground
Chapter 23: All aboard! Hahahaha!
Chapter 24: There are no brakes on the Peter and Paul train
Chapter 25: The close-lipped smile
Chapter 26: Burning star
Chapter 27: Dinner by the moonlight
Chapter 28: Where it all started
Chapter 29: Consequences
Chapter 30: Dies Irae
Chapter 1: A certain substance hits the fan
Chapter 6: Even a journey of a thousand miles...
Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part I.

Chapter 2: Pritouritze Planinata

Chapter 1: A certain substance hits the fan

„Yeah, yeah, I know. Bye!“

I turned away from the door, now closed and locked, and went down the hall to get something to eat. Getting my parents to finally go could be exhausting. They could get really overprotective when it came to my little brother staying home alone… well, not alone. I was here to take care of him, but, yeah. I couldn’t blame them, really. I wouldn’t want to leave a small child with a hormonal teenager home alone, either. And it’s not like it was a chore to take care of him, with the modern technology and whatnot. Just give him a tablet and let him play some Angry Birds – problem solved!

And that’s what I had done after I partook of the half-empty fridge. “Aww, look at you, all sad to see dad and mom go,” he was standing near the front doors as I grabbed him and hugged him before he could cry me a river. I picked him up – God was he heavy – so I could take him to my room where a glorious machine awaited my utmost arrival. Sitting him on my bed with a tablet he got for Christmas and making sure that he was comfortable, I went back to my computer so I could continue doing productive things. Like shooting zombies!

“I am hungry,” he said, suddenly appearing right next to me. I jumped a little.

“Holy hell, you scared the… whatever. Whatcha’ want?” I sighed.

“Pancakes!” a goofy grin graced his adorable face.

To which I answered with a groan, “I don’t know how to make pancakes!”

That was a lie. I just really didn’t want to have to make pancakes. Also, my pancakes sucked. Hard.

“Pancakes!” God dammit, why did he have to be so adorable?

“Ok, fine!” I exasperated, knowing there was no way out of this situation. Once he set his mind on something, he could be a handful. And I didn’t want to have to deal with that even more so than making pancakes. So cooking up some pancakes it was.

“Stay here and don’t do anything. Ok?” He nodded and so I descended the stairs down a hall and made a bee line straight for the kitchen. The kitchen itself wasn’t anything glorious. One wall was lined with everything – cupboards, a stove/oven, a sink and some other things. Opposite of it all was a large table with six chairs right underneath a row of three windows. The fridge had to be left in the hallway, because there was no more room for it in the kitchen itself. God bless this small house.

I took some flour, milk, sugar and eggs and got on with it. Not as soon as I wanted, there was a plate of half-burned, crispy, over-sugared pancakes. Yeah, I would be lucky if he would eat that. The smell drove my little brother down from my bedroom right as I finished them, so there was at least that. I put some orange marmalade on the table, too.

“They’re bad,” he noted matter-of-factly, like the greatest critic gourmand to ever live. I wasn’t the best at cooking. It wasn’t hard or anything. I just didn’t have the patience to spend X hours of my free time on it, so I tried to make it as fast as possible. That of course reflected poorly most of the things I cooked up. But it was still way better than surviving on ramen noodles and instant soups. I am looking at you, college students!

“I know,” I answered shamefully. They really were bad. I hadn’t even finished before he put an empty dish into the sink and went back upstairs. Boy, could he eat fast!

I immediately did the dishes, because an overfilled sink full of dirty dishes was a real mood killer, while just a few plates and a pan wasn’t anything bad. With that done, I finally returned to playing some vidya.

And that was it, really. That’s how we spent the rest of the day. Him watching TV or playing on tablet, while I did the same, only on PC. It had been a while since the sun set – it was winter, so the Sun would set earlier – before I decided it was high time for him to go to sleep. I didn’t particularly care about his sleeping schedule. I mean, I understood why he had to go to sleep earlier than me for example; I just didn’t want to be the hard-ass brother. I wanted to be the nice, I-want-to-be-like-you-when-I-grow-up brother. So I was more lenient on the rules. The hard-assness I would leave to our parents.

“Could we play a game?” was his answer when I asked him if he wanted to go catch some ‘Z’s. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, so I decided some bonding with my little brother was in order through the best activity a small child could partake in – roughhousing. For an entire hour we play-wrestled, then I gave him a piggy-back ride across the whole house. We played some horsey, where he would be on my back and I “tried” to shake him off, and some other stuff of that nature. By the end of it, we were both exhausted. I still managed to make him brush his teeth before he fell into my bed and dozed off. I wasn’t sleepy, though, so I browsed the internet for a few more hours. It was two in the morning when I decided enough was enough and went to sleep myself. I pulled an old mattress out of the closet and put it down right next to my bed now occupied by my brother. Promptly, I fell asleep before I managed to lay my head on the pillow.

Three huge bangs roused me from my sleep. It took me a moment before my brain stopped returning blank and actually decided to give me some information. Another bang and I was immediately on my feet. Looking at my bed I realized, to my now growing dread, that my brother wasn’t there. Horrifying thoughts of how the bangs originated from him falling down the stairs filled my mind and before I knew it, I ran into the hallway screaming out his name. Taking three steps at a time I found myself downstairs, but my brother wasn’t there, for better or worse. No more bangs could be heard so I started to look for him, calling out his name now and then.

“Michael?” No one answered me. I tried to flick on the lights, but they didn’t seem to work.

“Great, just great.”

Of course they wouldn’t work now. I went into a closet where I knew I would find a flashlight. Hitting myself on things along the way, I finally fumbled through the closet until I found a long and round object in a place where the flashlight should’ve been.

“Where’s the damn switch,” I mumbled. A moment later, a column of light illuminated the dark hallway. Now with the power of light on my side, I started exploring the house. I began with the kitchen, just to see if he hadn’t been hungry and decided to get something to eat. Never happened before, but I was fumbling for straws now, and any explanation was better than none.

“Michael, where are you?” I called out rather weakly. Why did I have to play all those horror games and read all those creepypastas? I just waited until something came running around a corner, holding the dead body of my little brother in its teeth and preparing to add me to its list of victims.

Then I figuratively slapped some sense into myself. That wouldn’t do, being scared shitless of something that didn’t exist. With a newfound confidence I started to explore more quickly and calling out his name more frequently. Again, nothing and no one answered me.

“This isn’t funny!” I yelled. This had to be some kind of joke he had been playing on me. Then a thought hit me. Perhaps he was in the bathroom?

A facepalm followed my realization. “Of course he’s in the bathroom you dumb idiot.”

I went to the bathroom and tried to open it. It wasn’t locked and an unnaturally dark bathroom greeted me instead of my brother.

“Holy hell,” I breathed, a puff of air assaulting my face. It was cold in there. Actually, it had been cold the entire time I had been downstairs. Without even looking further into the bathroom, I slammed the doors closed and ran away from the creepiness of it all.

“Michael, God dammit, where are you?!” Losing the last bit of my patience, I sped through the hallway and went to check the last place where the sounds could have come from.

The living room.

With fear of what I would find there, I opened the door.

And immediately got assaulted by a thick, semi-solid, purple, almost pink cloud of… something. It looked like a mist and trying to pass through it was like browsing through water.

A small hand tried to grab my by my clothing. As there was only one person to whom the hand could belong to right now, I immediately grabbed it back.

“Hold on, Michael!” I yelled and tried to pull him from the mist. It was all in vain when his damp hand slipped my grip.

“Nooo!” Screaming, I jumped into the mist not heeding my own safety. With flailing my arms around, I tried to reach out to my brother, to find him. I couldn’t breathe. The mist was too dense, too water-like to allow me to fill my lungs with fresh air.

And then it was all over. One moment I had been suffocating, and another moment I was on my knees, coughing. As I coughed my lungs out, I got my bearings. Michael lay shivering on the floor of the living room. A small layer of mist covered the entire floor, but no longer was it semi-solid. Rather, it was a purple colored true mist now.

“Peter!” he yelled out to me and ran up right into my embrace.

“Dammit Michael, you don’t get to scare me like this.” Gladness to find my little brother safe and sound filled my heart. At least I hoped he was alright. I checked him over and he seemed fine.

“Now, what the hell happened?” I asked him. The question of what the whole mist-thing was went unasked.

“I woke up, and… and I went downstairs.”

So much for an explanation.

“Any reason?” It didn’t really matter what he was doing here. I was more concerned about what the hell was going on, and that he was alright. This strange mist had to come from somewhere. Hopefully it wasn't toxic.

“I don’t know!” I could feel a damp spot forming on my shoulder.

“Never mind, let’s just get back upstairs and let me call mom and dad. There’s something strange going on.” With those words I got up from the floor and took his left hand into mine. He stayed really close to my leg as we neared the door. As I would find out, he wasn’t close enough.

I opened the door which was now closed for some reason. A gust of wind assaulted me and as I looked at where the hallway should have been, a vortex of purple light greeted me.

It had taken me one second exactly before I slammed the door shut.

“What. The. Hell!”

Then the goddamn walls started to peel off, being torn from outside by some invisible force. Oh, and the floor and the ceiling weren’t doing any better. Spots of bright purple light started to appear everywhere on the floor and ceiling.

Powerful wind filled the room and he furniture started to rattle. My brother and I stood dumbstruck as we watched the walls and the floor disappear. And then the floor underneath Michael gave out.

I held his hand, but it wasn’t enough. I tried to catch him but I wasn’t fast enough. I jumped after him, but it was for naught.

“Nooo! Michael!” I hollered after him as he cried out my name, disappearing into the vortex.

“Noooo!” I screamed until my voice gave out, tears welling in my eyes. The one thing was - I didn’t fall down after him. Instead, some invisible force caught me and pulled me back onto the floor that was no longer crumbling down. The door of the living room opened all by itself, showing me a picture of our undisturbed house.

And I realized that whatever had caused this, whoever had caused this, didn’t want me. It didn’t want me. It wanted my brother, but not me.

Sadness and rage waged battle over my mind. A sob escaped my lips.

The wind started to force me into the door. I had none of it.

“Fuck you!” I tried to yell at whatever was causing this. Fat chance, even if someone stood half a meter away from me they wouldn’t be able to hear me through that wind. It helped to easy my nerves, though.

“I ain’t leaving my brother!” Lying down on the floor, I started to crawl to the edge. The efforts to keep me out redoubled, but I was still able to move forward, a centimeter by a centimeter, until finally my hands grabbed onto the edge, and it was only a matter of strength to pull myself over. And that’s just what I did.

I screamed wordlessly as whatever the hell this was gave up and instead threw me up into the sky that was basically the same damned purple vortex.

The last thought I had before I blacked out was of my brother, tears streaming down his face as he called my name.

Something stirred within me. A thought, then light. And at last: recognition. Senses returned to my body, the feeling of lying on something hard that felt like a carpet assaulted my mind. And in the forefront of it all: a yell, a call for help.

And then I opened my eyes. It was dark all around. It didn’t occur to me as strange, so I stretched and tried to go back to sleep. A moment later, realization struck me like a wrecking ball. The events that followed my condition flooded back into my memory.

My brother was gone; taken.

A cloudless starlit sky greeted my vision. I gazed into the most beautiful night sky I had ever seen. For a short moment, I wasn’t confused, lost and hurt anymore. But that ended soon enough as a more pressing matter lay on my heavy mind; Where was I? And where was Michael?

I stood up, noticing that it wasn’t a carpet I thought I was lying on. No, it was a mix of something hard and soft that smelled like smoke. Accidently, I inhaled some of it, which brought me into another coughing fit.

That woke me up just perfectly.

“Michael?” I called out weakly, still coughing a little. A lovingly moonlit meadow surrounded me. I very much ignored the unfamiliar place I had found myself in. Instead, I started to search for the one I had come to save, somehow.

“Michael?”

There was nothing but the echo of my own shouting.

“Michael?!” This time more forceful than before. And yet, nothing answered me. No one answered me. The meadow was perfectly clear of anything but plants and the occasional tree.

A fluttering feeling settled within my heart and tears once again threatened to escape their confines within my eyes. Something glittered in the moonlight on the ground near me. I kneeled down to get a better look at it. It was a button of the pajamas my little brother was wearing when he was taken.

With utmost care I clutched it in my hands. It was just a button, but it was also the only thing connecting me to my brother right now. A lonely tear rolled down my face.

“Brother...”

Chapter 3: Meet the Griffins

Chapter 2: Pritouritze Planinata

I must have fallen asleep again, because suddenly there was a sun hanging in the sky. It was summer, thank God, but that didn’t mean the nights weren’t somewhat cold. And my clothes, now damp from dew, didn’t help much.

With a slight shiver I forced myself to my knees. I was still clutching my brother’s pajama’s button, so I pocketed it and made sure it wouldn’t fall out through some hidden hole or something.

And that was it. I had no idea what to do next. As I had said, I was in some kind of meadow located who knows where. I had no rational idea of how I got here, except that it had to be some supernatural forces that had caused this.

And most importantly, I had no idea where my brother was.

But I had to begin somewhere. And I began by searching my immediate vicinity in the light of the now dawning sun. I started by searching for any footsteps other than mine, but I wasn’t a tracker nor a hunter, so that wasn’t going too well. But it was all I could do.

The meadow was quite large, so the search took a good portion of the day. The meadow itself was then surrounded by a forest.

I had found nothing. The tracks didn’t reveal anything about my brother ever being there. Except for the little button from his pajamas, there was no trace of him in this meadow. He had to be somewhere else.

I concluded my search with a final holler of his name. Nothing but the sound of startled deer and the echo of my own voice greeted me.

I climbed to the middle of the meadow, which was basically a small hill. While I couldn’t see over the treetops where the forest had ended, I could see mountains jutting out from the ground a few kilometers from this place. And that was where I was headed just a moment later.

Good thing I still had my slippers on. I had no idea how they stayed on my feet all this time, but I didn’t care. The important thing was that I still had them. Otherwise going through this forest would have been painful as hell. It was actually painful even with them on, as the slippers had soft soles.

The forest itself looked somewhat different, unnatural. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was definitely something strange about it. And that got on my nerves really quickly. Every crack of twigs, every groan of trees in the wind would cause me to jump a little and start to frantically look all around me in panic.

To hell with this forest, I thought. It was also hard to keep my directions and not stray from my, well, path, for the lack of better word. It wasn’t like I knew where I was going. I just hoped that I was still headed to the mountains, as they would give me a focal point from which I could oversee the nearby lands, and perhaps find some signs of civilization with people that would hopefully help me. Or at least spot a river or something.

There were also a lot of wild animals prancing about. I had seen a few deer, rabbits, squirrels, and a lot of birds. They had all run away the moment they set their eyes on me.

By the time I left the canopy of trees and entered another meadow at the foot of one of the mountains, my throat was perched, my stomach had been eating itself, and my feet hurt. I still had the climb up the mountain ahead of me.

Then I focused on the mountain itself. Without the tree canopy blocking my view and with the sun framing the mountain in beautiful, golden light, I noticed something. I could see smoke rising from somewhere between two mountains – a small mountain valley. It was either a natural fire, or someone had been camping there, perhaps even living there.

Swearing like a sailor, while also filled with hope, I started the horrendous climb up the not-so-steep mountain to where the smoke was coming from, hopefully. The mountain wasn’t that tall, but I guessed it would take me the rest of the day before I got up there.

As I was climbing, I noticed that the area seemed to be heavily populated by birds. I mean, there was a whole lot of them up in the sky, fighting against each other and stuff. A fear of accidently stumbling across a nest and get attacked by birds made my throat clench even more. A long time ago, when I was a kid, I had seen a horror where a guy got attacked by crows and had his eyes pecked out. Not the greatest thing to see as a child, and as children usually are, I had a huge imagination. That horror movie, and that scene in particular, became THE nightmare of my childhood. So yes, I got pretty uneasy all of the sudden when I realized what monstrous beings occupied this mountain.

I had to take frequent breaks, not just to look at the sky all the time because of fear of being attacked by birds, but because my legs were hurting like hell. My stomach must have eaten itself by now, because I was getting a lot of cramps from my abdomen area. Not to mention it was hard to swallow even my own spit. At last the cramps got unbearable, so I had found a nice rock to sit upon and rest for a moment. I was getting serious thoughts of eating the grass and plants that grew in the rocky terrain here and there.

A nice sleep would do me some good, my mind told me, and my body listened happily to the alluring song of wind ringing throughout the mountains. As I looked upon the lands below, a beautiful view, outlined in the light of a setting sun, said hello to my tired eyes. Even the huge rock I had nestled on was really soft all of the sudden. And just before my sleepiness took me to a place where pain was nonexistent, I noticed the birds getting closer. And my last thought was of how huge they appeared to be.

My dreams were filled with sorrow.

The song of wind was replaced by the soothing crackling of fire. The coldness was replaced by warmness of home. And sleep; sleep gave way to a reawakened dull ache spreading throughout my body.

Rested, but still slightly tired, I forced my eyes to open as my mind finally noticed the difference between where I had been before I had fallen asleep and where I was now.

I’ve been lying on something soft compared to a rock and upon closer inspection, I discovered that I was lying on a neatly spread hay covered with a not-so-neat blanket. What caught my attention, however, was how big this prominent bed was. Three people could fit in here. This told me something else.

I was no longer outside, but rather in some cottage. It seemed like it was one of those one-room-only houses, like in the Middle Ages. I could see something that looked like a stove, except that there was a hole in it where an oven should have been, filled with ash and burning wood. A neatly carved table stood some ways away from it against a wall; four chairs made of the same wood stood spread around it. From my position, I couldn’t see anything else, as there was a wooden wall blocking my view. Actually, everything but the stove and a small space under the stove had been made of would.

What more I could see, though, was a cord hanging by the ceiling going from one corner of the room to the next. And from the cord hung strips upon strips of dried meat. I must say, the saliva I had produced at the beautiful sight could fill a reservoir. There was also a wooden bowl of water sitting on a small table – that looked more like a nightstand – near the “bed” I was now sitting on. Before a second passed, the bowl was empty and a dozen strips of meat were missing from the cord. I know, not the nicest thing one could do to some generous soul that had pulled me all the way to where I was now from the middle of nowhere and had borrowed his bed to me. But my satisfied stomach said otherwise.

I had lain down on the bed once more and had begun to doze off once again, when someone started to talk right next to me. I almost yelped out in surprise. Almost.

Another voice, more feminine and angry, answered the first. They spoke in hushed whispers, probably trying not to wake me up. What struck me as odd was the language, though. It was like nothing I had ever heard. It included a lot of clicking, chirping, and gutturally spoken vowels. I couldn’t imagine a human making these noises.

I kept my eyes close and my body from moving so I wouldn’t draw any attention to myself. The woman sounded especially angry, and I had a nagging suspicion that it was because of me.

Someone huffed and started to walk away, which sounded like he or she was walking on all fours.

The man muttered something under his breath and I could hear a squeal of wood as someone heavy had seated themselves on one of the wooden chairs. An irritating pang between my shoulder blades told me that his eyes were on me, watching me. Judging me. With the female gone, I thought it was the high time to “wake up”.

I yawned, stretched and rolled over so I could look at my host. I expected to see a heavily bearded, two meters tall lumberjack. Instead I got something far more surprising.

I yelped as I saw the terrifying visage of something alien before me. There, on a chair, sat not a man, but a creature that was a cross between a bird and a lion. My mind immediately conjured the term “gryphon”. But how could it be?

By this moment I knew I wasn’t sleeping. Could the prolonged starvation and thirst have caused this? But it didn’t really look like a hallucination. Though, I couldn’t tell, as I had never hallucinated before.

I mean, a mythical creature was sitting right there, staring at me with the same surprised expression as me! Wait, what?

It was looking at me with what I thought of as a dumbstruck expression, its beak open a little, eyes bulging. I couldn’t tell, honestly. Its “face” looked really different from a human’s. What I knew was that it didn’t look like a dumb animal. Its eyes shone with unbidden sapience.

When I finally decided to pick my jaw off the floor, I did the only thing my over-loaded brain could do.

“Umm… hello,” I said while weakly waving my right hand at him.

It moved its beak a little, before it said something in the same guttural voice accompanied with some hissing and clicking of its beak. It took me a while to process that it was talking to me. At least I hoped it was talking to me. For all I knew, it could have been chanting a sacrificial ritual dedicated to some blood god it was worshipping.

“I… I don’t understand,” I explained before realizing it didn’t really understand me, either.

The gryphon got out of its surprise quicker than me, and it started to use body language and gestures instead of words. It pointed at the cord where a dozen strips of dried meat used to hang, and then at a bowl which used to be filled with water. And not just some water. When I first took a sip of it, I almost chocked on it. It had been like pure awesomeness condensed into a drinkable beverage.

Not really understanding what it was asking, I decided to nod, and then I clapped my hands together and bowed a little, hopefully expressing my gratitude and not accidentally challenging him to a duel or something.

While our languages and bodies were completely different, it seemed that we could get across that language barrier through a bit of gesturing, because a smile graced his, ugh, beak – yeah, I don’t know how that worked; it also looked really weird and freaky – and he nodded back.

Yes, I accept your challenge to duel to death. Where and when?

A long, awkward silence fell heavy upon the room. He was just sitting there, looking at me, unsure of what to do, and I was sitting across from him on the bed – which now had a reason for being so large in my mind – in the same situation. Nothing was happening for a while before I stood up, walked across the room to him and… started to stroke the soft plumage on his head.

Holy shit, it really isn’t a hallucination.

I didn’t notice the look on his face, but if I were him, it would be something akin to “What the hell?” He suddenly stood up and walked away, my hand still hanging in the air where his head used to be. He was not as big as I had expected, his head maybe coming up to my chest. Mind you, he was on all fours; if he had been standing on his back legs, he would probably be two heads taller than me.

I didn’t ask him where he was going, as I knew it would be futile. We couldn’t understand each other. And most importantly, my mind was still recovering from the shock. While I had seen lot of movies and played a lot of video games, seeing something so… magical in person, right in front of my own eyes, and being able to touch it…

Now THAT was something.

Chapter 4: To reach for a broken man's dreams

Chapter 3: Meet the Griffins

I was fidgeting my feet a little. Ok, I was fidgeting my feet a lot. It wasn’t easy being stared at by four mythological creatures that apparently ate meat. And if they decided I was to be their next meal, I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. I just pray it'll be quick.

There was "the guy” of the family, the one that had tried to talk to me and whose head I had so unceremoniously petted to make sure he was real. I could see that he wasn’t so sure about me as he had been before.

The more feminine voice that I had heard when I woke up here belonged to a noticeable more female looking gryphon. She wasn’t happy to have me around her two children. At least I guessed those two small gryphons were her children. She had that motherly aura going about her. And I didn’t blame her for being angry at me. If you suddenly housed a completely alien creature that you couldn’t communicate with, you wouldn’t want him around your children.

Then there was this rather younger version of “the guy” – I really needed to learn their names or at least give them some names – who looked rather excited at the prospect of having a rather strange and unknown creature in their house. He wasn’t as tall as his father, but he had already outgrown his mother, so I guessed he was somewhere in the middle of his teen years.

And, at last, there was this little, completely adorable ball of feathers that hid behind his older brother. That one I couldn’t decide if was female or male just from looking at it. There wasn’t much to add.

We were now located in what looked like an ancient version of a living room. To my surprise, there was even a carpet on the floor. It was dirty as all hell, though. Not surprising, as they didn’t wear any shoes or anything, so if they came from outside with muddy pawns and talons, well, I didn’t know how they solved that.

I was sitting on something similar to the bed I had been sleeping on. Except that this one was more noticeably used.

Across from me a fireplace had been lit. The warm glow of a small fire crackling with joy illuminated the room with a soft light. It was still pretty dark in here, though, as there were no windows that would let any outside light in.

There was some other miscellaneous furniture and quite the number of shelves lining the wall filled with a lot of things I didn't know anything about and some trinkets. In one corner of the room there was an opened box, some toys were spread around it.

And that was really it. As I had guessed previously, the whole house was somewhat one-roomy, as there were no doors separating the different rooms.

They were talking to each other in whispers, presumably so I wouldn’t hear them or something. I couldn’t help but smile at the situation. It wasn’t like I understood them, anyway.

So, before they could decide whether to eat me or not, I stood up and interrupted them.

“Look, I appreciate your generosity in helping me not to die, but I really need to get going. I have to find my brother, and I already fear for his safety, because it must have been a day or so since I was… ugh… um… transported here.”

They just stared at me, uncomprehensive of what I was trying to say. I sighed, pointed at the door that was supposed to lead outside and then made a walking motion toward the door.

A collective response of comprehension filled the room. But “the guy”, whose name shall be Jack from now on, raised his eyebrow (yes, they had eyebrows that looked like a collection of miniature feathers above their eyes) at me.

How the hell was I supposed to gesture to them that somewhere out there my brother was lost?

Then I thought of something. Since they seemed to be pretty intelligent and they had things that were more “modern”, I tried to get it across to them that I wanted a paper and a pen by waving my right hand in the air while holding an imaginary pen around my left hand that, in turn, held some imaginary paper.

He seemed to understand what I wanted, hopefully, because he nodded and went somewhere.

And while we were waiting, the mother, whom I dubbed “Jessie”, said something to the older of the two children, and went somewhere else, too. He nodded and then sat near the fireplace right across of me. His younger sibling was still hiding behind him.

Then Jack came back with something similar of what I had in mind. Instead of a pen, though, I got a quill and some ink, and instead of paper I got some ancient looking, blank scrolls. Whatever, it would do. Then he sat near his children, intensely watching me.

With my legendary drawing skills I started painting the most complex of portraits I had ever drawn. Line by line, the miniature versions of me and my brother started to appear on the scroll. The gryphons were watching me with unconcealed awe.

It took me about five seconds before I was finished. Lo and behold, on the paper, two stick figures were drawn. One was twice the size of the other. You can guess which one belonged to me and which one represented my brother. I showed them the picture. They looked unsure of what to think of it.

I stood up and started going to the doors I guessed would take me outside. There was a column of light shining from a crack underneath them, so it was as good a guess as any. They followed me.

I was not prepared for the sight that greeted me.

A large mountain valley met my eyes. It was like a great canyon between two opposite mountains that were connected some hundreds of meters below. And at both opposite sides of the valley, houses and cottages were built into the mountains. There were almost no roads. It looked like if someone wanted to get anywhere, they would have to fly there.

The house I had been occupying with my presence had been located at the edge of said mountain valley, as to my right I could see a large forest beneath the mountains, sprawling everywhere the eye could see. I could even see the large meadow that in the forest itself looked like a bald spot on someone’s head.

To my left and directly across me at the opposite side of the valley, a lot more houses stood.

And I realized that there were a lot of gryphons flying abound. And some of them took notice of me. I also realized that I was standing at the edge of a cliff side. My fear of heights immediately took hold of me and before I knew it, I was practically glued to a wall of the house.

That, of course, amused the gryphons. Hell, they even laughed. Bastards.

After calming down a little, I joined them at the cliff side where they stood. Or at least I stood as close to them as I dared without getting a panic attack. Now, in the midday sun, I could finally see what they looked like in full. Jack was all brown, with spots of black on his chest now and then. Dark blue eyes bore into my very soul. All in all, he looked pretty dull, aside from the fact that he was a god damn gryphon.

His sons were more interesting, though, as they were more colorful. The older brother was mostly beige, with some brown feathers around his neck. His head plumage was mostly dark beige with dark brown at the feather tips. Mischievous green eyes skipped between me and his younger sibling standing by his right front leg. A pang of sorrow hit me at the sight of those two.

The cub, “Thomas” I decided to call him, was truly the miniature version of his father, with light brown feathers and light blue eyes.

Without further interruptions, I once again showed them the scroll and started explaining.

First I pointed at the bigger stick figure, then at me, hopefully getting the point that it was me across, and at last I pointed at the older brother whom I decided to call “Paul”. Before they could question my intentions, I continued.

I gesticulated at the smaller stick figure, and then I pointed at the adorable cub. And finally, I made a wild gesture across the entire forest spanning beneath the mountain, trying to tell them that somewhere out there, Michael was lost.

They didn’t get it.

“God dammit!” I practically yelled at them. I mean, I was losing my cool really fast. I didn’t have time for this dumbassery! I had to go and look for my brother. With each day that passed, the chances of finding him alive were getting thinner and thinner.

They were of course taken aback by my sudden outburst, looking at me while I was tearing my hair out in frustration. I knew I needed their help if I wanted to find my brother. With such a large forest, one person could never hope to search through it all in such a short span of time. Also, they could fly, which would be an invaluable help in finding my brother.

So I tried again. And again. By the time half an hour had passed, I was so frustrated and gesturing so wildly, I was practically dancing. That, of course, garnered me some attention of nearby flying gryphons. Soon enough, I had an audience of twenty gryphons watching me with amused expressions.

“Fucking hell!” I yelled out at last. The yell echoed through the mountain valley. “How can you be so… UGH!” I kicked some rocks that went flying over the edge of the cliff. When I finally turned back to them, the gryphons weren’t so amused anymore.

I didn’t care.

“Look, Jack!” my hand went flying to his face. He seemed mighty confused by that, if not a little threatened. I could see him preparing his claws in my peripheral vision. Again, I didn't care. I yelled “Jack” at him for about ten seconds, each “Jack” reinforced with me jabbing at his beak again and again, until finally, he raised a talon, not to strike me, but to his chest and said, “Jack?”

“Yes,” I nodded enthusiastically. “Jack!”

“Jack,” he repeated, a dawning recognition on his… face.

“Yes, Jack!”

“Yesjack?”

“No! Jack!”

“No-Jack?”

“God dammit, Jack!” He had to be doing this on purpose. He had to.

“Jack!” at last I said. He repeated and I nodded.

“Look, Jack, you have two sons or whatever. The older one is –“ I started pointing at the older of his sons, who stood by his side “– Paul, this guy right here. Paul!”

Jack put his left talon on his son's head, while Paul jabbed one of his claws at himself. “Paul,” they both said at the same time. Once again I nodded. They had some difficulty saying “P” since they had beaks and no lips. But it was good enough. And then my hands finally pointed at Thomas.

“Thomas.”

“Thomas,” they repeated. Even some of the other gryphons that came to see the spectacle of a human tearing his hair out were trying to pronounce the names I had given to those three.

Once they tasted the names a little, they pointed at me. Oh right, I didn’t tell them my name.

“Peter,” I answered their unspoken question. Once again, like a crowd of parrots, the gryphons tried to say my name out loud. In turn, I began to laugh at them as they tried to pronounce it and failed horribly.

When I had my share of fun, I interrupted them by swiping my right arm through the air. At last I indicated at an empty spot to my right and said, “Michael.” Their collective eyebrows went up.

I raised my hand at Paul and Thomas, as I said their names respectively. Then used the same hand to indicate myself and the empty spot while saying my name and my brother’s name. Then, once again, I made a large circle in the air at the empty spot, saying, “Michael.” Then, with both of my hand, I waved at the forest like a traffic cop telling a car where to go.

They tried to make heads and toes of it, but once again, they didn’t get it.

A very unpleasant feeling was bottling up in my throat, and before I could let that feeling out, Paul said something. And then he said it a little louder, understanding written all over his face. A long “O” sound escaped his beak. Then some words I didn’t understand. All the gryphons turned to him as he started saying something rather quickly, hopefully explaining what I was trying to get across. The other gryphons were soon in a similar state as he had been when he had gotten that look of understanding.

Some of those gryphons’ faces took a solemn turn rather quickly. That, of course, unnerved me little. Did they know something that I didn’t?

And that was basically how I got the gryphons to help me. Not just the family that housed me. Some gryphons I had never seen before joined us, too. But that didn't mean the gryphons weren't wary of me. To be honest, they were keeping an eye on me. They didn't make it exactly visible, but their looks betrayed their mistrust. A strange creature that we've never seen before enters our peaceful, reclusive village? Yeah, no.

My resolve strengthened with new-found allies. We organized a search party immediately. Well, at least they did while I was standing a little ways from them, smiling like an idiot.

Chapter 5: You are not prepared

Chapter 4: To reach for a broken man's dreams

Paul swooped down between the trees, me riding on his back, and with a mighty push of his wings landed on all fours. Immediately I jumped off of him and started hugging the ground.

The gryphons and I had been searching for my brother for seven days. And on the seventh day, we had officially searched through the whole forest. On the seventh day, the search had stopped.

Each of those passing days had torn some part of me apart; each day knowing that my brother was out there crushed my heart. I became apathetic to any reason, all I did was search. In that time, that was my only purpose.

The thought of him brought me to my knees, tears welling up in my eyes as I remembered the moment when I wasn’t fast enough, when I let him fall. And I couldn’t help but think about how my parents would have reacted. You failed us and your brother, I imagined them saying, scowls on their faces. And with the pain, sadness, and rage mixed in, I flexed my hands into fists and beat them against the ground until blood ran freely from my knuckles. The physical pain helped me forget. And, for the first time in my life, I learned that the really powerful emotions do exist, that it’s not something authors make up. It’s as real as the wounds on my hands.

On the seventh night I had cried myself to sleep.

After that, the gryphon family was the only light shining in this foreign darkness. They took me in, a completely unknown creature. They helped me. And the worst thing? I would never know why they decided to keep me around them. Why they decided to help me. Kindness of strangers? A hidden motive? Guilt? Understanding?

In those few days I learned that I wasn’t quite home anymore if the gryphons were any clue. No, I had seen a few maps of some of the regions of this world that I managed to get a glimpse at when the gryphons were organizing search parties, and it looked nothing like Earth. Especially when a lot of those maps were marking a lot of territories as unknown. That we weren’t on Earth didn’t terrify me as much as the prospect of a whole new world filled with the impossible, and thus eroding most of what I had been taught on Earth.

Soon I became the novelty of their little mountain village. Everyone would come to look at me, to touch me, to speak to me even though we couldn’t really talk through our language barriers. It really looked like humans weren't an often occurance. We managed to understand each other through gestures, though. Somewhat. And while the kids seemed to like me to some extent, the adults never stopped being suspicious of me.

When the search started, Paul had immediately volunteered himself to fly me around. I, out of my fear of heights, politely refused by shaking my head frantically.

He had none of it.

When I wasn’t looking, he swept down and caught me under my arms. And before I knew it, I was airborne.

“No! Put me down!” I screeched through the howling wind. I flailed my hand and my legs around in a vain attempt to make him let go of me. Not the cleverest thing when one was airborne. But panic was taking over every bit of common sense I had.

I accidently hit him in a rather sensitive area at the base of one of his wings. Needless to say, I wasn’t a feather-weight to begin with, so he had already been slightly struggling to hold me the entire time before I hit him. Thus, when it happened, he let go of me. While still being high above the ground.

I screamed profanities as the air whizzed around me in a much more intensive manner, the ground nearing closer and closer. I thought that was the end of me, when something caught me under my leg. It was no one other than Paul, who had the goofiest smile on his face.

When we landed, he immediately went into a fit of laughter and started rolling on the ground. I was rolling on the ground, too, but due to very different reasons.

That was the first day of our searching. The next six days, whenever we left at the morning, he demanded that he would carry me by wildly gesturing at his back. I didn’t object after that one horrifying flight, still didn't mean I liked it.

That was how the next seven days went. During the day we would search, and during the night I would be outside, looking at the forest until the cold wind would lull me to sleep. And even then I would always wake up in the warm, cozy bed I had woken up in the first time. I didn’t question it, but the old gryphon would always give me a knowing look.

And now, on the eighth day, I arrived at the place where it all began. The meadow.

One last look; that was all I asked, all I begged for. One last search to confirm that indeed my brother hadn’t been here.

And even though Paul and I had been searching for many hours, we never found anything. Not a trace.

The forest lay silent, and so did my heart.

A kingdom of stars stretched out above me to every corner of horizon, the throne of moon illuminating my every sorrow as I had gazed upon it, and seen nothing but beauty and the beauty of the world below me. I was clothed, and yet I felt so naked in its cold light.

I hummed a quiet song to calm me down, left unheard by anyone but me and the joyful wind, ignorant to my pleas for help, sweeping over the mountain tops, dancing over the plains with the eternal green guardians joining in with a dance of their own. Indeed, such untainted and unknown magnificence hid within my sight. And it was all within my reach. All I had to do was pluck it from the tree of life and it would be mine. But one thing, one fruit hanging way above had eluded my grasp, one life that meant everything to me.

Was it so cruel, so unimaginable to be offered the infinite yet longing for but one thing and one thing only? Was I foolish in my humility that but one thing was all I asked for?

It seemed to be, as the one thing I wanted the most stayed well out of my reach.

“Why?” was all I asked. The eternal question that would hold the answers. Why was I here? That was the obvious one. But was I in the right place? I remembered the vortex, the purple void. My brother fell down, while I went up. For all I knew, the vortex could have been the universe, and now I was somewhere completely else, somewhere far away.

Was I even in the right world?

Such a dangerous question. A few words that held all the answers. Was it futile to even hope to reunite with my brother in this place? Was he somewhere out there, gazing upon the stars as I was gazing now? Or was he here, looking at everything that I could see, yet not seeing each other? Was I to blame myself?

It wasn’t your fault. The wind whispered, barely noticeable, something at the edge of my mind and consciousness.

“I know.” Indeed I knew. But I had to ask, what would have happened if I had been standing just a little closer to him, just so I could reach his hands in time, to grab him and prevent his fall into the darkness, to prevent his fall from grace. Would we still be separated?

What was matters not. What could have been matters not.

“Will I ever find him? Is it even possible to find him?”

What shall be matters not.

The future is written by winners, while the losers stood small. The future was shaped by our hands. We were the masters of our destiny, were we not? For if everything had been written, what purpose was there to life?

What is now…

“That matters,” I finished. I clenched my fist, my gaze hardened. It would help me not; to gaze into the past, to dwell in it. And to gaze into the future, and ask what will be, would be fruitless. Only the presence mattered. Only my present actions would bear the fruits of my labor.

I was in a world unlike Earth. It was an impossible place. And yet here I was. Something impossible had brought me here. And something impossible could reunite us.

Was my brother here? I knew not. But if he was, I would find him. I will find him. And I will find him alive. But I needed to learn more about this world if I were to even have that chance. I had to prepare for a journey without an end.

The forest lay silent, but my heart; my heart would beat once more.

It was dawn, and with it a new hope had arisen. If I were to venture into the great unknown, I would need to be able to understand at least on some basic level one of their languages. Something that was used in a lot of places, like English in our world. Or I would need someone to express themselves for me. But I didn’t want to drag anyone into my problems anymore, unless they explicitly offered to help. However, I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to leave this village with me. None of them really trusted me in full, what were the chances they would abandon their lives here just for some risky quest to search for something, or in my case, for someone?

I would also need to know what the geography of this world was, what were the different countries, what different species were sapient beside the gryphons (if there were other sapient species), if there were even humans in this world beside me and, hopefully, my brother; what were the “specialties” of this world. As this looked like a completely different world from Earth, I couldn’t take anything that was certain on Earth for granted here. And I really do mean anything. I could swear I had seen some of the gryphons moving the clouds around, but I never once questioned it out loud beside in my mind, since I was so focused on doing the one thing I could.

And that was just the general knowledge. The equipment I would need to be able to permanently stay on the road boggled my mind, because I wasn’t certain what I would need. I mean beside the obvious.

I also needed some new clothing. Badly.

There was no rooster to announce the beginning of a day, there was no light to enter the room I had slept in to indicate that a new day was dawning. There was only the intuition. And the noise beside my bed. I learned soon enough that I was actually sleeping in the “kitchen” portion of the house. My guess why there was a bed in the kitchen? Besides the living room, it must have been the warmest place in the house since there was constantly something boiling, cooking, and brewing.

Mama gryphon was always the first one to wake up so she could prepare a breakfast for the whole family and me. The breakfast itself consisted mostly of meat, some dried fruit, and a whole tankard of water. There wasn’t even bread, just the dried or cooked, unsalted meat and the occasional fruit.

And while they were eating and talking, I would always sit there silently, deep in thought. But not today. They didn’t seem uncivilized and they weren’t illiterate, as I had seen Jack a few times counting and writing something. Either they were home-schooled, or there was a school nearby. I intended to find out and perhaps attend a lesson or two. Yeah, I was already able to see it, me sitting in a room full of kids.

With a small cough I got the attention I required. Without even having to ask, Jack handed me some blank scrolls, a quill, and some ink, all of which he was keeping around if I needed something. While I wasn’t the best at drawing, I could still get the point across through simplistic caricatures and childish drawings.

I drew what I hoped looked like a school. I also drew a lot of small gryphons around it and one large gryphon with glasses, a book, and a top hat. I didn’t count on them knowing what those things, except of the book, meant, but it was still something I chuckled a little about.

They stayed silent for quite some time. I couldn’t tell if they were trying to figure out what the hell was I trying to “tell” them, or if they were contemplating what the hell I wanted to do in a school. I hadn’t really “told” them about my plans of leaving their peaceful little village and going on a grand search beyond the boundaries of what the eye could see. I hadn’t really told them anything since the search was canceled.

Jack said something out loud, blinking a few times. The others nodded in what looked like surprise. The small kid looked ecstatic, saying something repeatedly over and over again. So I tried to say it too, hopefully hinting them that I tried to learn something at least on a basic level. After all, I didn’t know how long I was going to stay in this world; if I would ever leave, that is.

I wasn’t quite successful, the whole chirping and clicking of the beak not so easily replicated with only mouth. While to them it came naturally as a part of opening and closing their beaks, I had to do it manually with my teeth. Plus it didn’t sound quite right.

They laughed a little at my try. Then Jack shrugged, turned to me and said something.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” I replied. He just smiled that creepy smile of theirs and nodded. Oh yeah, it was learning time. God dammit, I know I’ll hate myself for this. But what must be done…

Must be done.

Interlude: Life with the Griffins

Chapter 5: You are not prepared

The water was too damn cold, but it had to be done. I stank as all hell.

I once read that if you want to wash with cold water, you should wash your face first to kick in some survival instinct or something like that. Well, it wasn’t working, ok? I still whimpered as the water poured all over me. I quickly got out when I was wet enough (ha, ha), and started to apply soap everywhere on my body. The soap itself was a blob of gray substance that didn’t stink, but didn’t smell nice either. Whatever it was, though, got the job done.

Another whimpering-filled shower later, I was all nice and clean. I left the “room”, as it was less than that. Wooden walls and wooden floor, while the ceiling was nothing but a cavern ceiling in which a hole has been dug. From that hole an endless stream of water was falling into another barred hole in the floor. There were about five of these rooms some ways down the mountain beneath the village. As I thought, neither of the houses seemed to possess a semblance of a bathroom. And I was right. They had public toilets and public showers like these. Why? My guess would be the lack of space. Try building a big house on a steep mountain without the aid of modern technology, even more an entire freaking village.

While I was drying in the sun and freezing my ass off in the cold wind, mama gryphon was taking care of my clothes. By that I mean, she was cleaning them off. They were turning more into rags than anything each passing day, but it was all I had. I just hoped there was a clothier in the village. There had to be.

And there was. After my clothes were clean again, Jack seemed to sense my distress over the lack of warm clothes, so he took me to the village’s tailor. We entered through a narrow door into a circular room with racks and shelves full of fabric, leather, and other tools required for tailoring. A few mannequins of different sizes were spread around the room, too. In the middle of the room was a dais with mirrors all around it.

The tailor, a rather old male gryphon with grey plumage, took some of my measurements, let me choose from a variety of different fabrics and leathers, and got to work. I noticed some weird lamps that had lumps of glowing crystals in them. They managed to illuminate the whole shop really well. Before I had a chance to take a closer look, we were ushered out of the shop. I was really interested in how those worked, but I couldn’t really ask anyone. Deciding to visit the shop later, we left.

The sun was hanging well in the middle of the sky, signaling that midday was in full swing. Plenty of time left with not much to do. I mean, there wasn’t much to do after the search had been canceled, and bothering my hosts wasn’t a good way to spend my time if I wished to sleep in a bed rather than under the open sky.

The small cub, Thomas, must have been in school or somewhere outside, because he wasn’t home. Yes, I called it “home” now.

“Thomas?” I asked.

Mama gryphon – ugh, what name did I give her, again? I know that it was something on “J”. I’ll just call her Jessica, then. – turned to the paper – or scroll, if you prefer – I had left earlier this morning on the table and pointed at it. On it was a picture of school I had drawn. I took it that Thomas was at school.

Jack was out somewhere, but soon enough he was back home. He nudged me to come with him, so I did. And by that I mean I was grabbed under my arms and lifted into the air. Again.

A not-so-fun moment later I was standing in front of a small building with a bell on top of it. Not surprisingly, it was made of wood painted brown and yellow. A small tower protruded from the middle of the building’s roof, a small brass bell on top of it.

I was actually surprised to see that the building had some windows. There were two windows at the front of the school, through which I could see two different rooms filled with small gryphons. Without further ado, I and Jack made our way into the building through some narrow doors.

The hall was quite big for how small the building was. Along with the lamps filled with shining crystals, childish drawings were hung on the walls on both sides. Only seven doors lined the hall, two by each side, one at the end of the hallway, and the last ones behind us. Otherwise the hall was barren of anything. I couldn’t help but clench my fists and scrunch my face a little at the depressing sight. This looked more like a prison than a place of knowledge.

We made our way to the door at the end of the hall, me and Jack being able to barely walk side by side. Jack raised his talon in a fist and gently knocked on the door a few times.

A muffled shout from the other side was all that he needed to open the door and enter. The Sun’s glare greeted me through a window directly opposite of us. The room, unlike the hall, was quite homely, the walls lined with something I haven’t seen yet—bookshelves filled with books. An oriental carpet covered the entirety of the wooden floor. Beneath the window, a leather-bound chair was occupied behind an old wooden desk.

In the chair sat – more like sprawled – a gryphon. Or should I say—a gryphoness? Oh yeah, by that look on her face I could already tell that she would be a handful, probably one of those gryphons that didn’t like me that much.

She started gibbering like a man possessed when she saw me. Jack didn’t like the tone of her voice, so he started arguing back.

“Look, people, I don’t have the time nor patience for this!” I interrupted them with a shout. That shut them up.

“I know you probably don’t like me that much, if your reaction was any indication” – I turned to the gryphoness – “but I need some knowledge of what I am getting myself into before going out there, you know?”

She didn’t know, of course, but I still hoped somewhere deep within my heart that she did. If only to experience some relief from the whole language barrier annoyance. I was really, really getting frustrated with how no one ever understood me. Thank God for the power of gesticulation at least.

Then she raised a talon to her chin, furrowing her brows. I noticed that gryphones really like to play with their chins or something, because whenever I saw a gryphon concentrate they usually stroke their chin with their claws. Jack stood like a soldier on guard, unmoving, unyielding.

At long last she flicked her talon away at Jack and me. Jack inclined his head a little, the corners of his beak raised somewhat. Looked like the mission was a success.

Not long after that whole awkward situation, and another flight of dread, a knock on the door interrupted me. Jack had flown somewhere again, leaving me with his wife in the house. Since Jessica was cookin’ up something again, I decided to raise my ass from the floor and answer the door.

“Hold your horses,” I muttered under my breath as I reached out toward the door and swung it open.

Behind the door stood an older-looking gryphon, gray plumage with yellow dark strip of feathers running from his neck down over his chest, abdomen and all the way to the fluff at the end of his tail. In one claw he was holding a number of books.

He said something, to which I raised an eyebrow. He let himself in, apparently thinking that I was inviting him for some reason.

“Please, do come in,” I said aloud, irony lacing every word, as he was already behind me. I pushed the door shut.

He seemed to know where to go, as he made his way into the living room where I was resting mere moments ago. I followed him, and so did Jessica who seemed not even slightly troubled that someone had let himself in without as much as giving a hello. Was I missing something?

Jessica and the bookworm exchanged a few clicks and words, to which Jessica left the room. That left me and him standing there. He seated himself on the floor right across me, so I did the same. It hurt my ass, but still better than standing I guess.

He pulled out a lamp with a shining crystal out from a small bag that was previously hidden beneath his wing, so it escaped my notice. He put it near the stash of books he had brought with himself. As I settled my eyes on them, I saw a lot of books with a lot of pictures and colorful text. And I immediately knew it was going to be fun.

It wasn’t. He didn’t realize I could not read their strange alphabet, so we had to start with that rather than dipping into the language itself. I don’t know how to describe the style of their writing. It had a lot of lines, though. And as he was reading them, he seemed to make no clicking sounds at all. In fact, it sounded like a whole different language. I would have asked, but… you know.

As he was making me read and memorize the sounds of all those letters, he was also trying to make me write a few words, probably to get a hang of writing the different letters in fast succession. It did not go too well.

And that was one lesson. He left me some of the books so I could list through them and do some heavy studying. And that was how I spent the rest of my day.

A week later, I had a whole better grasp of their language. I would dare say, I got some basics down. The language that dude was teaching me wasn’t so hard. It wasn’t easy either, though, as I had to figure out most of it by myself, as he couldn’t just explain it to me. Don’t get me wrong, though. I still knew jack shit. I barely had the basic grammar down, much less any words that I could use. But I was dedicated to learning as much as I could, however I feared time was not on my side.

Though, we weren’t learning just the language. He showed me a lot of maps, detailing the known regions of the world. And let me tell you, it looked nothing like Earth. Go figure.

He also showed me a book filled with different animals. I wanted to see what wondrous creatures occupied this world and wanted to learn as much about them as I could. But… there were just too many. I am talking hundreds of them. From freaking dragons to the smallest of critters, this world sure was colorful in its variety of mythical species. I did a double-take on the whole dragon business. This world just got a whole lot more dangerous. I think I also saw a unicorn in there.

Another week passed, and my restlessness grew.

“Frell this, I need to get going,” I whispered into the wind, an edge in my voice. What would you have me do? The longer I waited, the higher the chances of finding my brother’s battered body somewhere by a road. And the more paranoid I got. These gryphons were warming up to me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of some hidden conspiracy against me going on. That feeling came out of nowhere, but it was still there and it made me do irrational things.

I was currently overlooking the forest, a shimmering green sea in the breeze, and thinking about what I had so far. A basic knowledge of language? I could already say a few words and I was getting a hang of the delicate, yet easy to understand infrastructure that made this strange language. It wasn’t taxing on the mind or on the tongue, so it was “going in” easy, so to speak. It still sounded like rubbish to me, though. With permission (through some intense gesturing) I was able to keep a map or two of the local region, which would come in handy once I was on the road.

I also got a few matching pairs of clothing done, mostly leather, but also some wool for the colder weather. All I needed was a bag, a weapon, and some food and drink. Water was here aplenty, so I would need something to store it in.

A deep breath to clear my thoughts, and I made my way inside the cottage.

Jack looked up to me as I passed him sitting neatly in the hay couch, reading something.

“I need a bag,” I replied to his questioning look. Did I mention I could finally read their faces?

“Help?” he said in Balderdash, as I liked to call the language.

“Yes.” I picked up a random bag with a strap. I beat a fist against it a few times while saying, “to me,” because I didn’t know how to say “for”.

He started to stroke his chin, before a smile graced his face.

Soon enough, I found myself at the tailor again. Except that we were in a completely different section of the building. What I realized was that this was really the entrance, and the way me and Jack entered the building previously must have been the back entrance. I figured the tailor probably didn’t want me to be seen with him previously, for whatever reason.

There, on all different kinds of mannequins and racks were displayed different types of clothing and accessories, along with the things I needed, like a bag that I could drab over my back and a waterskin. Huzzah.

I didn’t have any money, but that wasn’t really a problem. Jack was an awesome guy that seemed to insist on paying this for me. He had probably already guessed why I wanted those things by the time he was done buying them. The bag itself wasn’t really that big, but it was the only one that I could comfortably wear, so I had to get only the really essential things.

Then we went shopping into some other stores and a blacksmith. First we managed to secure one of those crystal lanterns. I tried to get the crystal out of it, but Jack batted my hand away with a firm shake of his head, scowling.

He also got me a small, short rope, flint and steel, some lightweight blankets, some dried meat and ancient-looking bread. Finally, we glided down to a plateau higher up the valley, where a not-so-small house stood. What struck me as odd, though, was that it wasn’t made of wood, but stone. Jack pushed inside through the front, wooden doors, and I followed him.

The heat inside was a complete surprise to me when I stepped over the threshold. It was like entering tropical savanna, a stark contrast to the cold outside. I coughed a little as the hot stale air assaulted my lungs. I could also taste iron.

Around the room hanged racks and display shields with different things, from tools to weapons. I didn’t really care for the tools as much as for the ample selection of weapons. From the smallest of carving knives, through axes, to two-handed swords; it was all there. Upon closer inspection I even noticed some rather strange and exotic weapons, like a trident, a whip, an awl, and so on.

“Holy hell,” I breathed out, looking around frantically. Jack seemed unfazed, but looked rather amused when he looked at me and my open mouth.

Behind a counter in the middle of the room stood a young gryphon that had a dirtied apron tied around his neck and chest, looking tired.

A banging could be heard from the closed doors behind him.

Jack walked over to him with short, deliberate steps, a business-like aura emitting from him. He seemed wary of the young gryphon, just as the gryphon was wary of me. Yeah, he didn’t trust me and he made no effort to hide it.

Jack engaged him in a conversation, sometimes gesturing at the different weapon racks. They bickered for a while, until the young gryphon sighed and, with downcast head, lead us to the racks. He turned to me and asked something. I guessed he asked something along of what I wanted to get.

It was a tough decision. One couldn’t go wrong with a standard sword, of course. And that would be my first go-to weapon, but I really wanted to try the different weapons.

I tried to flail around a… well, a flail. I almost instantly made my head a pudding, so I put it away with an almost reverence. I couldn’t imagine myself fighting with that without hurting myself much.

A mace was, well, a mace. The head of the mace menaced with spikes. It was basically the flail without a chain. I put it back almost immediately. There were some other maces that were just plain blunt weapons. I thought about getting one, as I didn’t really want to kill anyone sapient.

I sifted through the other kinds of weapons, like daggers, axes, pole-arms, two-handed weapons, iron-reinforced clubs—also with menacing spikes. I even tried the trident.

In the end I settled on a small one-handed axe that could also be utilized outside of battle, a really small dagger that could be hidden somewhere on my body quite easily, and a blunt mace for the more serious combat. I didn’t take a sword, not only because I didn’t want to overstay my welcome on Jack’s wallet, but also because I didn’t know how to fight with a sword, at all. Yeah, movies and video games do show you something, but it’s nothing like the reality of holding one. I wouldn’t be able to defend myself with one even if I wanted to. At least with a small dagger and a small axe I had the advantage of speed and mobility. And the mace could do some serious damage without killing, though I would still need to be careful with it. A good placed strike could kill just as easily as any other weapon.

“What the hell am I doing?” I muttered under my breath while I was holding the dagger in one hand, and the axe and mace in the other. The dagger came with a sheath and a strap, while the axe and mace came only with a strap with which I could wrap it around my waist or something. I would have to be careful not to accidentally chop myself into pieces on the axe.

I tenderly sat on Jack’s back again, my legs tightly clasped around his sides and chest. Even after all this time, I still would get all jittery when taking off into the air. The fear of height was just rooted too deeply inside my psyche.

Another tears-inducing flight later, and we were back in the cottage, just in time to have another lesson with my “professor”. He was a cool guy, but stern and easily frustrated. Didn’t like me, but that didn’t stop him from coming again and again. I think he saw me as some kind of challenge, a puzzle to be solved, a jigsaw to be completed.

All in all, it was shaping up to be one hell of a journey. After all, an entirely different world lay out there, filled with wonders deemed impossibly on Earth. I couldn’t help but be taken aback in awe.

But then I remember why I was here, and my throat clenches.

Chapter 7: The gryphon, the picture, and the road

Chapter 6: Even a journey of a thousand miles...

Sitting again at my usual place, because I had nothing better to do, I pondered about the circumstances of my upcoming journey. Did I have everything I needed? Was I missing something?

A silhouette against the afternoon sky interrupted my thoughts. Squinting a little, I noticed that the shape was getting closer. And it flew straight at me.

My first instinct was to duck, to hide behind a rock from the to-be attacker. Perhaps someone finally decided to take their hatred for me to a whole new level. I didn’t know if I should feel flattered or scared. Thankfully, I had decided to keep my dagger around my midsection, hidden from sight by my baggy shirt, at all times. One could never be careful enough, etc.

Following my instincts, I leapt down from my sitting place and soon enough my ass was uncomfortably pressed against the cold ground instead – right behind a giant boulder. My right hand went under my shirt until I felt the leathery handle of my dagger.

My fears vaporized when the gryphon made an amazingly smooth landing where I had been sitting just a moment before.

“Dammit, Jack!” I breathed out and left my hiding place, hand no longer on the dagger’s grip.

“Hi!” He practically yelled out, skipping in place in excitement.

“Hello to you, too.”

Before anything else could be said – not that there was much else to say – he patted his back a few times. Rolling my eyes, I went over to him and seated myself on his back. My hands gripped the plumage of his neck and… Wait. Was that blood?

I yelped and it took all my acrobatic skills not to fall off when he suddenly lurched forward, wings extended. He must have been really excited. Normally he would give me at least a small warning, so I knew when to pray to God that I wouldn’t fall.

But one thing I learned from all those flights was that the ability to fly without planes or any devices was… overwhelmingly enjoyable. It was freedom. And while I clung to the gryphon for my dear life out of fear, I couldn’t help but yell in both fear and happiness when he dove into an opening in the tree canopy.

But soon enough, my cries of adrenaline were replaced with squeals of pain as the twigs of trees assaulted me from all sides. Damned things slashed me across my back and arms, scratching them a little.

Jack squawked and landed in a little clearing with absolutely no trees. Why the hell he decided to go through the trees was beyond me. But from the ephemeral little smile of his, I had a pretty good guess why. Masochist. I could practically see the words in his eyes, “All in good fun.”

When I stopped shaking, I finally noticed the acrid smell of metal in the air. The unmistakable stench of a certain red substance. Jack seemed to notice that I noticed, because he stepped over to me and nodded. I didn’t exactly know why he did that, but I still nodded anyway.

He rolled his eyes and nodded again. It took me a second to process that he wasn’t really nodding at me, but rather at something behind me. So, I turned around.

And lo and behold, a pitiful sight lay under the forest’s shadow. Matted brown coat riddled with slashes oozing drying blood. A back leg swollen and bent into the wrong direction. Broken antlers.

But the worst… the worst was the face. Soulless, black pools of eyes wide open, and a grimace, one of pure terror, etched into its face.

Has it been… had it been sapient?

No, it couldn’t, some part of me reasoned. I’ve known Jack for a little while now. He wasn’t a brute; a killer. He was a family person. He would never kill anything sapient. After all, he didn’t kill me, a completely strange and unknown creature.

A shiver crawled down my spine as I beheld the deer once more in its full, terrifying glory, a display of death.

With a leap of his wings, Jack jumped over to the deer, a certain pride to his movements. After all those weeks, I forgot that he was still a predator. A hunter.

And in that moment, where he stood above the bloodied corpse, I could see the unveiled beast of prey. And boy, would I hate to not be on his side.

Slowly turning his head to me, a talon raised, beckoning me closer. With a small gulp and an urge to discard my lunch, my legs carried me over to his side. Then, from behind the corpse, he pulled out a freaking skinning knife. He held it in his talons with a certain reverence to it. And with just a single look, I could see that it had been used. Extensively.

And then he handed it to me. At first I shook my head, but he was pretty insistent. By that I mean that he practically shoved it into my face, his eyes hardened into a piercing gaze. I mean, what was I supposed to do but take the knife?

What followed next was kind of bloody. No, wait, it was really bloody. When his talons were no longer occupied, he picked the corpse by its back legs, and with some ropes – that were too placed behind the corpse – tied them to some of the sturdier branches of the tree, the deer’s abdomen facing us.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen someone butcher anything before, but it isn’t nice. Especially when Jack wanted me to do it all mostly by myself, him only sometimes guiding me.

Those soulless eyes haunted my nightmares that night. But the trade off was worth it, I guess. Now I knew how to butcher animals, and all those animal-like sapient beings.

Yay, me… yay, me.

After three weeks of showering in nothing but cold water, I got somewhat cold resistant. The mountain wind no longer bothered me. But that might have been because of all the clothes I wore.

Paul and I were just returning from one of these showers, when a commotion stirred his flight path to all that ruckus.

Our arrival, however, made a ruckus of its own. You see, there were some new gryphons that I had never seen before. And also a miniature pegasus.

I think my jaw dropped a little as I watched the small creature while Paul went in for a landing. And when we finally landed, everything went silent. God, I hate those awkward silences.

If the carts full of stuff weren’t any indication, the outfits those gryphons and the pony wore would be more than enough to tell me who they were. By the way they they looked at me, they’ve probably never seen a creature like me before, which only solidified my belief that I was the only human far and wide. I didn’t know if that was good or really bad – considering my brother.

“Hello.” I raised my right hand a little and waved it. Must’ve been a funny display, me sitting on Paul and jerking my hand back and forth.

“Good day,” one of them replied uncertainly. Hah, I actually understood that.

“And that is where my knowledge of that language ends,” I added just for the comedic value of being able to say whatever the hell I want without anyone understanding a single word I said. Hey, at least the language barrier isn’t all that useless.

I tried to get off Paul, but as the universe would have it, I had to make a complete ass of myself. I stumbled a little, not enough to fall, but enough to hurl me forward and right into… Jack. Thank God it was Jack at least.

When I straightened myself, finally, I didn’t even bother to try to look like I fit or something. I just didn’t care. The first impression was now swimming somewhere at the bottom of the sea of shame.

“Nice weather today, right?” I barked a forced laugh, hoping they would catch onto it and laugh too. Laughter was, after all, infectious. But damn, they had to have one hell of an immunity system, because instead of falling into fits of giggling, they just kept staring, dumbfounded.

Soon enough, my mirthless chuckle died a horrible death and silence reigned supreme again. I also realized something.

Diseases could become a huge problem. A completely different planet with different flora and fauna would probably have different diseases and stuff, too. I was either incredibly lucky so far, or maybe our worlds weren’t so different after all.

Or, I had one hell of an immunity system, too. I really hoped it was the last one. Dying of alien diseases wouldn’t be anything pleasant.

Thankfully, before the silence could kill us all, the children came. A wave of adorableness and feather-balls hit us all like a tsunami, and soon enough the air was filled with merriment. The adults quickly caught onto the sudden change of mood and the bartering began once again.

Unnoticed, I moved out of the crowd, searching for the creature that had drawn my attention earlier. While it was smaller than the gryphons, it was more colorful than most of them, so finding it wasn’t so hard. And I discovered that I wasn’t the only one looking for a strange creature. So, instead of following it, I made it follow me. Making sure it saw me, which wasn’t all that hard, I made my way to the edge of the crowd. My tired legs made me sit down on a smooth rock that was placed conveniently near three others of similar sizes and smoothness.

It didn’t take long before the pegasus sat down next to me, looking anywhere but at me. I didn’t have that problem, so I just looked directly at it.

“What?” was the only thing that came to my mind out of all the words I knew. Which was the problem. I didn’t know any.

It muttered something.

“Yeah, I don’t speak moon language.”

That made it look up at me. And holy hell, those eyes. It was like staring into two satellites. They were big and just… big. How did those even fit into its head?

She spoke, this time loud enough for me to hear it. And yeah, it was a “she”, alright.

And that’s where my plan ended, really. I didn’t know what much to say, or do. I was really curious about her, but there was no way for me to ask. Hey, now I knew not to try to buy a horse or something. At least not legally. Not that I would try to… or anything like that.

The pegasus seemed to hit the end of her patience, as she slowly got up.

“Peter,” I said suddenly, right hand extended towards her. She kinda raised an eyebrow – an actual eyebrow – at me, so I said my name again while pattering my chest with my left hand. Her eyes lit up with comprehension and she said something, presumably her name, and lightly bumped the top of my fingers with her hoof. That worked too, I guess.

Now, with the formalities out of the way, the chokingly awkward atmosphere vanished altogether. She actually smiled, which seemed a whole lot more normal than a gryphon’s, so I smiled too.

She turned around, tilting her head a little. I realized she was telling me to follow her, and I did. We cut through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. Wherever we went, the gryphons spread out to make space for us, hushed whispers following in our wake.

She stopped near a little cart, smaller than the gryphons’. It was packed full, though, and covered with a blanket that was tied around the cart. With a swift movement of her jaws, she somehow untied it all and let the blanket drop, revealing trinkets and small chests/cases of all kind.

Using her hooves, the pegasus opened one of the small jewelry cases. And holy hell, she was freaking rich! Gold, jewels, even honest-to-god diamonds!

With a bored expression, she sifted through the fortune like it was nothing, until she found something at the bottom of the case. Her eyes brightened and she pulled out a rolled up scroll tied with a red string. She held it in in the crevice between her bent hoof and ergot.

“What is it?” I asked, and as if sensing my question, she handed it over to me. The yellowy scroll looked rather new, so I didn’t have to fear about it crumbling at my touch. I undid the tie and let the scroll unroll.

On it was a drawing.

A drawing of a human child.

Announcement (because no one reads Author's blog posts, and it makes me a sad author)

Chapter 7: The gryphon, the picture, and the road

Holy hell and all that’s holier. A freakin’ picture of a human child. Or, to be more precise, a drawing of a human child. And while the face of the child was rather indescribable and so I had no way of knowing whether it was a drawing of my brother or not, it still kindled a warmth within my soul.

“Where?” The simplest question that could yield the most important answer.

She was thinking ahead of me, already pulling a map from somewhere by her teeth. Oddly enough, no saliva stained the old parchment. With a motion too quick to a human eye, the parchment rolled open down from her mouth and onto the gravel beneath her hooves. From a quick look, before she lowered the map completely onto the ground, I was able to identify the village of… something – meaning the village I had been occupying with my mighty presence for a while now – I honestly couldn’t read their written language just yet, but I did identify the set of glyphs that matched those of the signs spread around the borders of the village.

I stepped over to get a closer look, my shadow menacing upon the yellow, grainy texture of the map. I could see upon closer inspection that it had been used extensively, tears and hoofprints all over the map, sometimes making certain places illegible, or wiping some towns, lakes and other smaller locations off the map completely. But the most important bits were all there.

She jabbed a hoof at far corner of the map, to which I turned my gaze. Lifting her hoof a little, I beheld a big dot, a huge city, its name an elaborate, yet beautiful series of glyphs. The regality of it screamed at me. I memorized the glyphs.

“Thank you.” A bow, a smile of gratitude, and I was off to find Paul or Jack to take me back home. There wasn’t time to waste. The journey had to begin, and it had to begin now if I wished to increase the likelihood of my brother being alive.

“Home.” The word didn’t need translation, as the meaning of all it represented was enough to get across all the language barriers of the world. One of the dearest things in everyone’s life. One’s home. It could change, it could be denied, it could be inaccessible, but one always needed a home, no matter what. Be it the place you were born, the house you grew up in, the room you had sub-leased, the place where your friends were, the road you wandered on. If one doesn’t have a home, then the person suffers greatly.

The word was muttered, the wings were spread, and soon enough, Paul and I were on our merry way “home”. Soon, though, soon it would not be so. The road was to become my next home.

I could see the questions ravaging in his head. The youngling must have sensed that something about me had changed. I would, too. Suddenly, the surety of someone with a clear goal laced my every step, my stride the stride of those confident in their mission.

The crooked doors opened, letting light and the smell of mountain grass into the dwelling, banishing the stale smell of smoked meat. From the room to my left, the clicking of dishes, pots, and other various cooking necessities could be heard banging to the rhythm of a chirpingly-joyful singing. Jessica was cooking again, and boy did she enjoy herself.

We went right to the living room, where Thomas was destroying the house by attempting to dance to his mother’s song. Even through his malignant annihilation of all that stood in his way, he still managed to make it incredibly cute. His older sibling didn’t seem to share the same opinion, as he immediately sidestepped me and caught his brother in a mid-leap by his wing, stopping him.

My gear lay silent in the corner, packed and prepared to be taken at short notice, should I wish to leave this place in a flash. Before I knew it, I strapped my mace to my right hip, it being my main go-to weapon, and held the rucksack in both my hands. The brothers eyed me carefully, almost sadly.

“It’s time,” I tried to explain. Their eyes pierced me and I had to look away. “Preparations need to be made.” Muttering under my breath, I went back outside into the sun, where I could rummage through my rucksack and see if I had everything in it. Blankets, flint and steel, a carving knife – as if I didn’t have enough weapons already – that Jack had given me after my first…

I shuddered a breath as the unpleasant memory of a deer slowly bleeding to its death flashed behind my closed eyelids.

“Holy hell.” Another trembling breath later and I stocked the knife neatly into its sheath and wrapped it in one of the blankets, preventing it from finding another hiding place within my back should I slip and fall onto the rucksack.

A small, but clean rag folded into a small package that hid the specially-prepared meat and bread was there, too. The food smelled and looked just as good as it had the moment I bought it. On top of it all were some of my new cloths.

And that was pretty much all for the inside of the backpack.

On one side of the bag hung the small axe that I intended as more of a tool than a weapon. The whole top of the axe was wrapped around in leather—only the wooden handle was left unprotected. Beneath it, a moderately thick and not-so-long rope dangled in the air.

On the other side, to counterbalance the axe and the rope, the waterskin and the lantern were tied to one of the many straps. The crystal inside wasn’t shining for some reason. But I had time to figure that out later. The waterskin was filled to its maximum capacity with crystal-clear mountain water. Way better than back on Earth.

I was as ready as I could be. Well, no, I could’ve stayed here longer, learn more about the world, the language, the herbage etc., but time was ever-so fleeting. And the time for my stay here has run out.

When I finally checked on everything and turned around, the entire Griffin family was standing at the threshold to their small house. They stood there, staring at me with unreadable expressions. Except for Thomas who started crying, somehow sensing that I was preparing to leave. He ran up to me, leapt and grabbed onto my leg. The rest of the family soon followed and I was buried under claws and feathers of my friends. Even Jessica joined in on the group hug.

Honestly, I was shocked. I hadn’t been anticipating such strong reactions from them. Yes, they housed me; yes, they fed me, and yes, they became my friends. But the tears were all too surprising.

They all pulled away, except for Thomas, and I could see their faces. Jack’s expression was nothing short of assuring, his beak laden with a small sad smile. He just nodded when my eyes met his. Jessica was somewhat indifferent, but even she had grown on to me. She was smiling, too, but unlike Jack’s it was more the “good luck” sort of smile.

Well, Thomas was spilling his heart out, something to be expected of a small kid such as him. His eyes were pleading to me, asking me to stay. But deep down, in those pools of misty blue, the truth that he knew I couldn’t stay was there.

Paul was a different story, though. Instead of sadness, as I was expecting, he looked rather determined. Yes, he was sad, but the determination was there, still. Almost instantly, I knew what he was up to. I’ve read enough books to know where this was going. He just sort of bowed and walked back into the house. I think the others just interpreted his departure as him being unable to handle all those feels. I knew better.

And while we’re talking about emotions, I was kinda overwhelmed myself. A tear or two escaped the confines of my eyes.

Why? Why did they do what they did? Why did they save me, an unknown creature?

I wanted to know so damn much. This was beyond “the kindness of strangers”. There had to be something more behind Jack’s decision to help me than he let up. What was it?

The questions bounced in my thoughts, waiting to be asked, needing to be answered. But my tongue could not ask.

“Dammit, Jack. You glorious bastard.” I hung my head and let the tears fall down. I’ve never been good at goodbyes.

When I looked up again, Jack was looking at me sideways, his wings let loose down his sides. He would do it whenever he took me on a flight, allowing me to settle onto his back more easily.

In one of his talons he held a map, probably waiting for me to tell him where I was headed.

But first, there was a little bundle still attached to my leg. Crouching down so my head was level with his, I hugged him for the last time.

“I have to go now. Take care, Thomas.” With a gentle stroke of his head plumage, he let me go, so I stood up again.

Stepping up to Jack, I tapped the city on the map with my index finger. His eyebrows went up a little, but he nodded.

With nothing else said, I climbed onto his back and we took off. For the last time, I looked back on the ground, where Jessica and Thomas stood waving at me. I waved back, and then we swooped down the valley.

The journey has begun.

And then… he was gone. A silhouette against the afternoon sun, far above the canopy of trees.

We’ve flown for about half an hour, before he dropped me off onto a path at the edge of the huge forest. We’d said our goodbyes, his fatherly smile ever present. One last hug, a nod, and he was off.

So, here I was, the path of trampled dirt ahead of me. In the distance, I could see mountains raise up high into the sky like the jaws of a predator. Somewhere in that direction my destination lay. And, like every journey, I made the first step. Then another.

My heart aflutter, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, the weight of my rucksack, and the crunching of gravel and dirt beneath my shoes that I’ve had custom-tailored; it all gave me a sort of assurance that everything was going to be just fine.

The boots themselves weren’t all that great, but it was better than the slippers I’ve arrived with into this world. The soles were soft and thin, so I could feel everything that I stepped on—especially the sharp gravel. But after almost four weeks of walking in slippers or bare-footed, I kinda got used to it. No, wait, I didn’t get used to it. You can’t get used to it. All you can do is bear the pain until you build up some pain resilience and the skin on your feet hardens.

Though the pain was easy to ignore with the sight of rolling green meadows all around me, and an occasional tree standing an eternal guard over the scenery. Truly something I would remember with tears of joy in my deathbed.

And then, another shadow befell me, the silhouette of a bird high up in the sky, against the Sun, so I wasn’t able to see anything. Perhaps…

The shadow got bigger and soon enough the sound of beating winds and heavy breathing could be heard. Now I could see what has come to visit me. Heh, that rhymed.

To leave you without suspense, it was Paul, just as I had expected. As I said, the first time I met him I could already feel his adventurous spirit. It was only a matter of time before an opportunity presented itself for him to leave his home and boring village life behind. I was that opportunity.

And I didn’t like it. Unlike me, he had a life here, and he was throwing it all away for a chase for shadows. It’ll be a dangerous road, not to mention how long it could take. Sure, there was a picture of some human child, but was it the picture of my brother? Was it even from that town, or was it handed down from merchant to merchant, coming from who knows where?

I was grasping for straws, but it was all I could grab onto while hopelessness was dragging me under.

So, when he finally settled down and looked at me, I made sure I had the most disappointed expression I could muster.

“Go home, Paul.” Oh wow, the scowl in my voice could practically melt fire.

He shook his head, then said something. Which was as pointless as trying to have him go home. But, for the sake of peace of mind, I had to try.

He pleaded, I scowled even more until my face hurt. For a few seconds he just stared at me, then burst out laughing.

“Dammit Paul, I am trying to save your ass over here.” Sighing heavily, knowing there was no way to win this dispute, I just turned around and resumed my journey.

Paul, of course, followed.

“You know, you’re making a huge mistake here,” I rambled on. “But it seems I won’t change your mind. So… tag along, I guess.”

He grinned, hearing the resignation in my speech, to which I only rolled my eyes. And as I was rolling my eyes around in my skull, I noticed something. Or, to be more precise, a lack thereof.

“What the hell, man! Where’s your stuff?”

Confusion was all the answer I was going to get.

“You… didn’t pack anything, did you?”

An eyebrow went up.

“God dammit, Paul!”

Chapter 8: In the jungle, the mighty jungle

Announcement (because no one reads Author's blog posts, and it makes me a sad author)

First of all, I am sorry that the story lay dormant for so long. I was seriously rethinking some parts of the story, and came to a conclusion that I'll elaborate on later on in this announcement. This announcement also hasn't been pre-read by McStuffins, so expect some grammatical mistakes and for that I am sorry.

Second:

If you're new to this story, or haven't read the entire story prior to 1st of July 2014, you can safely skip this announcement as it concerns mostly readers prior to 1st July and might contain some spoilers. Also, I re-wrote the prologue so you should definitely re-read it if you're a reader prior to the change that I'll explain below:

Third:

Now this will be a little longer. A bit of history here: This story was never meant to be. It was ¨January/February, and I decided to write my first story in English and it was to be based on the then popular "Humans Acting Villainous In Equestria" thing.

Now, I had an idea and I managed to grow it some so that it would make hopefully a good story. But, first I wanted to introduce the character of Peter, Paul, Dufus and others that would play major part in that story, and I wanted to do it by writing a short one-shot prologue that would stand as a story on its own. That one-shot? You're reading it now.

The problem is that it was very difficult for me to write such an elaborate story-line of two years into 10K words, so I split it some. Then it became even longer, and I decided to make it a standard 60K story. To do that, the infamous time skip after chapter 7 happened, effectively skipping the longest part of the story—the journey itself. As you probably know, that didn't work out because the time skip itself was 20K words on its own; while that is way less than what the whole journey would take to write, it still didn't manage to do the thing I wanted it to do—to move the story forward rushingly, but bearably.

There was some good criticism about the time skip that I took to heart and thought long and hard about. The fad of Villainous Humans was already mostly gone and over-used, the whole story of WHHD that was supposed to be a prologue to another story became a normal story of its own, and I cam to terms that it would be pointless to try to rush it now. Thus, I decided to evaporate the effort that I had put into the time skip and continue from chapter 7 as if nothing had happened. Mind you, it wasn't really "deleted" as the time skip was an important plot point, but I managed to push it further down the way and give a few more hints about it in prologue, so it wouldn't be so jarring. (As I had said, the prologue has been updated by another 2K words, so you should definitely re-read it')

I know this probably wasn't the best way I could've handled this, and I screwed up royally, but I felt it was needed to move the story in the new direction I want it to go now. I am just sorry for wasting your time. Anyway, as an apology, here are two chapters that are set after chapter 7.

And a small reminder of what had happened so far:

Peter and Michael lived happily and all that jazz, until some evil purple mist swallows Michael and Peter and transports them to another world. Michael lands who knows where while Peter lands in a meadow in the middle of a huge forest. He finds no trace of his brother but a button from his pajamas, which he pockets into his bathrobe.

Peter is sort of rescued by a gryphon family that takes him in. He spends a few weeks there, growing accustomed to the new and strange society of mythical animals, learns a few things about the world and grows up to the family which he named: Jack (the father), Jessie/Jessica (Mother), Paul (oldest child), Thomas (youngest child). He gets a teacher that teaches him a few things, gets some supplies for his upcoming journey and even learns where he should go when a caravan of merchants drop by the village. With a clear destination in mind, he leaves toward a supposedly huge city north-east of the village. Paul joins him, as Peter suspected he would, and together they journey forward.

Chapter 9: Paul’s great ideas

Chapter 8: In the jungle, the mighty jungle

“God dammit, Paul!”

What in the seven circles of hell was he thinking? No, don’t camp your gear, what a useless waste of time.

Of course, now he had to huddle under my blankets, his feathery body pressed against mine as we shared the same pile of blankets. And most of my clothes served as something to lay on, since the ground was freezing cold.

Not to mention that, as if the “bro” meter wasn’t off the charts by now, he started to wiggle.

And it felt goooood.

No, I am not homosexual, don’t give me that look. It just felt really nice. You know, try getting really ultra soft feather dusters or something akin to that, build a… blanket out of it, and then rub it all over your body at the same time.

No, that came out wrong again. Just forget it.

“What the hell.” I threw an arm around him and hugged him close. God, better than any pillow ever.

I still ought to throw him and let him freeze his ass to teach him a lesson, though.

We had been on the march for the better part of the day. Since we left the village somewhere after noon, we hadn’t been walking all that long. But my legs still hurt and I was glad to give them some rest by the light and warmth of a fireplace. Paul lent a paw, brought some rocks and put them in a circle after I had started doing it, and then I ignited it.

We were camping some ways off the road to not attract any unwanted attention from fellow travellers (not like there were many, though), but it also meant we were surrounded by the wildlife. Only God knew what lived in this forest.

Was God even here? I mean, if he was meant to create the whole of universe, then by that logic he had to create this world, too. I think that contradicted a few things in the Bible, though. Not like I knew. I’ve never read it.

Perhaps we weren’t even in my universe? Maybe this was an alternative dimension or something like that, a world parallel to ours.

I didn’t really have much time to ponder on the existence of things. Sleep fell upon me almost immediately with my head on Paul’s chest, both of us bundled under the meager blankets I brought with me.

He suddenly draped his wing over me – rousing me from sleep – thus providing another soft and warm layer over my freezing ass. The crackling of fire was less intense now, and I thought for half a second about getting up and feeding the fire some more. That thought was murdered brutally with a thousand spoons before a full second could pass. I shifted a little, but not much, and that was about it.

Thankfully, Paul wasn’t the snoring kind of guy.

Well, I jinxed it...

But luckily the universe seemed to restrain itself, because he didn’t start snoring. Hurrah for calm, undisturbed sleep.

I woke up when Paul did, because I was all over him in manners I didn’t want to talk about. We might’ve been crimson for a while after that. And we might’ve not been. You wouldn’t know.

Anyway, I was still tired, my legs were on fire with pain, and my bladder was about to explode. After the call of nature had been answered and I scattered the ash and stone of the fireplace, I realized something.

Unsurprisingly, the forest looked a whole lot different in the light of day than it did in the not-light of falling night. And unsurprisingly, that’s something I didn’t account for.

Great, we were lost and it wasn’t even a day since we had left.

“Well, shit,” I cursed matter-of-factly into the silent forest, kinda hoping the trees would part and let us out back onto the road. I turned to Paul who was dusting off my blankets. While he did notice me staring, he didn’t try to communicate with me until he finished.

Meanwhile I got me some fresh water and a piece of bread. I offered some food and drink to Paul, too. He accepted gladly, though I knew how useless the gesture was. I’ve seen the gryphons eat. Their snack time could be considered a viking feast in the times of old.

But we were friends, so I guess that counted anyway.

Took me some time to “fold” the blankets back into my bag (I was never a space-efficient person), but soon we were both ready to go and hit the road again. Except, there was still the problem of where the hell the road was.

Paul was obviously waiting for me to go first. I just stared at him somewhat dumbly, while his head jerked a few times in random directions, obviously urging me to go on. I just shrugged and said, “I don’t know where to go, man.”

He tilted his head. However, he noticed me still standing and looking around, trying to get some bearings unsuccessfully. At that, he slumped his head and sighed heavily, before muttering something and taking to the air. Oh, right.

It was hard for him, since the forest was pretty dense and the canopy of trees let little light in, so he had to climb through it first. Then he was gone, and the trees closed after him as if he had never went through there.

It took him about five minutes before he returned, and soon we were on our way again.

There were a few travellers roaming the road, some passing us, some stopping to look at me, while others tried to engage in a conversation, to which Paul was always the one talking. Most of the travellers, however, seemed to prefer air travel instead of walking, and now and then we would see a shadow speeding through the sky.

Though, not all the travellers that we did engage in conversation were all that polite. One dumbass even attacked me.

It was when Paul was getting something to eat and drink. Since he was a big guy, he needed to eat a lot and my meager supplies would last him for maybe a breakfast. So he’d wander off in search of some game and ponds, often disappearing for a few hours at end, but he did it only once a day.

There was the sound of fluttering heavy wings, the swoosh of air, and then something landed in front of me. It was a grey gryphon with white splotches across his (I got a feeling for recognizing male and female gryphons during my stay in the village) chest. He squawked something, but I didn’t understand so I just said one of the few words I knew: “Hello!”

The gryphon looked taken aback a little, but he quickly recovered and started circling me, watching me up and down, his eyes resting especially on my weapons. I put my hand near the handle of my mace and kept facing him. He squawked something again, and again I answered with a hearty hello, trying to sound as pleasant as I could. I also took off my backpack, letting it fall onto the ground behind me. If there had to be a fight, I’d better be as agile as I could.

Then he took to the air and disappeared above the trees.

“Huh,” I looked after him for a little while but after half a minute I gave up. Once the assurance that he’d not come back settled in my mind, I turned around and reached for the backpack...

A shadow suddenly hung over me, sharp agony erupted in my shoulders, and I gasped in both surprise and pain as I was lifted off the ground, and before I knew it, we were above the trees.

“Paul!” I screamed immediately at the gryphon that wasn’t present.

I looked up to find some asshole gryphon had decided to take me for a ride. We were already high above the forest, but still I started thrashing and beating with my fist, to no avail of course. He looked at me, hissed something and then did a barrel roll, all the while I was screaming my lungs out.

I didn’t really thrash after that.

In some subconscious moment of clarity, my right hand reached to my belt where a hefty and unused mace awaited my command, while my left hand reached out to hold onto the gryphon’s claw holding me by my left shoulder

“Hey!” I yelled at the gryphon through the screaming of wind. He tilted his head toward me, his left eye gazing. I scowled from the effort and pain of moving my right arm and shoulder in his grasp, but still gave that bastard a vicious uppercut with the mace. It was quite difficult, since the mace was heavy and my arm was restricted.

Of course I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of doing that.

His head snapped back and he lost control of his wings, resulting in us getting into a jumbled mess of limbs falling to the ground. I reached with my right hand in an attempt to catch onto something, and in a miraculous chance managed to locked my forearm around his neck while still clutching my mace.

With a jerk and some biting pain (though it was mostly due to the momentum of falling), I managed to wriggle my left shoulder free, and when I did, I reached under my shirt and grabbed the handle of a small dagger strapped against my chest. It took me three tries before I managed to grab onto it, though. Wasn’t anything easy in mid-flight.

Soon enough, I was flailing in the air alongside (or rather, “underside”) the disoriented gryphon while also trying to stab him. I really wasn’t thinking by then. I just tried to get rid of him, not taking into consideration that he was also my only way to get out of this alive. But people do weird things in stressful situations.

Anyway, all of that happened within fifteen seconds or so, and it looked less graceful than I make it out to be. I was scared shitless and I would’ve screamed if not for my aching throat after the initial hollering.

Then the gravity shifted and I found myself not against his abdomen and chest, but on his back.

The gryphon started screeching, the sound making my ears hurt exponentially. Instinctively, I grabbed my ears with both of my hands, trying to cover them from the horrible onslaught. Mind you, I was still clutching the damned mace so I also hit myself on the head with it. Luckily, my dagger seemed to be gone.

That also left me with nothing to catch onto the gryphon, since my legs were still flailing in the air. Plus I was a little disoriented myself because of the self-inflicted clubbing.

Soon I was left alone tumbling through the open air. At that moment, after being in no danger from the gryphon, the realization of where I found myself hit me. I started screaming once more as I fell to my death.

“Peter!” someone yelled somewhere, and with a jolt of my head, I looked around with panic only to see the familiar beige of my friend, his claws extended to catch me. My brain ordered me to stop thrashing and screaming, letting him catch me by my legs. Sometimes, my brain gives me great advice.

Soon we flew over the treetops, and before I knew it we were on the ground where I collapsed with shaking legs, my heart beating like never before.

“Holy hell, holy hell, holy hell,” I kept repeating in-between deep, quick breaths. I lay on my back, hands grabbing the dirt and pebbles of the trampled road.

I looked up, but the dastardly kidnapping gryphon was nowhere in sight in the clear blue sky.

After this, we tried not to get separated as much, and when Paul had to go, I’d hide instead of walk without him. No one tried anything funny the rest of the way, anyway. And in a moment of incredible luck, I found my mace near some scared-off gryphon that was examining the weapon with fear and curiosity while searching the sky for something. I took the mace politely from his claws, and soon we went on our way while leaving a confused gryphon merchant behind.

During the next three days, we kept walking during the day and during the night we would camp. He’d try to teach me more of the language while walking and camping, too. Numbers, things around me, you name it. He’d point at something or try to gesticulate things, while repeating the same words. I felt like a drooling pre-school kid.

You might ask what took us days to get out of some forest. Well, the forest was really big. And half the time we spent resting. Walking all day is serious business. My legs were hating me the second day since we set out, and it only got worse with each passing day.

Anyway. At long last, on the fourth day we emerged from the forest.

“Finally!”

After days of walking the endless road going through the damned forest, we emerged into a paradise. Rolling meadows as far as the eye could see, small patches of trees here and there, and the road winding along the long grass, while a river emerged not so far to our right from the forest and cut its way down one of the meadows, where it formed a large pond. Around the pool were what looked like small gryphons, while a larger one was resting on an uphill.

To our left we could see houses and large structures and all sorts of wood were littered around them. We could see the small village buzzing with activity, hear the chopping and cutting of wood, the sound of children, and the sound of a tree being felled somewhere in the forest as huge crash echoed behind us.

There was a smaller road winding from the one we were walking; a road that led into the small village. I looked at Paul uncertainly, unsure if going there would be a good idea. But that didn’t seem to bother him as he had already begun walking there.

“Paul,” I called out to him and he turned around, tilting his head.

“What?”

I put a hand over my chest, shook my head and said, “No.”

Paul rolled his eyes, turned back and started walking toward the village again with a single word I didn’t understand yet.

“Paul.”

He sighed and turned around once again. I threw down my backpack, took the axe from it, and then threw the backpack at Paul. He caught it uncertainly. I just gestured stuffing my mouth and drinking something.

“Oh,” was all he said, then he nodded and went into the village while I retreated back into the shadows and underbrush of the forest.

“Well, that didn’t work out quite well.”

My sore shoulders that were still recovering from the unprovoked assault were once again agonized by a pair of claws of one of the gryphons that found me hiding so innocently behind some bushes. I gave up my weapons pretty quickly, alright. They had weapons of their own (axes with blades as big as my ass), and they didn’t appear to be afraid to use them. Especially on a fully armed creature that they had probably never seen before.

So, of course, since I tried to look non-hostile, they captured me instead of gutting me right then and there. Now these four gryphons – probably lumberjacking buddies – were flying me to the village whilst displaying me like a damned trophy.

And suddenly, children started to crowd us, some gryphons started shouting, more gryphons flew in to look at me and all that jazz. Between those gryphons was, of course, Paul.

I decided not to call out to him. Paul’d be better off not associating with me right now. Meanwhile, the gryphon in question looked shocked at first, but then he facepalmed and shook his head while mumbling something.

They forced me to my knees in the middle of the village square as the onlooking gryphons, both big and small, surrounded me in a wide circle to give the gryphons holding me some space. And probably to not get close to me, too.

One gryphon, dark grey plumage, white chest, and chestnut eyes, moved through the crowd, the others making a way for him, until he came up directly to me. One of the four gryphons handed him my axe and my mace. They didn’t try to look under my clothing, but it’s not like I had my dagger anymore. Since, you know, I lost it during the flight-fight.

He put the weapons down, then looked at me. His eyes became slits and his eyebrows promised doom upon my soul.

With anger clearly notable in his voice, he started sputtering something that sounded like threats while I looked on passively, his words seemingly having no effect on me, mostly because I didn’t understand anything he was spewing. The message was still clear, though. I tried really hard not to sweat and not to shake. No, I wasn’t afraid at all; it was the adrenalin. Yep.

Anyway, he didn’t notice, and my calm facade clearly irritated him. Before it could get out of hand (or claw), I spoke, “Sorry dude, I don’t speak Balderdash.”

That stopped him, and his anger was replaced with confusion. Then he said squawked something to which I replied, "If you’re asking me if I understand, then no, I don’t.” I was looking him dead in the eyes the whole time.

Anyway, right when I answered and the interrogator was about to slap me some, Paul decided to man up and step into the arena. I don’t know if I should be scolding him or cheering him on, but he put himself out there, in the harm’s way… for me. There was just something heartwarming about that.

“No!” He squawked and stepped forward. All the gryphons and one human turned their heads to him. Once he saw he had everyone’s attention, he gulped, but continued kind of confidently. Kind of.

“Garble garble garble, Peter, garble garble garble. Garble.”

He talked like that for a while, sometimes pointing at seemingly random things in random directions and making exaggerated poses.

I could feel the tension on my right shoulder lessen, and when I looked up, the gryphon holding me had his bird cheeks stained with tears. When I looked around on the gryphons surrounding us, some were shocked, some were “not buying it” so to speak; some just listened intently, some were on verge of emotional breakdowns.

Alright, what the hell was he telling them now?

Paul finished. Everyone was silent.

The presumed leader looked back at me in thought, but after a few seconds ushered the gryphons holding me away with his claw. Talon. Whatever.

My shoulders immediately sagged in relief, and I even dared to get on my feet again. It hurt to dust my legs off because of the shoulders and- Great, my knees were scraped. Nothing serious, of course. Just mild annoyance if it wouldn’t get infected or something.

All of the villagers looked at me but I couldn’t tell much. I was still bad at reading bird faces.

The leader nodded to me sharply before going closer to Paul to talk some more. After that, the villagers went their ways, some still looking back at me.

“Does it mean I am free?”

...

“Umm… hello?”

Interlude: Death, come near me

Chapter 9: Paul’s great ideas

The two gryphons – the leader and Paul – began to laugh while I stood there like an idiot. Then they went all serious and somber. At that, Paul said something indignantly.

Then they laughed some more.

And that’s about how we found ourselves back in the forest, towing behind two bulky gryphons wielding even bulkier axes. Both of them, and even Paul, hovered above the ground while I had to do my darn best not to step on twigs. Which was just about impossible in a forest, not to mention I couldn’t care less. I’d have to crawl soon because my legs were at the point of falling off.

Therefore the two picked me by my shoulders (god dammit) and we flew within the shadows of trees. At least I didn’t have to punish my legs anymore, so that wasn’t so bad. My shoulders didn’t agree.

I knew not where we were going. But I knew Paul had something to do with it. And whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

In silence we glided through the forest like ghosts until we arrived at a small slate mountain jutting from the forest like a jagged tooth. There we stopped.

“Well, this isn’t ominou-”

“Shh!” Bulky (the gryphon holding my left shoulder) interrupted me, while Hulky glared at me.

They started chattering silently and I pretended I understood everything. I nodded when Paul nodded, looked serious when others looked serious...

Suddenly, Paul and Bulky left, while Hulky and me stayed behind. I could see Paul and his companion disappear behind the bushes and trees; meanwhile Hulky and me started circling the mountain anticlockwise. We would sneak behind bushes, behind rocks, trying to be as silent as possible for causes unknown to me. But, you know, I tagged along.

Took us about ten minutes before we met Paul and Bulky again. They exchanged a few words while shaking their heads. Were we searching for something? And why did we try to be all sneaky?

Paul suddenly seemed to get an idea as he raised his head, first in a silent “ah-hah!”, then he raised his head further, looking somewhere above the trees. He said something before flying upward and through the trees.

Immediately, the gryphons got into a hushed conversation while I just tried to find some nice flat stone to sit on. And I did, behind some huge rock that provided me with more shadowy sanctuary from the harsh afternoon sun that cut through the tree canopy with unforgiving beams of sunlight.

We were just at the beginning – Paul and me, I mean – and I was already so… damn… tired.

How the hell am I supposed to save my brother like this? I don’t know the anything, I don’t know how to fight. If it weren’t for Paul I’d be dead already—and I can’t even thank him for it. Hell, Paul’d probably have a better chance surviving this crazy journey without me.

The rock was cold but soothing against my aching legs and possibly sunburnt neck, though the tradeoff would probably be more aching from my ass and my back, but for now, it’d do.

Hell, I could even-

Suddenly, the light was no more and with it vanished the warmth of day. I was cold and the dull pain was now spread all over my body. Those were the first things I noticed, and it took a moment more to fully appreciate the sudden change of scenery.

I bolted upward.

The pain that was the reward for my effort threw me back down.

“Ugh…” I moaned with my face against the cold and unforgivingly hard thing called ground, and contemplated if getting up would even be worth the effort. With a deliberate and painfully slow movements, I propped myself up with both arms that I gingerly managed to fold under myself.

I finally made it to my legs (with the help of the rock I was so soundly sleeping against) and they didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Paul?” I called out hoarsely since it seemed to me like I hadn’t had anything to drink in ages.

“Anyone?”

Of course, nothing. The constant sound of crickets playing their symphony didn’t count.

“Shit,” I cursed, trembling, and grabbed the back of my head in both of my hands. Panic began to plunge its hooks in my guts, and my body automatically started pacing around while my mind conjured images of demons hiding within the forest foliage.

I was alone, in a dark forest; no supplies, no way back. Barely could see a meter in front of me, making me completely defenseless against the things that could be lurking in the dark of this mythical world. Maybe calling out for Paul wasn’t the brightest idea, but my mind told me there wasn’t much to lose now.

“Paul!” I yelled out, the forest echoing my call for help mockingly.

Without any thinking, I started to run around the damned slate rock hill, trying to find something, someone, anything. Anything good, that is.

I started cursing with each breath I took because there was no one there beside me and I needed to vent my growing fear somehow. I stumbled and I fell, but my whole being was now in instinctual overdrive, the natural fear of dark taking over my senses. I had no problem getting back on my feet now.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.All alone.This is the end.

I am going to die here.

There’s nothing

So cold.

What now?

With sheer willpower I stopped myself from taking another step, another uncertain plunge into the darkness. I had to think. I had to think hard.

I got myself lost even more than I was before, but not like it mattered. I would probably freeze to death before I’d find my way out of here. I had only a leather shirt and pants on, every other bit of clothing was back in my backpack. Speaking of which, I realized that Paul didn’t have the backpack on when we ventured here.

Useless thoughts aside, the most important priority was to start a fire. I had my axe—I could cut wood. I had my mace—I could rub it against the steel of axe to create some sparks. I had all I needed.

No. I didn’t have light. I could barely see anything.

I started blindly searching for some twigs and dry leaves, crawling around on my knees and arms, using my hands to find things.

Within a few minutes, there was a small pile of what I needed in front of me. I didn’t make the proper preparations for a fireplace.

In that moment, I couldn’t care less if the forest would burn down from my carelessness. All I cared about was to stop the growing cold.

Shaking like I had parkinsons, my hands tugged against the straps of my mace and axe, until they dropped to the ground.

“Dammit,” I hissed, and almost screamed in frustration as I tried to pick them up and failed. When I finally did, I sat down in front of the miserable pile that would be my campfire, and propped the ball of my mace against the ground while trying to rub the blade of my axe against it.

Of course, that didn’t work. My hands just shook too much.

So I tried it the other way – rubbing the mace against the axe – which did result in a few sparks, but not nearly enough. At that moment, I felt angry beyond measure, sad, frustrated, and worst of all, helpless.

I rubbed and rubbed, the clinking of iron against steel sounding in desperate quickness through the night.

The frustration and helplessness built up, tears started streaming my cold face, and soon enough I wasn’t even rubbing the two weapons against each other, just pounding them into the ground with ferocious anger.

With a thousand curses at the tip of my tongue, I jumped to my feet and childishly threw the weapons against the rocky mountain to my right, where they clinked and bounced off into the darkness and out of my sight.

“No, no, no, no!” I immediately fumbled toward the place I heard them fall to.

Next thing I knew, I fell and bounced against the side of the mountain, trying to catch onto anything. Then, I tumbled down for way longer than I should’ve.

I cried out in pain as I landed awkwardly on my lower back. Wherever it was I fell, there was no light here, and the sound of my own cries echoed even more in here.

I rolled over onto my side, at least confirming that I hadn’t broken anything. That would’ve been really bad. My rump still hurt like hell, though.

Forgetting the cold due to the pain for a while, I managed to get up tenderly while spitting words of hate and clutching my back like an old spiteful senior citizen. Unlike what I presumed was outside (perhaps I was in a cave of sort?), the temperature was actually higher in here, wherever the hell here was.

“Hello?” I whispered. “Anyone there?”

I need light now more than ever.

But I didn’t have anything on me that could produce light. So, instead I reached around me, trying to find a wall to lean onto, when I bumped into something with my feet. It clinked against the stone floor.

With more cursing and increasing pain, I reached down and found what seemed to be my mace. Perhaps my axe was here, too? Shuffling my feet around soon enough I did find the axe. Man, had I fallen onto any of those weapons…

I awkwardly holstered the mace back onto the strap above my belt, but I held onto the axe with my left hand. Should I trip and fall, I could at least throw the axe away instead of falling onto it. Hopefully.

After perhaps half a minute of flailing my arms and the axe around, the weapon clinked against something hard, I approached it and finally discovered a wall. I took the axe in my left hand while I used my right hand to feel against the wall while walking forward and carefully stepping with each foot ahead, trying not to fall into a pit or something.

I shivered, sometimes outright trembled, and it wasn’t because of the cold. The situation that yours truly found himself in? Yeah, not good.

The wall started to curl to the right, and as I went, the cavern seemed to get a little brighter, until finally I saw a lone torch, almost burned up, far ahead of me. My mouth spread into a grin and my eyes took in the light, hungered for it and devoured every bit of it. Carelessly, my limping walk turned into a limping stride toward the glorious light.

At last I reached it, and promptly fell beneath it without a care in the world. I let the axe go and it landed somewhere in front of me.

Time was irrelevant. My body just basked in the light and warmth of what seemed to be the only source of said light and warmth around. I lay on my chest – very uncomfortable – but I didn’t dare to move, as the pain above my ass started to recede while not doing anything. I just looked at the wall opposite of the torch.

*Clink!*

The axe came into my view, its blade dangerously close to my face.

What? I turned my head ahead, then up.

In front of me stood a dog on its hind legs, its fur dark red-brown in the orange light, and it wore some kind of loose clothing that looked hand-made, or rather, paw-made in its case.

“What the fu-” I couldn’t finish the sentence as it suddenly barked and reared back, falling into an aggressive stance, its claws bared and ready to tear. My first urge was to get up as fast as I could, but when I tried, the pain in my lower back flared up again and mid-way to standing up I had to fall against the wall, leaning while yelling about “things”.

The dog hissed something, and I immediately knew that it spoke in Universal by the sentence structure and some words that I had heard before, but I still couldn’t understand shit.

“Hello,” I hissed back, the most appropriate word I could find.

It started to mumble, and obviously questioned me about something.

“Tree,” I replied, now fully standing and leaning against the wall with my right shoulder, my right hand close to my mace.

“What?” Now that I understood.

“Flower.” Paul taught me really useful things.

The dog started to frown, then it asked something again that sounded similar to whatever he asked before.

“Sun.” Fucking hell, Paul.

Boy, did it get angry. I mean, he got angry. His voice was clearly that of a male. Anyway, he bared his fangs at me, and his eyes shone with frustration and anger. He spat something, to which I replied while already unstrapping my mace silently, “Moon.”

It sounded more like a “moo!”, though.

He charged me, clearly blinded with hatred. My mace was already in the way of his head, and he didn’t see the flying piece of iron until it was already too late. There was a searing pain in my left hand, which I was using to defend myself from the onslaught of claws, followed by a cracking sound. His momentum still carried his body forward, and it threw me down onto the floor, my rump first. “Pain” didn’t begin to cover it.

“Oh my GOOOOOOOOOOO-

Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part II.

Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part I.

I didn’t walk far from the corpse before I took a turn and the torch died down. But it mattered not, because I could see, in the distance, blue light. I threw the useless piece of wood behind me, where it clattered against the wall and floor, the sound echoing through the empty corridors.

True, maybe I should’ve turned back, maybe I should’ve tried to get back out there, into the cold forest. But it was just that: a cold forest. Death in its icy form would grip me before I could get anywhere. Plus, it was dark outside. There wasn’t anything there worth going back to, not now.

And what if my companions were down here?

My legs carried me closer to the light, stumbling over themselves in pain and exhaustion. Trembling hands held the mace; my mind and body felt prepared for another surprise about as much as a slacker before a big test. It hurt to move; it hurt to do anything.

I don’t know how long it took, but finally I stood at the mouth of a cave illuminated with some of those glowing crystal things hanging from the walls and ceiling. The sound of mining and grunting, someone yelling things over it all, echoed throughout the caves.

This particular entrance was close to the ceiling, and the sounds came from down below, so I crouched and moved into the light carefully as to not be seen by anyone or anything.

I stood at a sort of small, stone balcony overlooking the mining operations below. Small stairs ebbed into the wall led down to my right.

There were more of the creatures, the dogs—three of them, to be exact. They were armed and armored, overlooking some gryphons and even a pony or two that were in chains; the slaves were using primitive pickaxes to mine gems out of the walls, while some others pulled loaded or empty carts on primitive tracks deeper into another cave opening.

Slavers.

None of the slavers or slaves were looking anywhere close to the balcony or the stairs, and there was a cart with a pony resting against it at the bottom behind which I could hide. That’d position me right behind one of the diamond dogs that was guarding the resting pony. So, that’s just what I did.

The boots I wore had soft soles, meaning they didn’t make noise when I started sneaking down the stairs. Mace ready, in case I would need to attack the diamond dog before getting behind him, I went over the plain that formed in my head. The plan was to kill the dog near the pony, making me the focus of the other two slavers’ attention. Then I hoped the six slaves would help me, but I couldn’t count on that, so I’d just climb the stairs and use them to fight one on one instead of being surrounded by both. Not a brilliant plan, but I didn’t exactly have anything else to work with.

After the sweat-inducing experience of sneaking down without being seen, I hid behind the cart, planning to put my tactic in motion. The dog was standing to the side of the cart, looking away from me, so all I had to do was stand up and introduce him to my magic ball. However, doing so was another task in itself.

I was about to put my life on the line, with an uncertain plan to back up my worries. One wrong move, and it could all be over soon. My heart was beating so hard my whole body shook, and my head pounded like a battering ram trying to break through the gates of Hell itself; the pain of my legs and lower back twice as bad as before. Now, now, now, the mind kept repeating, but the body wouldn’t listen.

For fuck’s sake.

I breathed in deep, stood up just as the dog’s ear twitched and started to turn his head my way. He didn’t even manage to get a look at me before my mace came flying from above. The dog had no chance to yelp.

The sound of a body fitted in armor hitting the ground overpowered the sound of commanding and mining, and both dogs looked at their fallen comrade and me. Apparently not ones for formalities, they drew their weapons – short swords – and starter running toward me.

“Help!” I yelled and ran halfway up the stairs before focusing on the dog that was mere meters in behind me, already a paw on the first step. I took last glance at the slaves that ceased their duties, looking at the spectacle but, as I had feared, not doing much else.

A vicious curse escaped me as my left hand reached toward my axe. I threw it at the first dog before he could get into melee range, hoping to get him out of the game. Of course, with my throwing skills somewhere in the negative, I managed to throw the axe so that only the handle hit the dog, right in the chest, and bounced off of him. But not all was lost, as the dog slowed down to cover his face with his arms because he had no time nor space to dodge it.

That gave me the precious second to move forward and swing my mace in the direction of his head just as he was lowering his arms. The dog managed to throw his head back a little, and instead of it being a fatal blow he just got whipped across the jaw. The force of it, however, sent him sprawling down the stairs and knocking his friend standing behind him over with a cry of pain.

I quickly ran down the stairs before they could recover. The dog that was knocked over was already recovering and propping himself up with his paws. I had none of it as I swung and landed a hit on his spine, hopefully shattering it. The dog howled and fell back on the ground.

Thinking this one was done for, I leaped over him and to his friend that wasn’t moving. The cause being a sword that had pierced his right lower back, probably where his kidney was if humans and these dogs had similar inner anatomy.

I looked back at the other dog that was moaning loudly, but not moving.

Well, that was surprisingly easy, but scary.

It was then that I slowly sat down while breathing heavily. The whole fight, while taking mere seconds, took great toll on my already tired body.

“Thanks for nothing,” I addressed the assembly of slaves that had done nada the whole time. They met my glare with unsure glances.

I carefully eyed the four gryphons, but none of them were Paul or the other two that had led us to this damned place. Hopefully they just went home or something instead of getting captured. Yeah, that’s why they left me...

What the hell did you get us into, Paul?

I knew that this whole place had something to with whatever the hell we were doing near that slate mountain. Suddenly the sneaking around made sense though.

After half a minute of resting, I picked myself up again. I went back to the two slavers lying next to each other, one dead and the other still moaning in pain. I tenderly rolled the corpse onto its back to spot what I was looking for—any keys that could get these prisoners out of their chains.

This one didn’t have anything, and neither the first dog that I had killed by surprise had anything, so I checked on the one alive. But first, I had to roll him over. I braced myself for the screaming and quickly got him onto his back. The dog’s voice broke halfway through.

This one had a keyring, which I took by ripping it from his cloth belt.

“Sorry,” I genuinely said before turning to the pony to my right. He looked at me somewhat fearfully, that is before I threw the keys into his face. With nothing more to be said, and already knowing that they wouldn’t help me, I continued walking the only way I could: forward. That is, after I got my axe.

The blue of crystals was replaced with the sparse orange light of torches that lit the somewhat narrow cave. I was walking down one of two pairs of tracks running parallel to each other. The whole corridor was rather empty; only met one pony pulling an empty cart down the tracks on my left, and back to where I came from. As he noticed me, he froze, but soon continued as I passed him, now running instead of shambling tiredly. I guess I had to look kinda scary with two weapons drawn and clothes splattered with blood after braining two dogs.

Funny how I felt no remorse now that the truth about what these dogs were was revealed.

After about five minutes of walking, I again came to an entrance to a circular cave, this one larger and more grandiose than the previous one. There was a whole lot more tracks here, along with more gryphons, ponies, and diamond dogs all over the place. From the shadows I watched and I noticed a dog sitting on some kind of crystal throne at the opposite side of the hall. There were also huge piles of gems all over the room, and especially around the throned dog. The leader.

Once there was no one looking my way, I left the shadows and sneaked quickly to the right and behind one large stone column, one of many supporting the high ceiling.

I once again looked, trying to find something, anything. That was hard, because I didn’t even know what I wanted or planned to do.

Why am I even here.

“Dammit, Paul,” I muttered and went back into hiding. There were too many diamond dogs, perhaps thirty from what I could’ve seen. About fifty slaves toiling around, mining, pushing, serving; all for the good of their masters.

I just couldn’t see how these dogs could imprison so many gryphons without them crying for bloody vengeance. The dogs and gryphons were the same height-wise, that is somewhere up to my chest, and gryphons were probably stronger than their oppressors. They could rip them apart if they wanted.

But something kept them at bay, and I wanted to know what it was. Once I could remove it, then I perhaps could get some help against all these dogs.

Am I trying to liberate them now? When did this happen?

Well, I just couldn’t sit around, you know.

I looked around again, now looking more closely at all the corridors branching from this, presumably main, cave. All of them had tracks, except for two. One was a large cave that was leading up opposite me and to the right of the alpha. A way out?

Then there was another, smaller one that led down and that was right behind the throne.

After ten minutes of looking, I was contemplating where to sneak, when suddenly some gryphon collapsed. I watched as at first two dogs tried to wake him up, going as far as kicking him, but when the gryphon was still out, two started dragging him through the cavern and into the corridor behind the alpha’s throne.

When I thought no one was looking, I got up and prepared to sneak behind another column, when suddenly something tapped me on my shoulder.

Sudden, unrelenting fear gripped me and kept me from moving. It was over. There was probably some dog behind me, waiting for me to turn around so that he could impale me with his sword. My whole body started trembling horribly at the thought of death, my stomach making a double turn, and I closed my eyes to prevent myself from retching.

Someone behind me told me – no, ordered me – to do something in a gruff voice. I knew that whoever it was, he didn’t want to play nice.

I presumed he wanted what most captors in these situations wanted, and I complied by dropping my weapons to the ground.

Something pushed me in my back and I was forced to step outside the protection of shadows and into the light, drawing the sight of most of the diamond dogs and some slaves. They looked at me almost nonchalantly, some smirking smugly. Did they know I was there the whole damn time?

The slaves, however, stopped doing whatever they were doing to look at me. And everyone was silent. Meanwhile, my captor led me into the middle of the room and before the leader’s primitively carved, but ultimately beautiful throne made of gems. Someone yelled and all the slaves got back to work.

My legs gave up under me as cold metal pinched me in my back.

The alpha furrowed his brows at me, while peeling away his lips to show me his canines. He spat something in a long string of words that ended in a question. My stomach rumbled in response.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”

The dog narrowed his eyes at me, before saying something. After few seconds of silence, he turned to my captor still standing behind me, and motioned with his paw somewhere to the right. A paw grabbed me by my shirt and forced me back on my legs, before pushing me to the corridor behind the throne. We walked in silence, only the heavy breathing of the dog behind me reaching my burning ears. Where was he leading me? I assumed if they wanted to kill they would’ve done it the moment they had found me.

We came upon a T section, where we turned right and continued through the narrow corridor.

I sat on the single bench in this cold cell. There was only one wall, and I sat in front of it. Otherwise it was iron bars all around me, which let me see into the other cells that were built into the circular room.

My tired hands rested against my hurting knees, head lowered as I looked at the damp ground. I was trembling, but no longer was it mainly due to fear or cold.

No, I was livid.

I found the chains of gryphons and ponies. I found the loaded guns against their heads. And they were all around me.

Children. Each cell occupied by at least two, and about ten cells in total in this prison block. That is, if there were more prison blocks.

There were cubs, and even a few foals. Hell, there were even a fawn, which, dreadfully, led me to believe that deer in this world were indeed sapient and that Jack had killed one knowing this. But in my mind there was no time to ponder that. All my mind focused on were the children.

They all looked miserable, huddled against each other or against some of the grown ups that were imprisoned in here, too. I could see the unconscious gryphon in one of those cells, a gryphon cub huddled against him, crying.

And when I could take it no more, I lowered my head and let my eyes rest.

But all of that was just a small part of my anger. It was… their cries, their moaning and constant questions that needn’t be translated to know their meaning. “Where’s mommy?” I could practically hear in their voices. “Where’s daddy?” another cried. “I want to go home,” some other inquired confused and hurt.

And each voice cut deep within me for all of them reminded me of my brother. Each cry reminding me of the times he got hurt while conjuring new images of all the terrible things that could’ve happened to him in the past few weeks.

I tried to cover my ears with my hands, but the children’ cries couldn’t be silenced.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, I repeated with each image playing behind my closed eyelids.

“Stop it,” I mumbled while unconsciously rocking back and forth.

“Stop it...”

Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part III.

Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part II.

The clutches of sleep dragged me back and forth between the wakefulness of children’s neverending questions, and nondescript, feverish dreams for time uknown.

A few slices of one of those ancient, flatbreads with some water in a surprisingly nice jug was all I got from them. I was too hungry and thirsty to care if it was drugged or not.

This cycle of eating and half-sleeping continued for seemingly forever, until they came for me.

Now once more we marched through the narrow corridors behind the throne. Again we came upon the T section, but this time we went forward where the unknown awaited.

But that would be on my own terms.

The dog leading me was too cocky for his own good, kept his sword sheathed by the right hip, there were no restraints around my hands. He was too careless, underestimating, and now he would pay the price.

What I was attempting to do was probably another load of stupid, but hopefully it’d work. Putting my plan in motion, I tripped and fell.

“Agh!” yelling and over-exaggerating, I landed on my hands and knees, waiting for him to get behind me. But he never did, instead he drew his weapon and pointed it at me. Well, there went my plan to take the sword from him as he was picking me up. Maybe he was smarter than he looked.

Without anything else coming up to my mind, I picked myself off the floor and continued, but this time with the tip of a sword aimed between my shoulder blades.

Soon the corridor split into two again, one winding right and the other continuing straight, ending in a heavy looking door. We went ahead, where I was forced to open the door and enter the room beyond. With an echoing bang, the door was shut behind me which left me in the room alone. Well, not really alone.

If my guess was right, then the place would be a rather poor clinic. There were a few dirty beds along the two walls to my right and left, some occupied by sleeping forms. In the middle was a large metallic table with straps attached to the sides, for legs and arms I presumed, and a strap where a head would go. Above, a crystal lamp hung menacingly. There were three of those magical things, in fact. One at the end of the room, and one above the door.

At the far end opposite me stood a smaller dog, his back turned to me as he pillaged through some tables and drawers full of stuff. Faint hissing and muttering could be heard from his direction.

With the bang of the door, the dog whipped his head around, eyes narrowed and lips pulled back. But as he saw me, his expression changed from that of anger and annoyance to a strange cocktail of curiosity and annoyance. It looked kind of funny, like he wasn’t sure how to use the mimic muscles on his face.

One of the dog’s ears started twitching madly as he took the first step toward me, a rather large knife held in right paw. When he was close enough to the table, he sneered again and mumbled something while pointing the scalpel at the metal table.

Oh hell no.

The dog was smaller than others, his head reaching somewhere below my chest. If it weren’t for the knife, I could probably deal with him with ease. At the thought, I looked left and right to find something I could smash against his face before he could smash his knife against mine with possibly bloodier results.

There were nightstands beside the beds, but they were barer than a baby’s ass. Maybe a nightstand itself would do. Alas, my train of thoughts derailed as the door behind me opened once more, and in right behind me stepped a dog that I, with horrifying realization, identified as the alpha. Well, he didn’t look like it, to be honest: average height compared to the dogs I’d seen, not really bulky or muscle-ripper, and not the prettiest. Maybe he was a jockey or something, taking care of but a part of something bigger than my impressions were. Maybe he had been slacking off in his boss’ chair, I don’t know. But then why did they bring me to him when I was caught?

Nevermind the questions, now wouldn’t be the time to strike, not against two opponents. And while the leader didn’t sport any weapons, his claws could probably still inflict some heavy damage.

Shit. What now?

Well, the dog by the table didn’t look merciful, and neither did the dog behind me. But then again, they could’ve killed me by now. Will they torture me here and then off me?

Without seeing any other option, I raised my arms, stepped to the table and clambered up on it before laying with my back against the cold metal. Luckily, they didn’t take away my shirt and pants.

Soon my head, legs, and arms were strapped to the table, the bindings holding strong and barely allowing me to budge with my limbs, all the while a knife was pressed against my neck. When that was done, then came the questions.

They stood above me, one at each side, looking down like gods appraising their creations; one scornful and the other curious. The angry one, the alpha, his face framed in shadows of the lamp hanging above him, started barking something at his smaller companion across him. That dog in return started jabbering while not taking his sight off me.

My eyes darted from left to right as they exchanged unknown words that I knew, on some instinctual level, would determine my fate. However, it didn’t take them long before the attention of both of them was solely on poor me. The alpha inquired something, but as before, I didn’t know what, and as such I answered.

“Bugger off!”

I guess we didn’t have to understand each other to know what the words meant. The dog sneered while the other looked on amused. However, before he could lay a paw on me, Doc stopped him with a few words, making him step back.

Doc leaned in closer to me and whispered something.

“Didn’t I make it plenty clear that I don’t understand you?” Normally I wouldn’t dare to snap back at my captors with sarcastic questions, but since they couldn’t understand, I saw no harm in letting some steam out.

Then the small dog stepped back too and out of my sight before a strange green light engulfed the room for a few seconds. What came back around was one of the ugliest things I ever had the misfortune to see.

Whatever it was, it looked vaguely human. A face with a nose, two eyes, big mouth, two ears, and hair. Normal, right?

What if I told you that the eyes were like an anime fan’s wet dream, the nose pinocchio reborn, the ears sharper than an edgy elf, the mouth could be dubbed The Great Devourer, and the hair grew all over its inhumanly human face?

First I cringed, but when it smiled, I blanched and shivered. The teeth gave the impression that a shark lived in its mouth.

But then it spoke, a voice smooth and calm—something that didn’t belong to the mouth of this abomination. And it spoke perfect English.

“I understand plenty now, thanks to you,” his smile grew as my eyes did the same.

“What the hell are you?” I gasped, the face drawing nearer with each word.

He stopped short of my face, dark brown eyes staring deep into mine.

“Someone curious. Someone in great want of answers.”

“How come you speak English just fine?” I asked as he finished writing the name of my species with a piece of charcoal onto a shabby scroll. First he asked my name, which I willingly said seeing no harm in doing so. Then he asked what I was, which I answered truthfully, knowing he would either recognize it or affirm my belief that truly humans weren’t part of this world.

As I had to spell it out for him, I guessed the latter was correct.

“I am a changeling, it’s my job.” He said joyfully, which surprised me. The guy was talkative and friendly something unexpected of my captors. He was also batshit crazy, with mental disorders up to the roof, like schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. While he was all smiley faces, he would sometimes darken into furious scowls he didn’t seem aware of, talking with his jovial voice through this mask of anger. It was damn weird.

Now we were the only two in the room, beside the silent patients. The alpha had left after we started talking English. Thus, me and the deranged lunatic, conversed.

“Am I correct in assuming by your name and the earlier display that you can change forms?

The changeling smiled a sharp-teeth filled smile as he wrote down some more, “Not only unique, but smart too!”

“Could you maybe change a little, then? Not to be mean, but you’re the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen guys with faces split in two.”

At that Doc frowned before suddenly bursting into a hiccuping laugh, “Oh my, you’re funny. I like you, whatever you are! I’ll ask the chief to let me keep you,” he practically muttered the last sentence under his breath as the smile faded from his face but not from his dark eyes, and I felt he was dead serious about it.

With a gulp I tried to steer the conversation onto a different track, “I already told you I am a human.”

A grunt and another frown. “That doesn’t tell me much, now does it?”

I tried to shrug, but the binds held strong. Too strong, as my hands slowly started growing cold and numb.

“So, can you change into a better representation of my species? Please?” I asked after a minute of awkward silence, but he just shook his head.

“Can’t do much without a mirror and a closer inspection of your body,” he eyed my body hungrily. “Speaking of which, let’s get down a little anatomy, heh?” With a wink, Doc started writing something again before asking, “Now, are you a male or a female?”

“Male.”

“How can you tell? Can you show me?”

For a second I couldn’t help but gape and mouth wordlessly. This guy...

“The subject is caught off guard, a point for me!” he scribed something with a grin.

I blinked a few times before giving him an incredulous look, “Is this some sort of game now?”

“Ah, silly human, it’s always been a game. You just didn’t know it.”

My head was starting to hurt. “Ok,” I tried to not sound frustrated, “am I being interrogated or what?”

“Ol’ Doggy seems to think so. Wanted me to ask you about what happened down one of the caves. That can wait for later, though. Now, what were we talking about?” He shot a look back where I knew the doors where, and where the alpha went at the beginning of this annoying talk, then turned back to me. “Oh, right, interrogation or something else? I don’t really care!”

“But?” I inquired. The changeling huffed and winked again with one of its terrible eyes.

“I am a scientist, I really don’t care what it is! I only care about answers!” His voice boomed as he raised his too long arms toward the ceiling. There were a few moans around me as the patients stirred in their sleep. “Anyway,” the mad scientist continued, ”where are you from?”

“Not from around here,” with a great sigh and eyes closed, memories of my home flashed through my mind. An empty home with two grieving parents.

“No shit,” he deadpanned, but again perked up not a second after. “Did I say that right? No shit as in ‘you don’t say’? What a strange idiom,” he mused.

“Yeah, you said it just great, alright. And where did you even learn this stuff?”

Doc just shrugged before grinning again. “Now, where are you really from?”

I honestly didn’t know what to think of him at this point. He was crazy enough, there was no point in hiding the place of my origin. No one would believe him anyway, and it’s not like he could do anything with the information.

“I am an alien from a different planet that was sucked into this hellhole through some purple portal swirling thingy.”

“Oh,” he mouthed a silent ‘o’ and his face lit with recognition, “that’d explain all the stuff!” he grinned unnaturally and the charcoal and the scroll over his shoulders and somewhere out of my sight.

Then the dog turned human just stood there as if frozen, hand slightly raised, a grin splitting his face in two halves. And I was terrified like never before.

“Dude,” I tried to break the tension, “I can’t feel my hands and legs.”

That seemed to pull him out of his frozen-like state. He hummed and looked at my numb hands.

“The straps are too tight,” I added at last.

“Well, alright.” With those words he started fumbling with the straps, and as I felt the hold weaken, I pulled my arm upward as hard as I could. The strap went flying free and my hand shot out like a sprung catapult, hitting the small human-like creature straight in the face with the back of my numb hand. There was a crack, but no pain followed. ‘Tis a great day to have no feeling in my hand.

The same couldn’t be said about the changeling. He yelped and his head snapped back. Not a second after, he lost his balance and fell backward, but I couldn’t see much more. There was a loud bang, though, and when after few seconds the changeling made no sound, I assumed he was knocked out cold.

As soon as the ability to move my fingers came back to, the strap on my left hand was removed, followed by my head and legs.

Free once again.

My back was killing me. My whole body was killing me, but the pain was momentarily forgotten in all these adrenalin-inducing situations.

Right now my ass was uncomfortably pressed against the hard metal table as I waited for my legs to stop tingling like mad. My hands were practically fine now, but that was because only they were strapped, not my entire arms. My legs were numb from knees down, and as such were still numb and tingling all over the place.

Of course, that’s when Doc started to stir awake. He lay on the hard floor before one of the beds. He must’ve hit his head on the bed frame as he fell.

Without the full feeling back in my legs, I wouldn’t run far. So I picked the closest thing I could hit him with as he began to climb onto his feet: a certain crystal lamp dangling from a thin rope tied to a hook on the ceiling. Just within my reach, too.

As the changeling rose slowly to his feet or paws or whatever, I raised both of my hands holding the lantern high above my head, the cold metal and glass thing heavy and reassuring. Doc moaned then looked sluggishly in my direction before noticing the lamp already closing in on his head.

“No!” he yelled, but it was already too late for him, and the lantern hit him across the jaw, knocking him back down again. But with the momentum and having to reach the farthest I could, my balance was lost and my whole upper body tipped forward. With hands full, there was nothing to catch myself with, so I fell and hit the floor hard, joining the moaning Doc on the floor.

“You fucking idiot,” he wheezed, holding one paw (hand being too strong of a word for this abomination) to the spot where I hit him and the other hand to the side of his face. “Do you want to kill us all?!”

I rolled over onto my back, my hands clutching my hurting face. There wasn’t blood, so I guess things weren’t that bad. Immediately I rolled my head around searching for the lamp. It was under the table, so that’s where I crawled.

As the changeling saw this, he tried to get up, but immediately fell and bumped his head against the floor again with a yelp. That didn’t stop him from yelling as much as he could, though. “No, stop! It could blow up!”

With those words and a hand on the handle I freezed. “What did you say?”

“The crystal… too much bumping… boom.” He made a broad gesture with his arms in between deep breaths.

I looked back at the thing I held, the metal frame of the lantern bent, the glass broken—something I didn’t expect of such a sturdy looking metal and glass. The crystal was squished inside. Now that I looked closer, the lantern looked like a cheap knock-off compared to the lanterns I had seen back in the village. Well, at least now the mystery of Jack not letting me meddle with these things was solved.

Slowly, my fingers eased around the handle, and even more slowly I crawled back from under the table, fearing a simple tremor could offset the supposedly volatile thing. There was a sigh of great relief as the changeling lay down on the floor, motionless. Not a second after, great snoring tore through the quiet.

Seriously…

By the time this was all over, only pain remained as all feeling came to my limbs. Picking myself off the floor while grunting, I leaned against the metal table, looking around. Doc was out cold, patients were out cold, everything was just damn cold to be honest.

“So,” my voice echoed through the unnaturally silent room.

“What now?”

I had the tendency to talk to myself in stupid situations.

Doc was heavy even though he was two heads shorter than me, and touching him felt like sticking a hand into a nest of hairy spiders that crawled up my arms. Carefully like a newlywed bride, I set him on the metal table, hands and legs spread so I could easily bind them with the straps. He was too short for the head strap, though.

The alpha hadn’t shown up yet, so that was definitely a huge plus. I had the time to interrogate him, the plan forming in my head as I picked a knife off the floor that must’ve fallen there when we thrashed about. It was the same weapon that I had been threatened with.

Sweet, sweet irony.

“Wakey, wakey,” I whispered and felt a huge grin tugging at the sides of my face. Then followed with a slap that would make my granny tear up with pride.

“Gah!” he tried to get up, but the binds held firm and wouldn’t budge, except his chest and head that rose into the air as they couldn’t be strapped. However, the feedback brought him back with a heavy revenge; a thud, painful moan, and now he lay on the table motionless.

“The tables have turned.” He turned his head my way as I spoke those words with as much dramatic menace as I could muster.

“What?” He looked down, checking himself and the surroundings before again looking at me. “The table’s the same.”

It took great willpower not to facepalm, instead just rolling my eyes. “It’s an idiom.”

“Ah,” he sighed in comprehension, whether fake or not I couldn’t tell.

“Anyway, now I am going to ask you some questions.” And with those words I held his knife up above him, blade pointing down at his chest as if to sacrifice him.

His eyes widened a little, his face sweaty and ugly as ever. With voice trembling and barely hearable he peeped out, “Okay.”

My arm started to hurt so I drew it back and instead lay the knife on his stomach, where he could feel it against his hairy skin, nice and cold.

“Alright, first things first – Tell me what this place is, exactly.”

The changeling drew a deep breath, then nodded.

“You’re in a den of diamond dogs.”

“Diamond dogs?”

“Yes, that’s what they’re called, the dogs you see around here.”

“Why ‘diamond’ dogs?”

“I don’t know, because they eat gems I guess?”

I couldn’t quite believe what he said. “They eat gems?”

“Well, yes.”

“How does that even work?”

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know? Aren’t you a doctor or something?”

“Well, yes, kind of.”

“Then how come you don’t know!?”

“I just don’t!”

By the end of our conversation we were shouting at each other, his head and chest raised as far from the table as he could, while I drew nearer.

“Alright,” I breathed out calmly while drawing back to maintain some distance between us. “Fine, whatever, they eat gems. Now, what else can you tell me about this place.”

He lowered himself back onto the table. Eyes closed he answered, “Well, what else would there be? I mean, we’re mining stuff here and then we send it back to the Diamond dogs’ homeland, and we use slaves to do that.”

“Yeah,” I grimaced, “slaves.”

To my surprise, he cringed a little too and said, “I know. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really approve either. I probably would’ve been a slave if I didn’t spend so much time impersonating a doctor. But it’s not like we’re treating the slaves badly.”

I almost sputtered in disbelief. My ears must’ve been deceiving me. A slave supporting slavers? No matter that the things I’d seen here didn’t really support his claim.

“Are you serious? You’d support those who have enslaved you? And what about the gryphon that fell unconscious because of exhaustion? What about the children?”

“The gryphon, what- Oh, that gryphon.” He sighed. “He’s just seriously ill, not much I can do. And the children are just a mere precaution. We don’t beat them or do other stuff to them. They’re kept well fed and stuff. Hell, we don’t even beat the slaves. Most of the time.”

“Even if you treated them like kings and queens, you’re still slavers,” I spat. “And to use children like that!” There was anger, hot and clenching, building in my chest, so I started pacing back and forth to let some of it dissipate. To think somebody would treat my brother like that. “Fucking bastards!”

Maybe he was really ashamed, maybe he just played it. Nevermind either, I couldn’t bear to see his ugly face a while longer.

“They don’t really have a choice, you know,” Doc said uncharacteristically softly as I had my back turned to him. “There’s a great war back in their motherland. It looms on the horizon, threatening their homes and their families. Worse yet, enough blood to paint a river red has already been spilled on both sides. And those with more gems – food and money… win.”

There was nothing but silence. Not a patient stirred, not a bed creaked, not a sound was made by both of us.“Tell me, wouldn’t you do the same if it meant a safe home; safety for those you love?”

“You would justify the actions of your captors?”

While there was no way for me to see, I could feel him squirming.

“You don’t know anything about us, about me; you couldn’t possibly understand. No matter what they do, in the end I just know what it’s like to lose everything.”

“Then make me understand,” my voice was quiet, but still loud enough to be heard as I turned to him. It resonated strangely, and I looked back into his horrible eyes.

“I am a changeling. Our race had lost our home, we failed at our only chance to amount to something more than parasitism, we were scattered to the seven winds. Hunted, hated. Do you have any idea what it’s like? But these dogs, they’ve given me a chance, a real chance to be able to amount to something, even if it’s being a flimsy doctor or scientist! To be something more than a pretender! And by the queen that’s no more, I am going to help them win their damn war no matter what!” He heaved and wreathed and spittle flew from his mouth, but in the end he settled back, that horrible smile of his back. “We’re gonna win it, because I’ll be the one to lead it!”

“You’re too far gone in your head,” I said, not quite sure what to think about this particular kind of crazy.

“You would do the same were you in my place, admit it!”

I just shook my head. “No. Never would I lay a hand on a child, you miserable cunt. Never.”

Just then the door opened, and as my head turned, I saw the angry Alpha storming in, shutting the door behind himself. All the while he was shouting something. But when he noticed Doc and me, he stopped, staring with his mouth open.

My back was to Doc, so I couldn’t see as he changed, but I knew because the telltale green light filled the room once again. In surprise my body automatically jumped and turned toward the light.

Where before lay an abomination of a human, now lay an abomination of one of those pony creatures, though those could be considered abominations unto themselves. Doc looked like one of those ponies, but instead of fur he had black skin or chitin, instead of a mane he had one of those strange fin-like things, and from the middle of his forehead a wicked horn curved upward. He smiled a sharp-teethed smiled as I realized he was out of his binds, now being smaller than before allowing him to slip from them.

“Surprise motherbucker,” he hissed.

Of course, why didn’t I think of him being able to do that before?

I felt more than heard as the diamond dog behind me moved toward me. However, as luck would have it, the door slammed open once again. All three of us turned our heads to the newcomer.

Not sure what the newcomer was, but I’d have to go with male. A small dog, noticeably young was heaving against the door, panting fast and shallow breaths. The look on the alpha’s face was angry at first, but then softened as he walked over to the – for a lack of better word – whelp, leaving me momentarily forgotten.

He crouched down near him, talking softly but firmly. The kid started talking in short sentences, panting all the while. But whatever they were talking about was cut off as a painful cry echoed through the corridors followed by other yells and cries.

The alpha stood up quickly. He turned back at the changeling, now standing on the metal table, barked something and then he was off, running into the dark corridors, shouldering the whelp aside.

I dared to look questioningly at Doc. “What’s going on?” I whispered more than asked.

“Trouble,” he gruffed grimly still looking into the dark corridor that lay out of light’s reach, the sound of fighting shaking the cavernous halls.

Chapter 11: When the morning has broken

Chapter 10: Blue Sorrow - Part III.

While Doc was so nicely distracted, I noticed the knife that had fallen off him sometime during our tirade of a conversation. I dove for it, hitting the ground hard but with success. The changeling stared with wonder at my glorious feat of acrobatics. That is, until he noticed what I now had in my hands.

Immediately leaping from the table, he tried to pounce at me only to receive a foot of hard steel into his side where it lodged firmly into his carapace. With a piercing scream, he tore with his hooves at the wounded side as he landed next to me, thrashing and yelling, blue blood sprinkling everywhere.

Trying to get away from him, I rolled under the table, incidentally bumping the broken crystal lantern with my back. For a moment, my heart stopped beating as I realized what pressed against my back, but when nothing happened, I immediately rolled back a little before turning around and getting on my hands and knees which was as much as I could do under such a low table. Then I slowly stepped over the lantern before rolling from underneath the table on the other side, getting the precious piece of metal between me and the raging changeling.

I’d be damned if this wouldn’t attract some attention. Quickly looking around for any other weapon, I noticed the still standing cub by the door, looking at us frightened. I felt sorry for him, and in the momentary chaos waved at him awkwardly.

“Weapon, weapon, weapon,” Muttering under my breath, my eyes searched, but the nearest possibility of a weapon were the racks at the end of the room.

However, before I could even try to get there, there was a loud crack followed by utter silence. That was even more terrifying than an enraged creature with shapeshifting powers. Slowly, I turned my head toward the changeling, my mind conjuring images of beasts that could be waiting for me to turn around before pouncing.

But it was none of those things. Over the changeling, claws firmly grasping the shapeshifter’s head, stood a gryphon the color of deep sea, his face set into a grim expression of determination, eyes hard and brows furrowed.

He didn’t look sleepy, he didn’t look weary, and he sure as all hell he didn’t look sick nor guilty over the fact he’s just killed another sapient being.

“Hello botě katy,” he hissed through clenched beak, looking down at the changeling but feeling it was addressed at me.

“Uh, you too I guess,” I answered as he let go of the changeling’s head, his body slumping to the ground. He's not going anywhere anymore, I winced at the treatment of the now less-than-alive Doc. Dunno what it was, but I actually felt a little bad about his death.

Then the gryphon finally looked at me, and we sort of stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us blinking.

Then came the whimper. Both of our heads snapped toward the little cub by the door. He was now huddled into a bundle in the corner by one bed, arms hugging legs close to his chest. Poor kid was a pitifully sad sight to behold, and it made my heart ache.

There was some commotion going on behind the door. Immediately, I started for the racks and drawers in the back of the room and started ravaging through them looking for some kind of weapon. Seeing out of the corner of my eye, the gryphon was yanking the knife out of the dead changeling.

What I found was much more than I had hoped for

In the lowest and longest drawer lay what looked like a well cared for sword. It wasn’t anything impressive; a plain wooden sheath with cold metal grip sticking out, but right here and now was the greatest find of the century. It raised a few questions why would such a sword be tucked away in the back of some clutter-filled drawer. Probably in case of emergency.

And this was one hell of an emergency.

I got up from my knees, the heavy thing held in both of my hands. I took the grip with my right hand and pulled the sword free of its sheath. The blade itself was chipped and scratched in many places, but sharpened to impossible thinness nonetheless. It would do its job, and it would do it well.

I was giving it a few practice swings – more for show than actual practicing – when the blade hit something above me with a loud chiming noise. Looking up, above me was draped from the ceiling another crystal lamp, and before I knew it, I was smiling like a madman.

“Fiah’ in da’ hole!”

“What?”

I didn’t give him the chance to say anything else as I threw the… modified lamp into the hallway and among some surprised armored dogs. Of course that’s what I imagined as I shut the door with excessive force and jumped behind one of the now unoccupied beds.

After I had managed to find the sword and think of my devious plan, the gryphon had gone and tried to wake everyone up. Some had woken up, some hadn’t and those we had to move into the far back corner. No one had paid the terrified kid in the corner much attention.

The gryphon was doing the talking of course. Hell, in the chaos that ensued from all of this moving about, no one really paid much attention to me either. Yeah, I was unknown and stuff, but I guess they had better things to worry about since I appeared to be on their side. Which I am.

While they were moving some of the last patients, my mind turned toward the lamp. Gently I moved to the door with it, and with the back of the hilt of my sword, I shattered the thin glass on one side of the lantern so that I would get access to the crystal and its pedestal.

With as much precision as my shaking hands would let me, and without actually touching the crystal itself, I started bending the thin metal claws that held the crystal firmly in place on the pedestal. Not wanting to remove the crystal completely, I bent and “accidently” broke only the two claw-like strips closest to me, leaving the other two intact. That meant that the crystal itself was still quite firmly in place so it wouldn’t topple to the side and out, but would go flying the moment anything shook with it strongly.

Basically, if what the changeling had told me was true, I just made a bomb. All I had to do was throw it or clumsily drop it at my feet and it would go boom.

I was just finishing with my bomb when a lot of the diamond dog’s barking speech came from somewhere far, but was gradually getting louder and closer.

Now or never, I thought and proceed with my plan.

I won’t lie that actually throwing it was harder than I make it out to be. They were still sapient, intelligent beings, with feelings and- fuck it, they’re slavers. I should blow them up a thousand times for that atrocity.

A great booming sounded through the air and through the rock itself. The bed I was hiding behind shook. There was a lot of screaming, though faint and overshadowed by the sound of explosion as it tore down the door to our room. It splintered into several pieces that went flying across the room, but none far enough to be any danger to the gryphons and a single pony. Through the opening spilled bluish fire and it reached for the ceiling, rolling in waves like ocean upon a shore, before vanishing into nothingness.

The heat washed over me like a damn hot blanket, but not enough to burn me.

However, it wasn’t over. With the heat came another… force, for lack of a better word. This force wasn’t anything I’d ever felt before. It didn’t roll in a wave like heat, it didn’t push me like a shockwave. No, it came to me, and then through me; an intangible force of energy like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

Only then was it truly over.

I felt but a small tinge of regret about killing them that was again dispelled by the thought of slavery. The thought of how they possibly tortured the children – even if Doc claimed otherwise – made my blood boil. Anything pertaining violence towards children made my blood boil. I’ve felt like this since my lil’ brother came to be. I guess I just became overprotective of him after finally not being a single child. It could get lonely, you know.

Anyway, after the heat passed, I finally peaked out from behind the bed to take a look around. The prisoners were terrified, the navy gryphon stared at me dumbfounded, and where maybe half a dozen dogs had stood only charred remnants plastered all over the hallway remained. The smell of it all hit me not a second later.

Hmm, smelled just like KFC.

Jumping behind the bed reminded me how sore my body really was, and now it screamed for attention, demanding a rest which I couldn’t afford. Picking myself off the floor with the sword I had lain close by in my right hand, I drew it out of its scabbard. Slowly, lightly, I trod to the open doorway with the sword raised slightly in front of me.

Taking a more careful look into the hallway, it indeed confirmed that everyone was fried and as of now existed in multiple places at once, especially in the area of the closest walls, which now reminded me of a decade uncleaned chimney.

There were also some stones, the roof and walls having collapsed a little at the place of explosion, but nothing heavy and nothing that would obscure the way.

I turned back to the patients behind me. Some stared at me, some at the blown doorway, with mixed reactions of fear, awe, and confusion. I nodded to them, they let their breaths out and started whispering amongst themselves. The blue gryphon, however, approached me near the doorway.

He stared at me intensely with a thoughtful expression as if he didn’t know what to make of me. That’s alright, I thought, I don’t really know what to make of me either. I gave him a neutral look. When our eyes locked, we engaged in a silent staring contest. After a few seconds he looked away, down the corridor, before scrunching his beak, grimacing in disgust as he breathed in the smell and took in the sights.

Then, with a flick of his dark head plumage – which was something like hair – he turned around, walking back to the patients to check up on them. They were now in all kinds of distress, some moaning with new-found pain, some just passively nodding off.

There was no help to be found here, and there would be no help found in loitering, so I left them behind as I walked into the black, charred remnants crunching beneath my boots.

Not long after, I came upon the first T section; one hallway went straight, the other turned left. The one going left was the only one I didn’t know anything about. The other corridors led to the clinic, the prison or the main hall. So, my curiosity getting the better of me, I walked left, soon coming upon another door.

However, there was something special about this door. Unlike the others, this one was carefully crafted and studded with steel plates. And, in contrast to the other doors separating rooms from corridors, this one had a large keyhole in it.

Naturally, I tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Trying a few more times without success, I left the door behind with some reluctance. There was something really important about them, and it irritated me for some reason.

Now that I had the time to look around, I started to appreciate my surroundings. Though no doubt dug with the hands of slaves, the cavernous hallways made for an exciting place, the stone smoothed into perfection, yet still giving off the vibe of an underground hideout. The plays of sparse, flickering lightning of a few torches here and there played shadow games over the walls, making me see things though there there were none. I didn’t feel the need to jump at every flicker, for I knew there wasn’t enough space to hide in the narrow passages and its shadows.

All in all, an amazing atmosphere was achieved.

When the next split in hallways came, another dog finally appeared. He came running from behind a turn – silent on his paws – just as I was nearing it, nearly piercing himself on my sword. That would’ve worked for him if I didn’t lunge with the sword forward on instinctive reaction, pinning him in the chest where his heart was.

He gave a squeal of surprise before dropping dead on the floor while his weapon, a narrow blade of dark metal, clattered noisily on the rock floor. My sword dropped with him, still sticking out of his chest. For a second I stood there frozen, gripped in shock. It was pure luck that I hadn’t been standing a little closer, otherwise I would’ve been the one pinned on a weapon. His weapon.

I need to be damn more careful, I reprimanded myself, before pulling my sword out of his chest. It took some effort. The blade got stuck between ribs protecting the heart. As the sword got unstuck, a steady stream of blood gushed out of the wound. For a second, staring at the gushing liquid of life in wonder flashed me a memory of the first diamond dog I had killed. Despite the fact that the first had been a slaver most likely too, there was something powerful and unforgettable about the act. The first act of murder.

I stepped over his corpse, moving along the wall as silently as I could. Before crossing, I peeped over the intersection to make sure no other dog was there, and as I peered, the noises of fighting got louder. I could see silhouettes moving, their shadows falling into the space behind the throne.

Ignoring that, I moved forward with a quick step toward the prison. If there was a fight going on, the prisoners could be in grave danger, especially the children.

We couldn’t have that, now could we?

There was some commotion going on behind the door to the prison, but I stopped myself from barging in. Instead, I slowly creeped over to the door handle, before subtly opening the door and peering inside.

There were three gryphons there, armed with various makeshift weaponry that could be found lying around, one of them opening the prison cells with a ring of keys. I recognized that one as a prisoner from the group of slaves I had freed. Opening the door fully, I let my presence be known.

The other two gryphons that were overlooking the cells, talking in hushed voices, jumped up with their weapons ready to strike. They let out ferocious growls, faces scrunched up with fury, eyes promising brutal death.

However, before they could do anything, the third gryphon got in their way, shaking his head while talking quickly. The two gryphons seemed to cool down a little. Not much, but at least enough to not have them try to stab me.

I nodded thankfully at the gryphon with the keyring I… acquired earlier still firmly in his claws. He went back to opening the cells.

The children inside were terrified, huddled as far inside their cells as they could. Couldn’t blame them, though.

The one unconscious gryphon locked in the cell with some of the kids was still out.

Knowing the children were in safe hands – err, claws – I went back outside. Again, carefully peering around the corner, I checked whether it was safe or not. The fighting seemed to reach its pinnacle, now slowly dying down.

For all the bravado I felt after single-handedly killing so many of the slavers, it wouldn’t do me much good in a chaotic fight with many opponents. Yet, not doing anything would probably be worse. Contemplating what to do, I was interrupted as something slammed down the corridor where the clinic lay.

What was that?

The sound had an ominous feeling to it. In this place, at this time, with the ever looming presence of danger, my body and mind screamed at me to ignore the noise as if it never happened.

But I was stronger now.

Not a second later, my legs carried me through the hallway and to the clinic door, only checking to see if the corridor leading to the mysterious door was clean of any nasty surprises in the form of armed diamond dogs.

However, the clinic was still in pretty much the same. The navy gryphon looked at me as I entered, but only gave me a passing glance as he was checking up on some patient.

One thing was missing though. The small diamond dog.

There’s no way he could’ve escaped, I thought while looking at the spot where he had been.

He couldn’t have passed through me. Even distracted by the gryphons in the prison, the gryphons or me would’ve noticed something. That meant he was only at one possible place.

Turning around, I slowly crept to the mysterious, locked door. Well, not so locked anymore. I tried the door handle again, and the heavy thing swung open.

It felt like entering a different world. The cave itself was dark, gloomy, the air riddled with the despair of those who toiled away from the sun, away from hope, nothing but blue light of crystals leading them in this blind world. But the room beyond was the exact opposite. Lavish with a carpet, though obviously heavily used. A couch sat in one corner next to a king-sized bed with two pillows and a nice blanket folded upon the mattress. Furniture crafted to perfection, yet scratched with heavy use, dotted the room; a chair big enough for a gryphon to sit in tucked beneath a mahogany table with many drawers. A bookshelf with actual books. And a chandelier hanging from a high ceiling.

There was no doubt that this was the alpha’s room. Not really expecting such a grandiose sight, I foolishly stepped inside without first looking around.

That’s when the cub attacked. He came flying from around the corner where he hid behind a wardrobe. His form was not enough to topple me over, but I still stumbled, dropping my sword. The dog latched firmly onto my side, paws clutching my back and chest, scratching and trying to bite me. Though before he could do the latter, he already went flying back at the wardrobe, scratching me as I tore him off myself with both of my arms. “Fuck!” I yelled as pain laced through my back and chest where he grabbed me.

While not really all that strong, I did work out occasionally and a month of village life up in the gryphon mountain village had only positive effects on my body. But most of all, the kid was scrawny, more bone and hide on him than muscles. As such, he didn’t take the fall too good as he bounced off the wardrobe with a loud thud.

The now extremely vulnerable looking cub lay on the floor, whimpering. A sound so helpless and childlike that it broke my heart.

Oh shit.

“Dammit, kid, I didn’t mean-” I was at his side already, rolling him carefully over. There were three small gashes, one on his scalp, the other on his face. They trickled droplets of blood. It wasn’t anything serious, but still looked like all the world’s pain on his furry face.

“Sorry,” I muttered in Balderdash. His ears flicked at the word, but that was about that. After that he stopped moving. For a second my breath caught up in my chest, but as he inhaled, though shallowly, again, I sighed with relief. I carefully picked him up and put him on the kingside bed, but not doing much else.

Only then did I start to notice my own wounds. Four shallow cuts trailed from the middle of my chest all the way to my right side. I could only imagine the same thing was on my back.

This will leave scars.

And as I was looking, I noticed a silent figure standing in the doorway. He was standing there, red with blood, face laced with shock as he looked at the unconscious form near the bed. Then he noticed me.

I nearly shat my pants as the alpha’s shock turned into the most horrifying expression of rage I had ever seen.

I was deeply and utterly fucked.

The alpha shot forward at inhuman speeds, shouldering me so hard I flew sideways at a wall upon which my frail form splattered and slid down onto the hard carpet. The dog took the wind out of my lungs. The impact left me dizzy and disoriented. New pains flared at so many places I started losing consciousness, almost falling into the obscurity of sleepful bliss. But I didn’t quite topple over the edge. The darkness didn’t overcome me, but let me float upon it like a calm ocean, leaving me drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

I cracked my eyes open just a bit. Unfocused, I rolled them over until they fell upon the blurry form of the alpha dog, his back to me as he looked at something.

The kid, I thought weakly.

A voice rang out, but no one heeded its calling.

The alpha turned to me, his face contorted in pain and rage. He stared at me, the intensity of it telling me everything he intended to do to me once he was done with whatever he was doing. Then he turned away from me.

The sword was surprisingly close to me. Perhaps another stroke of luck, perhaps deus ex machina, but it left me with an option. Kill or be killed, my mind screamed at me, my instincts joining soon after. There was nothing else, no other choice.

Slowly, I reached out toward the sword, hand touching the grip, grasping it. My hand felt numb around the weapon. My whole body felt numb. The pain was pushed so far back, such a distant echo it even might not have ever been.

The calling was stronger now, its desperation trickling through my muddled mind. The dog, in the corner of my eye, started shaking something, but after a small while stopped and stepped over behind the bed, and in the space between the couch and the bed, he opened a small door and swung it open.

Then he ran to the wardrobe, picking something out of it. Hurrying to the small form upon the bed, pulling something white over its head.

Paying that no mind – not like I could pay attention to anything happening around me in my current state – I slowly started hauling myself off the carpeted floor. Groaning and moaning somewhat, with the entirety of my left arm propping myself against the wall, I turned toward the alpha who was still too much distracted with the small form splayed across the bed.

One shuffling step after another. I slowly inched my way toward his exposed back in impossible silence. Swaying softly on my numb legs, both of my hands clasping the sword as tightly as I could, I might’ve looked like a drunken madman. But that didn’t cross my mind. Only the decision was in the forefront of all my thoughts.

There was a special bond between the alpha and the dog, and it would’ve taken a blind man or someone who’d never known love for their family to not recognize that bond. It was that of a father fearing for his son.

And then I stood close, so close… the decision now rang through my mind like the great bells of a thousand churches combined.

In that one fateful moment, I weighed the life of a father and his son to the uncertain life of a lost brother. Maybe you would decide without even thinking about it, maybe I would do the same, but in that muddled state of mind, in reach of the one that stood in my way like a wall with but one weakness exposed for but a short fraction of time… it was the hardest decision I’d ever made.

But the bells rang their song, and I listened and followed, for I was the one that had to sing with them. I rang them back at the mountain of gryphon village. The bells of hope and determination for my little brother...

The sword, heavier than ever, rose slowly in my fragile hands. The eyes focused on but one point at the back of this creature, this wall that was built with a weakness that I was to exploit.

The blade latched hungrily at the hide, the sinew, the muscle. It slashed, it tore, it ended what wasn’t meant to end.

The alpha weakly turned around as he started to fall.

One would think he would have heard me approaching with his supreme hearing. One would think he would have smelled me as I stood near him. One would think he would have seen me in the corner of his eyes.

But he did none of this, for his eyes were blurred with tears, his nose clogged with held-back sobs, his ears splayed backward in fright. All for the safety of his son.

A leader, fearless and powerful, one that ruled over an entire pack of feral creatures that respected nada but strength. Unshakeable, but for one weakness. Weakness that I dared to exploit.

The love of a parent for his child.

Chapter 12: Latimer's mercy

Chapter 11: When the morning has broken

When I woke up, my world was on fire.

Deep aching washed over my body in pulses of dull pain that came with my heartbeat. Panic settled in, and as my heart rate increased, so too did my misery

W-what?

My eyes were hazy, watered with unshed tears. In the blurred world, dizziness hit me with an onslaught, pain erupted in the back of my head, and I had to settle down or risk throwing up all over myself.

Probably concussion, some rational part of my mind, not gripped with fear and pain, told me.

I tried to squirm around but I couldn’t. My hands and legs were bound.

This is it, the thought hit me. I severed the head, but the body’s still living.

Surely they would come any moment now, the dogs furious about the death of their leader. They would torture me to death, bring upon me even greater pain before ending it all in eternal darkness.

And that thought scared me.

But the fear didn’t grip me in its claws. Rather, it helped me clear the haziness away both from my mind and my sight. I blinked a few times, tears escaping and trickling down my face, before falling into a bucket below me.

That’s when I realized the pressure on my stomach and ribs. I was lying face down on some kind of… bed, I guess. I couldn’t move my head around, as it was lodged into some kind of opening.

At the bottom of the bucket was, what I somehow realized, my drool. There was a lot of it, and the image of translucent liquid immediately flared up great thirst in me. Smacking my lips a bit to wet them and prevent them from cracking, I proceeded to roll my eyes around trying to see more of my surroundings. However, my entire vision was filled with the wooden bucket and tiled floor.

There’s something more I realized. Sunlight gleamed off the liquid. Honest to god sunlight. That meant my ass was no longer stuck in the underground hell of blue crystals. But how did I get here?

As the sunlight reflected upon the bucket, it made my eyes hurt. Pain once again overwhelmed the back of my head, and darkness crept up on me in the corner of my eyes for a few seconds.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun had visibly moved. Perhaps a few hours had gone. But nevermind that, as the pain receded greatly during my impromptu nap. With my senses no longer overrun by agony, I decided to bring some attention to myself.

“Hello?” Calling out with my hoarse throat was almost painful. I needed a drink, and I don’t just mean water.

When no one came, I tried in Balderdash, the language still strange on my tongue even after all this time. Yelling again took more of my meagre strength, nonetheless I forced myself to be louder. “Hello?”

Yet again no one answered. No one came.

“Dammit,” I wheezed out, before closing my mouth and gulping air in vain attempt to ease the scratchiness of my throat. With nothing more to do, I eased myself into the bed or whatever I lay on.

Closing my eyes once again, silence fell upon me like a blanket. Light at first, but heavy all too soon.

The silence pressed on me still, and it made me think about unpleasant things.

The dogs. The air suddenly became acrid with iron and scald. My hands felt the bed under me, soft, like the fur of the dog I sneaked up on.

But I didn’t feel regret, surprisingly. I felt… indifferent, really. Though the thought of killing others wasn’t pleasant, I was convinced, for better or worse, that they deserved it. To enslave others and hold their children hostage—yes, they deserved everything that came to them, though looking back to my time in the prison cell, the children weren’t malnourished or visibly wounded. Perhaps what Doc’d said was true.

Doesn’t make it right, my own answer shattered any kind of remorse that could bubble up in the compassionate part of my heart.

Then, however, the cry of one particular dog echoed seemingly in the empty room. The cry of pain as he hit the wardrobe, cracking it slightly.

The tears of a dog that had to see his son get hurt.

What would I do if I saw my own little brother’s body battered? What would I do to the one responsible?

Trying to shake off the rising thoughts and images that I dared not to think about, but failing miserably with my head still trapped in the opening of the bed, I instead focused on my own spit drifting slowly from my mouth before falling into the bucket below. But the thoughts we try to push out always come back the hardest.

I did it for my brother. Yes. Everything. The killing, the hurting, all of it. And I would do it all over again if it meant being closer to Michael, even if by just a step toward his direction.

They deserved it. Yes, they did. Yes, for Michael.

While being enthralled by my thoughts and my own drool glistening in what appeared to be an afternoon light, my ears didn’t pick up the soft sound of padded paws on the tiled floor, until a goddamn gryphon pushed the bucket away with his head, dopey smile plastered on his face, and beak parted in a cheery, “Hello!”

I jumped in my bed, painfully jerking against the restraints. Saliva went flying everywhere. That erased the smile off the gryphon’s face, but brought a grin to my own.

“Sorry, Paul,” I half chuckled, half gasped for breath from the pain that flared in my left lower back.

My friend gave me a death glare, before moving away from underneath the table and out of my sight.

“A little, umm, help, over here?” I called out after him, hoping he wouldn’t leave me strapped here for whatever reason.

“Yes, yes,” he muttered and sputtered a little, before again appearing in front of my face. “Kočpej,” he said.

“Coczpay?” I repeated, tasting the word.

He sighed, before carefully saying in Balderdash and gesturing along, “I –” he jabbed a talon at himself “– go.”

Then he pointed in some direction to the left. I nodded before he continued, “You –” he almost poked my eye out “– Kočpat here.”

He raised his... index talon, I guess, then pointed to the ground. I guess he wanted me to stay or something. Not like I had the option of going anywhere. Speaking of going somewhere, my bladder was killing me.

Still, I nodded but inquired in an urgent tone, “Hurry! I need to pee. Psst psst, aaah! You know?”

Paul nodded uncertainly before moving away. Soon there was the sound of a door being shut. Silence reigned once more.

Not a moment too soon the sound of a door opening woke me from my reverie. Two voices engaged in a conversation drifted into the room, coming closer to me. One I recognized as Paul’s, the other I didn’t know.

About damn time. Another half an hour and I’d probably let it out right there and then.

“Robdé náro,” said the unfamiliar voice.

“Hello,” I replied, not really knowing what the unfamiliar gryphon said. Well, I assumed it was a gryphon. In my reverie, I’d started assuming I was back in the lumberjacking village, in some kind of clinic perhaps.

The straps binding me loosened up, and I would’ve risen up immediately if something didn’t start holding me down. No, that’s not the correct phrase. It felt more like something pressed against me from all sides, holding me in place. There was also a strange faint light of mint green at the edge of my vision.

The something took hold of me, and it moved me into a sitting position without ever letting me go. As the elevation changed, my vision darkened while blood came pouring into my brain. It made me dizzy and sick again, but not enough to start projecting my inner self into the surrounding world.

When my mind cleared, I noticed something. I couldn’t move my head, body, nothing. Couldn’t even lift a finger. That got my fear meter rising again.

“Hms hin hon?” What’s going on, I tried to ask, realizing soon that my mouth was out of my control, too.

But now, at least, the whole room and its additional two occupants beside me were revealed.

The room definitely had the “hospital” kind of feeling to it. White walls that weren’t surprisingly wood. The floor wasn’t either—large, white tiles covering every inch of it. The daylight was coming from my right, so I assumed there was a window or two there. Unless there was more space behind me, the whole room wasn’t really big, but could fit another patient nonetheless.

The big surprise, however, was the small ochre unicorn wearing a labcoat dwarfed by the bigger gryphon standing beside him, who was also shooting me a happy grin.

His horn was glowing with light green aura. The same color I could see in the corner of my eyes was enveloping me.

So, this is magic? More curious than afraid now, I studied the curling light around his horn as he slowly stepped in front of me, then behind me.

Suddenly, there was a jab of searing pain in my left lower back that overshadowed the dull ache of my entire body. Yelping with my mouth still closed, the aura held me still, thus preventing me from jerking from the pain.

There was a silent, “tsk!” from the doctor’s direction, then a slightly louder, “hmm!” I hmm’d in return.

The aura suddenly disappeared. I could feel myself being released. That meant now was the time for something else to get released. Since there were no doors in front of me, I turned my gaze left as the doctor went back to Paul, with whom he started chitchatting.

There was a door there, plain and white. Those probably led outside, because as I slowly looked behind myself – while the pain in my lower back returned as I did so – there was another door, but this time with a big water drop painted on it in black. No guesses there.

Not wasting time I slowly got up. However, as soon as my feet hit the ground, my legs kicked into overdrive and my entire body basically flew to the bathroom door. There was a shout from behind me, but I paid it no mind. Almost tearing the door off its hinges, I scrambled inside, slamming it shut behind me.

For a week I’ve been constricted to a bed. For a week I wasn’t allowed to leave the room for some reason. I guess it was for my own good, but still. Damn was it boring without technology to occupy my infinitely free time.

So it was that Paul would come every time he could – though I didn’t know what else he was doing that required him to be away so often, – and teach me some new words and grammar. The progress I’ve made in the week was absolutely... non-existing. With pain occupying my every waking second, it was really hard to stay focused and not doze off from constant fatigue. The lower back rib, fractured I guess, was making my life difficult. Not to mention that my feet and legs still hurt from walking for a few days straight. But I did learn something: hiking is not fun.

The food was… actually kinda surprising. The first food they served me – that was also my first lunch – was a large plate with a lot of things on it. Everything possible from grass to meat. Paul probably forgot to tell them what a human eats. So, I picked up some meat, fruit, vegetables, etc. The following days I’d only get what I’d picked up at my first lunch.

Then there were the regular doctor visits. About a thousand different doctors would often check up on me, studying my body, studying my reactions to certain stuff, studying everything. I let them. Though I didn’t like feeling like a lab rat, it was the least I could do to help them help me get better through higher knowledge of my physiology. Plus, it was better than being strapped to some table where they would be free to experiment on an entirely new species they’ve never seen before. Yeah, put like that, I was lucky once again.

Paul would always be present throughout these tests, making sure the doctors didn’t go too far. Not like they ever did, but the notion was still much appreciated. That is, he was at almost every test. Whenever they wanted me to get undressed, Paul promptly left the room. Even now he left, leaving me alone with one of those crazy-ass female pony doctors who always seemed to wear a smile. Talk about uncanny valley.

How do you even call pony males and females? Stallions and mares? But were someone to tell me to picture a stallion or a mare, I’d picture a horse, not a pony. Are there, like, pony equivalents? Hmm. No matter, it’s not like these creatures were Earth-like. Their goddamn saucers peering at me like two abysses that threatened to swallow me up was even more frightening than seeing a beak curl upward in that creepy gryphon smile. Gah!

Anyway, I figured there really wasn’t much harm in getting undressed. There seemed to be some kind of cultural thing for not wearing clothes being the norm, while wearing them was considered a profession or rich thing from what I could gather. The doctors and nurses wore lab coats, yes, but it didn’t really conceal anything. They still had their asses stuck up high into the air for everyone to see no matter if you wanted to or not.

Well, it’s not like I could really stop them or, in this case, her. She was a unicorn, like a lot of the other pony doctors. If they wanted to, they could just rip the clothes off me with their magic, manipulate me in any way they wanted, and I’d be absolutely powerless to do anything. It was better to play it safe. To do as they said.

Thirty minutes later, the pony left my room – still smiling like a plastic barbie doll – and one blushing gryphon came back in.

“What?” I asked innocently, but I knew very well how it must’ve looked. Though, fortunately, nothing inappropriate did happen except for still feeling slightly uncomfortable being naked. Though they had basically unlimited power over me, they still treated me nicely and with respect.

“Inc,” he replied before sitting his feathery background into a comfy chair he had someone bring in. We were going through some words again, but this time he had the luxury of having some books with a lot of pictures. They looked like they were made for a three year old, which is exactly how I felt in this new, unknown world. Like a small kid, but without all the benefits of careless joyful adventures that come with the territory.

By the end of the week, and with the help of all those doctors, the pain had practically faded into nothingness now, but still they kept me locked in there for another week. To run more tests on such a unique specimen – truly an opportunity that couldn’t be passed up – or if they truly cared for my well being, I don’t know. Having to guess, the latter was more likely. All those smiles they gave me, showing real concern. How did I deserve all of that?

The answer came the day before I left.

There was a silent knock on my door, almost wouldn’t have noticed it hadn’t I been awake for quite some time due to my mind being a jumbled mess of emotions and new words that Paul had taught me.

“Come in,” I yelled, not looking toward the door, presuming it was another doctor. But, when the telltale questions I couldn’t answer didn’t come, I looked away from the most interesting ceiling and toward the newcomer.

Pardon me, newcomers.

In came a familiar gryphon and a child, one kinda recognized by my hazy numb mind too. It was the ill gryphon and the small cub near him had to be his child. The gryphon looked much better now, probably thanks to getting help from an actual doctor rather than the presumed changeling one.

The cub – unmistakably male now that my eyes recognized a certain pattern for females and for males – was also pretty happy, beaming up with a huge grin. It was cute and kinda wrong with the smile and all of that. But I got mostly used to it a while ago, so it was more cute than creepy. That thought led to a smile of my own.

The gryphon started talking. He stuttered somewhat, and made gestures that obviously conveyed nervousness or shyness—rubbing his chest, the back of his head, looking anywhere but at me, and so on. Then he finished, looking at me from the corner of his left eye, obviously waiting for me to do something.

Not wanting to spoil the moment, I smiled once again and nodded gratefully.

The gryphon beamed at me with a warmly. That, coupled with his son happily leaning against him, made my heart all fuzzy. That image alone was enough to calm the storm in my mind. And all was alright once again.

After those two, mostly uneventful, weeks, I was released. Whatever they did at the hospital seemed to help, because I felt like a new person. The pain and exhaustion were completely gone.

They gave me back my clothes. However, I could see the ponies had some repulsion towards them and were glad when they didn’t have to handle it in any way anymore. The gryphons were cool with it, though. The clothes seemed to have been washed prior to receiving them. It was nice to have them back after wearing some sort of hospital gown they whipped out from somewhere, and which was obviously tailored in haste.

Getting on my boots and wool socks that were smelling quite nice now too, Paul led me down a hospital hallway leading straight out through a pair of glass doors. Behind me the hallway led to a set of metal double-doors with a pair of small circular glass windows in each. The surgery room, probably. Unless there was another branch of the hospital, there appeared to only be ten rooms, two of which had silver nameplates on them. Then there was a small reception and waiting room, after which lay the exit. If the hospital was so small, where did all the doctors come from?

But no wonder it was so small. Bidding the nurse attending to the reception a goodbye, we stepped outside. I was immediately greeted with a familiar sight—the lumberjacking village. Looking behind me, I discovered why such a modern hospital didn’t stand out like a fist in the eye in such a small, backwards village. It was meticulously paneled with wood and thatch to not make it stand out. Why anyone would do that was beyond me.

Again I faced the square, where gryphons bustled about, selling and buying things. There seemed to be some sort of sale going on. Overall, there had to be the entire village cramped there.

There was a yell to my right. Almost instantly, half the gryphons looked toward me. The others, wondering what was going on, followed their brethrens’ gazes. Thus it was that I had the attention of the entire village. More yells started to sound throughout the crowd, and soon I was smothered by a few brave souls that seemed to be really excited upon seeing me for some reason.

“What’s going on?!” I tried to yell at Paul who meanwhile stepped a little sideways to give my… “followers” more space. But alas, my meek yell was drowned out in the sea of excited chatter. Looking at Paul, the smug bastard smiled at me.

Soon I was surrounded, trapped, encircled by a lot of carnivorous predators. However, about half of them were smaller than the regular gryphons, those standing a little behind, smiling at the antics of the younger ones. The other half were all grown up and stuff, looking really grateful for some reason.

The crowd parted a little as the familiar dark grey gryphon with white-streaked chest stepped forward. Unlike last time, though, his chestnut eyes no longer promised doom upon my soul. Rather, he was smiling—something I found uncharacteristic of him in our passing acquaintance. In his right claw he held a large pouch.

The crowd fell silent as he entered the ring, strolling forward until he was in front of me. I looked down at him, and he looked up at me. A sort of strange feeling befell me, as if we were companions from long ago, but until now didn’t remember each other.

“Thank you,” he said warmly before handing me the pouch, I accepted it uncertainly. It was pretty heavy, and a lot of things jingled in it. Before he could withdraw his claw, I clasped my hand around it, and we shook our respective appendages in a sort of “you’re welcome.”

The crowd erupted in cheering, my heart aflutter. Though I’d probably never know for certain, somehow I felt that it was because of what I’d done in the mines. Logically speaking, it was the only reason I could think of. Plus, the pouch had a lot of precious-looking gems in it, so there was that for proof.

After the heartfelt exchange between me and their leader, the crowd dispersed, though I could still feel their eyes on me. Paul toured me throughout the small village. He’d even, with some reluctance from me, lift me up into the air to let me see the entirety of it.

The beauty of it all, the harmony in which the gryphons lived with their surroundings; it was… liberating.

That night we were invited to stay at the personal house of the leader, which was also the city hall. It had a huge room in its forefront which looked to be designed to hold a large number of people. There were two rows of tables and chairs – though they looked more like pillows than traditional human chairs – dominated the entire room. And it was filled to the brim with gryphons and some ponies. A feast was taking place, and Paul and I were invited. My guess was it was held in celebration of all that’d happened—the liberation of the mines, the freeing of slaves, the sacrifice of liberators.

The night quickly became a blur induced by heavy amounts of rough ale that quickly got into my mind. Indeed, the nonsensical conversations I was having with other gryphons who started to look the same. Paul trying to flaunt in front of others with his impromptu dancing number. All of which was followed by more gryphons throwing away their social barriers, joining in on the fun in their own special, drunken ways.

For a single night, I was truly happy again, all my problems simply leaving me. For a moment, I forgot about my journey, my brother, and my justified crimes.

Yes, all was indeed alright once again, if only for a single moment.

Chapter 13: Does the walker choose the path?

Chapter 12: Latimer's mercy

As it was, we were back on the road. Paul had filled our bags (he got himself his own supplies now, thankfully), with all manner of necessary things to survive in the great wide outdoors, prior to my full recovery. Or he was a wizard and whipped out two full bags of supplies out of nowhere. Whichever was right, we were able to hit the road almost immediately after clearing our hangover with some nice goodbye lunch with the equally hungover leader slash mayor.

Some villagers not busy with their work and kids gathered at the edge of the village, all bidding us goodbye. Soon, the road once again crunched under my feet. Once we were out of town, however, I figured I should take great care to look over the supplies Paul had acquired, much to his dismay, seeing I didn’t quite trust him with the proper “backpack” management. Couldn’t blame me. He did, after all, forget to pack anything when we began this journey.

There were general food items and a canteen full of water. Then, beneath, were some blankets and more clothes.

Wait, is that… a map. I quickly pulled it out and unfolded it. I hadn’t been allowed to bring any maps with me, the teacher explicitly implying that he had borrowed them to me, not given. No matter, I was able to memorize the area and where I had to go before giving them back, so I wasn’t really worried. But as I unfolded my map, it felt reassuring to see that we were on the right track.

Folding it back into the pack, I rummaged around some more. There was the picture of a human child, a new tinderbox to replace my lost flint and steel, blankets, spare clothes, some more food—mostly dried or smoked meat. But then…

I picked up a carving knife, its blade hidden in a leather sheath. The image of a deer, bleeding on the ground with terrified eyes blackened my vision for a split of a second, followed closely by a dead dog with a mace stuck in his head.

“Damn,” I muttered and shook my head a little to clear it. Slowly putting the knife back between a folded blanket, my hands rummaged further into the rucksack. At the very bottom was the bag filled with gems, then nothing more.

At the sides of the backpack was a rope on one side, a waterskin filled to the brim with water and a crystal lantern on the other side. For a moment I contemplated putting the lantern inside the backpack, but ultimately decided against it. The whole structure of it was firm solid—the real deal. The lantern looked like it wouldn’t break even if I fell on it. Plus, this way it was easier to reach should I need it. All I had to do was remove the thick, black cloth covering it to get instant light.

However, there was a strap on the side above the rope that was missing something. A weapon.

Damn, I forgot to buy a new weapon while in the village. It was a lumberjacking village. They were bound to have a blacksmith to keep axes sharp and in supply. Having just a small – albeit still deadly – knife as the only weapon was unacceptable after my experiences.

Frustrated, I threw the rucksack over my back and turned to walk back toward the village. Paul was a little confused.

“A weapon,” I said while shaking my hand as if stabbing someone, after which I pointed at the empty space at the side of my rucksack.

“Aah,” he sighed in recognition and joined me at my side.

As we walked, I watched Paul’s composure. He swaggered about in his usual relaxed pose, a childlike excitement in his steps. Absolutely nothing had changed about him. Was he really so used to violence that the mines didn’t leave any visible effects on him.

Or better yet, the probability that he was never there was more likely. I mean, even predators would cringe at the killing, and I’ve only got a glimpse of it. The whole place must’ve been a slaughterhouse now. That would leave a mark on you, predator or not.

Indeed, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Had he known what I’d done, he would never look at me the same way again. And he would definitely not celebrate my part in all of… that.

Or maybe gryphons really were such predators that things like that didn’t faze them.

Upon returning to the village, the villagers expressed a little surprise to see us again, but didn’t really comment. With a few questions from Paul, we soon came to the smithy where I bought a small hand-axe that was just a tad bigger than my previous one (sadly, he had no maces). Well, I didn’t exactly buy it, because the blacksmith practically forced the axe on me before ushering us out. Not looking the gift horse in the mouth, I just used some spare cloth to wrap it around the axe’s blade before slipping it into the rucksack’s strap.

An hour of precious daylight wasted (it was already afternoon by this point), but a necessary sacrifice for what could save my, and to an extension, Paul’s life.

Meanwhile, Paul snickered as he watched me put the axe in its place. Upon giving him a curious look, he magically pulled a big-ass axe with a short handle from underneath the rucksack he had strapped to his back, the axe’s blade covered in thick cloth too. The damn thing looked like a portable version of an executioner’s axe.

The snicker turned into a full chuckle as he watched my dumb expression. Just shaking my head at his silliness, I pulled out the map from within the backpack’s depths before throwing said bag over my back.

We again left the village, slowly making our way north-northeast, where our goal lay. A huge blotch that seemed to dominate the upper right middle of the map. The city where the picture was supposedly bought.

Now we found ourselves at the edge of the map, somewhere far southwest. The forest was only partially drawn, barely showing Paul’s home. The map, however, seemed to be centered around what I presumed to be the capitol – the city which we were trying to reach, where the pony merchant back at Paul's village got the picture of a human child. There were arrows at the edges of the map, indicating something more was there. Nevermind that, just from the small distance we crossed from the mountain village to this one, and by how long it took us to get here, I presumed we had a long, long way to go. Too long for my tastes. I could only guess, though. The map scale was in a whole different measuring system, thus I had no way of estimating anything correctly.

At least now, according to the map, we would have a large area of plains to cross before coming to a forest that lay beneath a huge mountain range that spanned like a scar from southeast, before splitting in two, one going north to the capital city and beyond, curving to northwest, and another range going west and then a bit north before disappearing into nothingness just before what I assumed was a see that dominated the upper left corner of the map. These two mountain ranges formed a large semi-circle valley that seemed to be filled with many blotches of trees, smaller hills, then a lot of cities, towns, and villages. No wonder, the mountain ranges would be a great natural protection against large invading armies.

Basically, we had two options. Go back a little northeast, then continue north until we hit the mountains, after which we would follow along them until they disappeared, then just go east to the capital city. There were some towns and villages along the sierra that we could visit to resupply. Plus, the path was pretty straightforward.

But it would also take us, like, two months, assuming we would begin to walk at the break of dawn and go to sleep when our respective walking appendages were falling off.

The second option was to go through the mountains. The problem’s that the sierra was thick. Not as thick as the forest we left behind, but thick nonetheless. Also, if the dark tops of the mountains drawn onto the map were any indication, the mountains weren’t exactly your everyday hills.

Just going straight through the forest took us about four days of walking while taking quite the number of breaks. However, I had to assume that going through these mountains wouldn’t be so straightforward. Furthermore, there would probably be many twists, turns, etc.

Perhaps it could take us a week or two to pass through. Still that was two weeks compared to two months, and as such was a no-brainer decision.

Now to just get there...

The forest was nice. There was always something to look at, something to learn.

But now? Now we had open fields—nothing but the dirt ground with the endless grass all around us for company. Of course, Paul and I had each other, but...

We kept giving each other looks – the ones people do when they try to engage in a conversation but it’s just too awkward – jerking our heads all the time, making it look as if we had a stroke or something.

“Ok, fuck this,” I blurted out after the frustration and awkwardness reached a whole new boiling point, making me throw my arms to the heavens above in plea of salvation from this silent hell. An hour was as much as I could do. No more.

Paul jerked back in sudden surprise, wings flaring, almost knocking me down with them. But he calmed down pretty soon, and looked understandingly at my outburst. The silence had to get on his nerves, too.

The problem is, there wasn’t much to be said. Not in the current state of things. I’ve never been too good with languages, and though Balderdash was somehow easy to learn, there was still much I didn’t know. Mainly, vocabulary. Paul and me made some progress in that regard while in the hospital, but it wasn’t enough to hold a meaningful conversation.

“Nothing,” I said at last, walking the beaten path once again, Paul trailing beside me. It was something Paul and me would have to trudge through before my Balderdash was at least on the level of a three years old.

Dammit.

It was getting dark already. The fact that we started in the early afternoon due to unforeseen complications meant we didn’t really get as far as I’d wanted to.

We did manage to hit an important landmark, though.

A series of smaller hills dotted with large holes everywhere, mainly at their bases, opened up in a small valley before us, the occasional somewhat rocky hill or two covered with large patches of deciduous trees, their strange silvery leaves bristling in the wind like thousands of blades.

Not really pausing at the strange sight, but definitely having piqued my curiosity, we moved toward one of the larger patches of trees by a particularly higher hill, making our way carefully around the many deep holes. There we would hopefully find shelter under the thick crowns of the silvery giants.

Oh, great, I thought as something wet landed on my nose. First I looked up, hoping to see no silhouette of a bird against the clouded sky when another raindrop hit me squarely in the right eye.

Yelping a little, I started rubbing it, only to have my face assaulted by two more in quick succession.

“There!” I pointed forward before taking off into a light jog, the darker beige gryphon catching up with me and soon getting ahead of me.

I smiled, thinking, Oh no you don’t, while trying to race him to the small forest. But I guess being a quadruped had its merits, because he was there way sooner than me. When I finally did get there, I was a panting mess. It wasn’t really the run that wind me up as much as having to avoid falling into the strange holes.

Paul just flashed me one of his signature smirks.

“Cheeky bastard,” I grumbled while leaning forward against a tree, trying to get some needed oxygen into my body.

When I finally felt like not dying, I looked at the sparse forest and the slightly sloped hill, this one not as rocky as the other ones, making it possible for more of the silver-leaved trees to grow there. A small creek appeared to round the hill, filling many of the holes, making strange-looking but incredibly clean ponds at the base of the hill and in the crevice between the hill itself and another hill it bordered. Paul immediately went to one such pond, drinking deeply of it. Me, I didn’t want to risk anything, so I rather unscrewed the lid of my waterskin and gave myself a healthy swig.

The raindrops started hitting the silvery giants in a cascade of silent drums, while a slight breeze picked up, playing the leaves like an orchestra. It was… enchanting. Peaceful.

Paul came up to me, sighing in content, his beak glistening with a smile. I smiled back, before nodding my head forward. Though the trees were big and could provide shelter, it still wouldn’t be enough to keep us from getting drenched in the upcoming rain that looked like it would last for a while if the dark clouds forming above us were any indication.

As we began to round the hill, I took more notice of the holes. For some reason, I found them strange, unnatural really. Like they weren’t supposed to be there. An uneasy feeling settled over me, and one glance at Paul confirmed he thought the same of this place. But… why?

The hill started to get more rocky and steep, the holes getting bigger and the trees becoming scarcer—the very opposite of what we were searching for. But then we found it.

In a particularly large hole that seemed to have cut to the base of the now steep hill, an entrance to a cave seemed to have formed in the stone wall. It was obscured by some foliage, but still visible enough that we didn’t miss it. I couldn’t really see inside though, the fading light of day unable to pierce its depths. That was good, it meant it would most likely protect us from rain.

Smiling at our luck, I reached behind and unholstered my axe, untying the cloth protecting its blade. Paul paused a little at it, before nodding to himself and grabbing his own axe. If the cave was inviting to us, why wouldn’t it be inviting to animals?

Paul shot up, gliding silently through the drizzle. I sneaked on with my axe ready, slowly coming up to the cave mouth. Peering inside as Paul drifted above me, prepared to deal with anything should it attack me, I noticed two things. The cave wasn’t really that deep, and there were signs of habitation. Flat rocks pressed together, covered with silvery leaves. A few rocks forming a circle around white ash; there was something living here, and it was intelligent. But whatever it was, it wasn’t there right now.

I beckoned to Paul, who swooped down into the cave, almost colliding with a wall. Stifling a laugh, I quickly put down my backpack and axe, then ran to some trees. Moving quickly, soon I brought an armload of twigs back to the cave. Paul followed my example and returned with an armload of his own, but at the cost of getting himself drenched as the rain picked up.

The poor gryphon looked like a wet puppy before going sideways from me, where he shook out as much water as he could while sneezing. I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics and confused look.

As my laughter died down, I plopped myself near the circle of stone with my axe and a few twigs. Propping a thick twig against one of the stones, slowly and carefully I started peeling thin strips of wood with my axe, placing them into the stone circle. As I did so, Paul sat down on the ground near me, watching the rain with strange calmness and a content smile. I smiled too and continued peeling apart few of the twigs until there was a mound of thin strips. Using my new tinderbox, it didn’t take long before there was a small fire going on, to which the wet gryphon huddled closer. We sat around the fire for a few minutes like that, watching the rain as the world slowly faded into blackness.

And then he came.

If I’d thought Paul looked like a drenched puppy, then here stood the real deal. Fur and dirty clothes clinging to him, he looked malnourished and beaten. With a miserable look on his face, he stood in the cave mouth, far enough from us that we couldn’t reach him should we chase him, but close enough that the rain didn’t patter him.

Didn’t take me even a second to recognize him. His small frame, his pleading eyes. And I knew that he recognized me, his face changing like the wind and rain outside: shock, hurt, anger. All played in a cacophony of flashes on his dog face.

The alpha’s son peered back at me like a nightmare come true. Everything froze for a few terrible heartbeats.

“Hey,” Paul said softly, followed by a few words I didn’t recognize. But there was no need, for I recognized what he was saying. He spoke softly, unthreateningly—the tone you used to speak to a frightened child you didn’t know anything about yet tried to comfort still.

The gryphon didn't recognize the enemy.

Paul hadn’t been there, in the blue caverns. He really hadn’t. For some reason, it felt like a heavy burden fell from my shoulders.

The gryphon’s voice brought the small diamond dog out of his stupor, now genuinely confused. But I looked no further, instead turning back to the fire, feeding it another thick twig. I couldn’t bear to look at the small, hurt child – the consequence of my actions – any longer. And suddenly, just like that, my own resolve in what I’d done slowly cracked.

Paul talked, his voice like a silk on my ears, like a song on my soul. It spoke of better tomorrows, of hurt fading away. The same voice I used when my small brother was hurt and I tried all I could to make it better.

I forced my eyes shut, lest they give up more than I was willing to show right now. I had to be strong.

My ears picked up the telltale signs of claws scraping against the stone ground, but what was surprising was they seemed to come closer rather than fade away into the distance.

Indeed, as I looked with my very own eyes, the cub slowly walked toward Paul. He looked more miserable now. The gryphon even pulled out some food from his own pack, almost startling the dog away. But the allure of food seemed irresistible, so the cub walked forward.

Without warning, when he was close, he slashed his claws at me. I barely managed to pull back from having my face slashed into ribbons.

“Motherfucker!” I yelled in surprise, picking up the nearest object – my axe – while readying myself to to fight for my life. However, there was no need for that because Paul, almost like someone bipolar, quickly changed from a fatherly figure to killer warmachine of doom in the split of a second. He bore down upon the dog with his whole body, tackling him to the ground in an immobilizing grip.

My body started shaking with sudden fright, adrenaline bringing sharpness to my senses, making me jumpy. But I let myself release the axe, scraping backwards along the ground before any rash decisions could be made.

The whelp never stood a chance. He shook a few times, trying to free his arms, trying to scratch and bite Paul. However, soon he realized he stood no chance and stopped fighting, face resting against the cold ground.

Without having the gryphon prompt me, I dashed to my backpack, then Paul’s, getting two sturdy ropes and handing them the Paul.

Soon enough, there was a small dog, arms and legs tied up hard enough that he couldn’t move – but not enough to interrupt the flow of blood into his limbs – sitting against a wall near the fireplace.

“Well, now what,” I voiced my concerns, having absolutely no idea what to do with him. My dear friend seemed to have an idea already, though, and that was to still try to befriend the vicious child. Poor Paul almost got his claws bit off as the small dog snapped at him while he tried to feed him. That seemed enough even for the kind gryphon, hissing something in the clickity language of his before taking a huge bite off the bread while glaring at the dog. The whelp glared back, even more so now, which seemed to satisfy Paul because he soon moved closer to the fire where I sat eating my own piece of bread.

There was another thing. We couldn’t afford to sleep while he was around. While the ropes were sturdy, it wouldn’t do much against the diamond dog’s teeth and claws should he decide to free himself while we slept. We would need to take turns guarding him.

At the thought I let out a frustrated moan, before reaching to another twig to feed the fire. Paul looked at me, questioning my use grumbling.

“Night, me; morning, you,” I said, while pointing at the diamond dog. He just cocked his head, not really understanding.

“Whatever.” I waved off before getting up. The rain wasn’t strong now, barely a drizzle. “We need more wood.” I pointed at the almost non-existent pile of twigs. “Need wood,” I repeated in Balderdash.

Paul looked at the dwindling pile, then outside. He nodded and got up, walking away from the fire’s warmth. He shook a little, sighing before taking flight. While he was away, I kept guard on at the kid from the corner of my eye, but never directly looked at him.

Soon he came back, dropping off his cargo before flying back into the night. It was almost pitch black out there now, the rain and clouds blocking off the moon and stars.

After several runs, there was enough wood to last us most of the night. Paul, tired and drenched, plopped himself near the fireplace, drying himself with one of the blankets. I fed the fire some more twigs to make the fire bigger for Paul, lest he catch a cold. He smiled gratefully before putting the wet blanket near a distance away from the fire, then huddling himself in another one he pulled out of his rucksack. Soon he slid to the ground sleepily.

“G’night,” he murmured, an obvious effort to even speak.

I smiled, saying, “Goodnight, Paul.”

Nevermind we never did establish nightwatch.

After what felt like forever of staring into the mesmerising flames, I grabbed my waterskin, drinking deeply of it. Then, on some instinct, I reached out with my hand holding the waterskin toward the alpha’s son. He just kept glaring at me, his eyes unsettling me for some reason.

“Kid, you look like you sparred with death itself. You need this.” With those words I reached out with the waterskin even further, almost close enough for him to just reach it with his head and drink. Alas, my goodness was repaid only with him having snap at me, but I was ready for that. Anger welled inside me.

“Your loss,” I spat, taking a swig again out of spite. That only made him glare harder. If looks could kill and all that jazz.

What the hell are we going to do with you.

Slowly but surely, silence prevailed throughout the cave. Even the wind and rain outside seemed a distant, forgotten howl. It did, however, get cold rather quickly after sunset. Even the fire failed to push the entirety of chillness of the night away. So, shuffling over to my backpack, I pulled out one of the blankets—the one I knew didn’t have a knife folded inside itself.

A small pouch fell as the blanket unfurled.

“Huh?”

I gingerly picked it up, hefting it. The thing was light, but there was definitely something rustling inside. I untied the string holding it closed, immediately looking inside.

A pleasant aroma wafted forth to my nose as I realized what was inside. The whole pouch was packed with small thick leaves I immediately recognized as the local alternative to a toothpaste.

How did I miss this? A smile cracked on my lips as I breathed deeply of the menthol-like fragrance. Immediately, I picked two of them and shoved them in my mouth almost hungrily, chewing on them with great relief. I don’t know what it was about them, but they were such a pleasure to chew. You couldn’t swallow them of course – something I learned the hard way – so it was imperative to not get carried away in their amazing taste.

Few minutes of loud chewing, which seemed to irritate the small dog, and I spat out the paste the leaves had become into the fire. The glob sizzled a little before giving out small drafts of aromatic smoke that soon filled the small cave with a pleasant aroma. Afterwards, I rinsed my teeth with another gulp of water, which I spat aside. Though the water was something I’d have to cherish, I still had a full canteen in my backpack. Plus, one mouthful of water wasn’t worth the trouble of swallowing some of the paste.

The kid whined, though I think it was involuntarily. I turned to him, his composure a little softer now than before, but as soon as I met his eyes, they blazed with unadulterated hatred once again.

Reading faces is never easy, even if you’re looking at a human, not to mention sapient anthropomorphic creatures. It’s not really that simple as books, movies, and video games make it out to be. There’s always subtlety in everyone’s face with the possibility of faking your emotions. Only the true masters that had lifelong experiences could discern the subtle notion’s on one’s face—the things that betrayed on a subconscious level what he or she really thought.

But there are also the times when you just know. When there’s no doubt in your mind of the true intents behind one’s mask, behind the eyes. A certain rawness; unmistakable, striking truth.

This was one of those moments, I realized as I looked into this barely teen’s eyes. It was hate unlike anything I had seen outside of stories.

And that’s when I knew that he would brave storms and scorching sun, deserts and forests, seas and continents; yes, he would brave it all to get to me, to have the chance to end my life. There was no doubt in my and his mind about that. No talking could undo what I’d planted inside his heart.

He watched me kill his father, he watched as the gryphons slaughtered his clan—probably his entire family. And he blamed me for all of it.

No kindness from Paul or me would convince him otherwise. He wasn’t a child anymore. He really wasn’t anything anymore but a vessel to enact some grand revenge on the ones he considered monsters, damned be the reality that he was also one.

Do you know those thoughts that creep into your mind without any indication; without any reason? The thoughts that sometimes plague you as they hammer on your consciousness? The ones that make you stop in real life, perhaps even jerk your head in disgust?

Kill him, was one such thought, coming like lightning from a clear sky. Spare yourself the trouble; spare him his abomination of a life.

“No,” I moaned out at the unwelcome intrusion of my mind, shaking my head slowly as if to get rid of something latched onto my head. But it was there, unyielding. It wouldn’t leave until I considered it.

“No more killing!” I hissed through clenched teeth.

The dog smiled viciously as he saw my distress.

A thousand reasons, both logical and raving mad, flashed through my mind in an instant. I’d read dozens of stories, seen dozens of movies; I knew how this would end up. But that wasn’t really the reason I even considered such an inhuman deed. No, I’d even seen such things with my own eyes during my life. I was going to save myself a load of trouble which would probably still result in this diamond dog’s death.

It wasn’t just about me, though. A life of revenge changed one’s mind, twisting it into a neverending spiral of lunacy. Such people caused a lot of suffering, not only to the one they hunted in the name of perverted justice, but also to all that stood in their way, that ever so lightly brushed against their savage life. Life. Not really much of a life to speak of.

Somehow, my body listened to the thoughts. Without even knowing it at first, my right hand gripped the handle of the axe lying near me.

But all the reasons weren’t enough to do what I had condemned the diamond dogs for in the first place:

I just shook my head. “No. Never would I lay a hand on a child, you miserable cunt. Never.”

Slowly, my hand came free of the axe, letting it slowly slide back to the ground.

For a long while, there was nary a silence, heavy and burdensome. Not even the cracking of the fire, the howling of winds, the drumming of rain could dispel it.

He whined again, silently; almost too silently for me to hear. I heard it nonetheless. Upon a closer look, he was shivering.

Somehow, just this small thing pushed away my thoughts away, letting me concentrate on the now instead of what will be. I picked up the blanket I’d pulled out of my backpack, then slowly carried it over to the dog who rested with his back against the wall a small way from the fireplace.

The alpha’s son growled, even such a thing probably costing him all his remaining strength because he visibly sagged once he saw I wouldn’t go away. He didn’t snap at me as I tucked him in the blanket while still keeping my distance from his snout. I didn’t cover his feet where he was bound with ropes, nor a small part of his chest where his paws were tightened with a rope against it, preventing him from scratching at his bindings.

He kept growling until I moved away once again. With heaviness of unwanted burdens, my feet carried me to my backpack once again. Pulling the remaining blanket out while putting the knife folded inside back into the bag, my drowsy mind had me sit at my place once again, but this time I draped myself with the blanket.

Then I looked out of the small cave, out into the winds and rain. I watched the invisible patterns that played across the land, listened to the shifting melody of gusts. I watched as the rain stopped and the light of moon showered the rocky hills and the strange trees in its silvery light.

I watched until I could bear to watch no more. Waking Paul up from his deep sleep, him glaring at me through an annoying look, I promptly passed out without really explaining anything. My body couldn’t bring itself to utter a word.

I just… needed… to rest…

Chapter 14: Or does the path choose the walker?

Chapter 13: Does the walker choose the path?

The dawn was crimson and ruled by horrors.

I found myself standing in a field, armies marching, destroying all that stood in their path. Holding my ground, my eyes beheld as they murdered what I could only call deer and stags, like the one Jake had killed. Children, adults, elderly; none were spared.

In the caves far beneath the earth, they remained trapped for a long time, suffering in the dark. They huddled as hope died away.

And, in the middle of it all, was a tangible darkness gusting forth from the earth’s depths like smoke out of a billowing volcano, forming into a pool of mist unseen.

It was power, raw and primeval. It pulled me ever closer, beckoning. I reached toward it, trying to touch it, the dark power. I wanted it. No, I needed it… to save my brother and myself.

So, I did.

An electrifying feeling surged through me in a wave, coursing through my veins. It was the feeling of impossibility becoming real. My heart pounded with strength that could shake the world. My mind clearer than ever conjured answers to all questions.

Do you want this? The pool whispered.

“I want it all,” I answered before it even finished asking.

And so it was.

“Wake up.” Someone nudged me. It brought coldness which caressed me back into the waking world. The singing and chirping of birds felt like an alarm clock pounding against my tired mind.

“Noooo,” I moaned and rolled over trying to get away from the intrusive smells and light. Dammit, I was beginning to really hate this. Walk all day, sleep, walk all day, sleep, like a goddamned vicious cycle that slowly tore me down into a quivering mess of aching muscles and fatigue. But, for my little brother, it would all be worth it.

Like the days before the blue mines – hell, before this world – I forced myself to get up.

There was something sizzling on the rocks circling the fire that still burned strong. Paul sat near the fireplace, looking at me. He seemed as if he had been up for a while now. Surveying the small cave showed me the lack of diamond dogs. I honestly didn’t know how to feel about that.

Glad to still be alive, I guess . That was true since my body still retained its status quo ante bellum, so Paul had probably gotten the clue about nightwatch and whatnot. But where the dog was now would hopefully remain forever a mystery.

“Good morning, Paul,” I smiled despite my uneasiness while stretching my sore back and bruised shoulder. Sleeping on the ground was something else I’d probably never get used to. I missed my bed so much during the past two or something months, though it wasn’t all that bad back at the village.

We ate the roasted meat Paul had gotten from who knows where. Wasn’t much without salt and spices, but still better than nothing. At least we spared some of our supplies, though as I’d said, Paul’s food supplies were just a snack for his frame. Blasted gryphons and their bottomless bellies.

Neither of us bothered to break up the campfire. It wouldn’t be able to do much harm in the cave’s confines. We only took what was ours, perhaps sensing that the dog would most likely return upon our leave. At least that’s what I hoped he would do. Though in my heart I knew he would follow us.

Everything packed, we were on our way once again. We rounded the hill until our respective walking appendages hit the road again. Soon the forest was behind us, the strange silvery trees waving us their goodbye. For a short moment I stopped and observed the malapropos, jagged hills.

There was power there. Now that Paul and I left the place, there seemed to be something missing, a strange feeling like I’d forgotten something important. Somehow, I knew it was there, tempting me with its untouchable presence.

“Go,” Paul called after me, now a few meters ahead of me. So, I turned, and the journey continued.

Days passed, blurred in an incomprehensible mass of light and dark that came and went, only few events happened during that time.

There wasn’t all that much to do in the broad daylight but walking and looking inconspicuous, which we didn’t really go into any details with. No longer did we bother to hide my presence. Sure, travellers we began to meet were aplenty. Though most gave us nary but second glances before moving on with their business, some glanced back, studying me perhaps. Couldn’t blame them. I’d be curious too. If anything, Paul did all of the talking again.

“Watch,” He said as we stopped beneath a lone tree on a small hill—acting like a beacon in the endless seas of grass and shrubs typical to steppi. We seemed to be leaving behind the lush green fields – sometimes cultivated with wheat or other sorts of cereals, and whenever it was corn we usually took advantage of it, getting us some more food for free.

The terrain thus slowly changed to accommodate to the slightly colder climate. Because of that, the farmlands became scarcer too. With it we lost a reliable source of food. I know, stealing is wrong, but really, most of the times the fields were too big for us to make any sort of dent in the wallets of whoever owned the fields. I also noticed that gryphons were, for some reason, really fond of corn.

This small hill with the lone tree overlooked a huge lake. The higher ground made visible a farmhouse on the other side of the lake with a small pier and an even smaller boat floating near. Otherwise the land was silent, only wind sifting through the branches and leaves above me, soothing my aching body and troubled mind, though just a little. However, even that was enough, as with every passing day, the dread in me grew like a cancer.

Paul shot up into the sky. The strange sky that seemed so different from our world, yet so similar at the same time. The clouds, for example, were closer to the ground. One, two minutes was all Paul needed to touch them and… mold them?

Wait...

He freaking touched them, taking a huge chunk from it – almost as large as he was – and sculpting it with his bare claws. At least that’s what it looked like from the ground where I was. My eyesight was pretty good overall – something I’d inherited from my father and which didn’t diminish much even with all the time I’d spent reading books – but even so it was difficult to really see what was going on. What I’d seen was soon confirmed as he slowly drifted down to me, lying on the cloud as if it were a water lounger, steering his craft with wings to prevent it from flowing away on wisps of wind.

“What the fuck,” I mouthed to myself, looking at the impossibility before me. Then memories from the first month or so in this world reminded me of something. I’d seen this before, in the village, but I never paid it much mind thinking it was just my imagination. Plus I’d had a lot of other stuff to worry about.

Reaching out to the cloud, my hand and arm passed through it like it was nothing but condensed water and gases. Or whatever else clouds were made of. Yet, Paul was lounging on it like it was a couch made of cotton.

“This is amazing.” My mind was blown. One would think that after gryphons, magic, diamond dogs and exploding lanterns, I’d be less surprised over such things. But the truth was the opposite.

Paul took in my amazement with a playful grin. After a while, though, he announced once again, “Watch.”

He flew up, the cloud dispersing with a mighty puff of his wings, the remnants passing through me, clinging to my clothes in small droplets.

Annoyed, though excited at the prospect of more amazing things, I sat down onto the ground where grass didn’t grow, and I watched.

The laugh of youth filled the early afternoon. This, with the beautiful virgin land, the lake glistening with beams of sunlight, the constant warm breeze; it all washed away the ever-present feeling of dread I always felt completely. Once again, a heavy burden seemed to have fallen from my heart.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I looked up at Paul. He flew through the clouds, trailing wisps of mist behind himself; all whilst making daring dives and complicated stunts. Until, finally, he let himself relax completely and fell into the water.

I was still smiling as his head emerged and he started paddling back to the shore.

He again reminded me of a drenched dog, but way, way funnier. The wet feathers clung tight to his body as he wobbled up, until giving the signature shake of all animals that tried to get rid of the excess water on their fur and feathers.

What finally skipped to my side was nothing short of a fuzzy ball that just asked to be petted. The temptation was too strong not to, and Paul knew it all too well.

As my hand reached out toward him, he gave me a winning smile as he, full of pride, said more than asked, “Nice, huh?”

“Yeah.” I buried my hand so deep into his feathers I started to question whether there was anything else he was composed of. Paul seemed in heaven as I scratched his back, between his back all the way from his neck to the place between his wings. That one in particular seemed quite sensitive.

All in all, it was a good day.

Not two days after we set out from the silvery hills did we come across another village. Crouching in the high grass behind a few trees on a hill overlooking the… well, it wasn’t really a village; more a town. It was a lot larger than the lumberjacking village.

Not wanting a repeat of what had happened before, I didn't dare to approach any further. Instead, I let Paul handle our supplies. All I did then was crouch somewhere for a few hours while contemplating the meaning of everything around me—anything to take my mind off the improbable goal before me.

Though I did watch the village from time to time. I didn’t see much through the palisade surrounding the village, but there were a lot more gryphons bustling about, some even armored, moving about in squadrons of three or four along the top of the walls or on the outer town perimeter. Half of all the gryphons in the town, if I had to guess, were in the air. Something I had noticed was that the gryphons really loved their flying capabilities. On the road, we only really saw walkers if they had too heavy carts, they were resting, or they weren’t equipped by nature for flight.

Then, once Paul got back from his supply hunting, we’d set out just before it started to get dark. Normally, we’d have set camp way before then, but we both understood without needing words to not want to risk breaking camp anywhere near the town where others could find us. I had my reasons, but I didn’t really know if Paul was just going along with it or if he had his own, personal reasons.

For the next week, we came across two more towns, each larger than the one before as we neared the mountains. The terrain began to get more forest-like again, but the greenwoods and mixed forests gave way to rigid coniferous forests.

We took extra care to take a long roundabout whenever we approached the towns. We were a lot wiser now, Paul and I.

Once we were just breaking camp after walking with less pauses than normally because we couldn't find a good place to camp. The mountains on the horizon were nothing but black misty outlines by the time we found a relatively secluded place between a few trees near a small pond.

I’d had enough by then, wanting nothing more than to just slump down and sleep forever. My tiredness and sleepiness contributed to a slightly higher level of irritation, coupled with the need to weed out a small place so the annoying weeds wouldn’t catch on fire.

When the circle of stones was closed, the fire started, and the blankets spread, there was nothing more for me but to lie down to enjoy some well deserved rest. That’s of course when Paul came to me.

“Now we javotob,” he announced in a solemn tone before dropping into what I presumed was a fighting stance.

“Paul, not now,” I sighed tiredly.

“What?” He asked still in that solemn voice. He didn’t seem like he would stop doing whatever he was doing. I think he tried to look threatening, but to me he looked like the silly, cute gryphon he always had been.

Ignoring him, I sat down.

That’s when he attacked. Tackling me, I hit the blanket head on as my body was now drowned in a sea of soft feathers.

“Hmhml!”

“Yt javotob!” He yelled into my ear before jumping back, crouching into his predatory stance. He no longer looked silly or cute.

“Oh, it’s fucking on!”

And so we sparred, and we’d been doing so ever since.

The remnants of a town burned beneath the shadows of mountains.

I looked at the map again.

“Yep,” I clicked my tongue while folding the map. This was the last town before the mountain trek. Was being a crucial word here. From even this far, through the thin trails of smoke wafting up from whatever hadn’t completely burned down yet, I could see that there was actually a visible, paved path leading into the mountains. Perhaps the trek wouldn’t take as long as I’d thought.

The town, however, was still a problem. Especially with the smell of blood, smoke, and dying hope. The stench made its way to us even as we observed from afar from a hilltop that cut from the forest like a teeth, letting us see all around us. The town itself was located by the base of one of the huge mountains in a large clearing that must’d only expanded over time. It wasn’t a large town, but from the remains I could see that it was quite important and wealthy.

Then there were the gryphons, armed to the teeth, circling like vultures around a dying prey, just waiting for the last breath.

Though we were far, gryphons had amazing sight. If I could see them, so the could see me. Not wanting to attract the attention of fully armed master predators, I slowly came down the hill and into the cover of trees. Paul looked for a while longer, then followed.

“Now what?” I asked. My knowledge of the accursed language grew faster every day.

“I go, you stay.” He might’d said wait instead of stay, but the meaning remained.

“No,” I shook my head. It was too dangerous.

But Paul, as always, had other plans. “Yes,” he hissed through a smile, and took off on those soft wings of his. They made for an amazing cover from the chill of the night, even if they covered only half of my body. I shook my head to clear it from thoughts of sleep. Tired again, body aching, keeping myself going through sheer willpower and my goal. Lately it’s been coming more frequently. The chill, the shivers. Unpleasant thoughts about what may very well come. Or may not.

For the third time, I shook my head, repressing the urge to just yell at the top of my lungs.

No, there would be no thoughts of the following dawns and twilights. Not knowing what else to do, I sat down and leaned against a tree. It was rough, painful. Good for keeping me from dozing off.

Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part I.

Chapter 14: Or does the path choose the walker?

It was three days before we walked through the halls of the hospital, the destination clear in our minds. The room, its number nor location important, was small, but still fit with two beds, at the side of them a crib each. One bed and crib was occupied, the others empty.

“Hey,” mom said and laughed a little as we entered the room in surprise, a smile framing the shadows of wrinkles on her face. She wasn’t old by any means, but steadily and quite calmly, she was getting there. Some could say she was too old now to have more children. Those people don’t know my mom.

I smiled in return but didn’t dare to touch her for how uncharacteristically fragile she looked, otherwise I’d have hugged her. There’d be time for that later. Dad took his stance beside me, imposing as always, though that was a given with how tall he was. He was scary looking, not the most pretty of people around, and definitely not the most friendly. His heart was in all the wrong places. Life broke him, and what was left were unfitting pieces glued back together by my mother. But in the end it worked, and I couldn’t ask for a better dad.

He smiled too, but otherwise didn’t do much. He’d been here earlier to check up on her and to see if she was up for some visitation. Me? I was way out there. This was huge for me in so many ways my young mind couldn’t even comprehend.

Life was good. My parents were mostly awesome, though sometimes they weren’t there for me with all the work they had, but I know they tried. And I know they did it for me, so that I could have what they didn’t have when they were my age. I had friends, some since the early years of my life. School was okay, I guess, no real problems there as of yet. Simply said, I had all I could possibly ask for. Except for one thing that all my friends shared, but that I could never have. At least not until now, that is.

There in the crib beside my bed lay silently, motionlessly, a curious visitor that would be staying with me and my family for a while, I knew. Long have I waited for this moment. To see and have what others only talked about in awe or anger. The complicated, yet simple bond of siblinghood.

There lay my brother, barely three days old. Eyes shut tight together, sleeping mind taking its form.

It was too late, that much was a given. By the time he’d be barely six, I’d already be an adult. The one buddy to always be there would be playing with toys while I was already going to be moving out. Our differences would be great.

But hell, there’s a world out there that would try to get him. Pain and anguish, as only children can suffer. Obstacles and others that would bar his way.

And hell, if I wouldn’t protect him. Hell if I wouldn’t be there for him.

“Sleep tight, I’ll take the watch.”

He shuddered in his dreams.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. That’s a promise.”

Something prodded me, jolting me awake. For a few seconds I stared into the blackness of night, not knowing where I was. Soon, though, the last wisps of dreams fluttered away in the cold breeze of a moonlit night.

“Awake? Good,” said a familiar voice from somewhere to my right. There under the tree’s shade stood a silhouette of a gryphon.

“Paul?” I whispered back, the panic still gripping me somewhat.

“Yes,” he replied somewhat jovially before letting his voice turn serious. “We have a… bad thing.”

I stood up, forcing my back away from the tree bark with which it had started to painfully merge.

“Damn,” I stretched out, getting a few annoying muscle twitches in the process.

Suddenly, a small light burst from out of nowhere, illuminating the clearing around us. Yelping a little, I averted my eyes before they could get used to the brightness. Paul had taken off a small piece of the black clothing covering my crystal lamp, letting its light spill out out.

“Map,” he said.

Confused, I didn’t pause to really think about it and did as he asked. Handing me the lamp, Paul took his backpack, dropped it on the ground, and unfolded the map on his bag, presumably so that it wouldn’t get wet from the night dew. Speaking about that, I realized my ass was suddenly somewhat wet.

He located the mountains at the point where we were about to cross before jabbing his claw into the middle of them whilst saying, “Ivotnamaíd dogs,”

Now, the word before the dogs I know I’d heard before, and the connection I had heard it with didn’t bring up pleasant memories.

I swore a string of curses, turning away and leaning against the tree’s trunk to keep myself from doing something awful. What Paul was basically trying to say was that the mountain pass was infested with diamond dogs.

“Numbers?” I asked, because I couldn’t remember how to ask how many there were. If it was just a few dogs, we could perhaps sneak around them, find a different way through, or something.

Looking expectantly at Paul, my hopes were to be dashed away with a shake of his head. “Řilíšp many,” the gryphon answered, head hanging low. Many what? Not many? No, that wouldn’t add up with the defeat with which he said it. Too many. There were too many.

No, I wouldn’t let this stop me. There had to be other passes nearby. So, I located the mountains we were in front of on the map, and slid the index finger of my right hand along the mountain range while saying, “Path, here? Here? Where?”

He just shook his head again, pointed at three points of the mountain ranges surrounding the valley where the capital lay. South, where we were, east, and north. One passage through the mountains at each side of the valley. That said, the only real alternative we had was going west-northwest around the mountains. Unless...

I made a small hop over the mountains with my finger. “Fly?”

“No,” he clicked his tongue while looking thoughtful before saying, “Umm, řilíšp lndaoch,” while clicking his beak and just shaking. Yeah, I guess flying over would be madness. The mountains were really high, and we’d freeze up there.

Come on. There had to be another way. Just, anything but going around. Dammit, was it too much to ask for? Just one small thing? One thing that would get me closer to my little brother? God, where was he?

But there was no other way, nothing sprung to Paul’s mind, nor my own as we sat there silently for about half an hour. In the end, Paul got up and made a fire. Still, I was thinking until the despair brought me into more nightmares—dreams of my brother’s carefree happiness when everything was still okay.

At least there’s a road.

So, north-west alongside the mountains we went. Rounding the still-smoking village by long distance, we found another road paved at the base of the stony giants. That’s about it, really. We met more travellers, as per usual. Though the way they looked at me changed. They appeared to be less curious. Weird.

When we passed the first village on this longer, more arduous journey, I decided something. I couldn’t always hide. Inevitably, one day I’d have to enter civilization.

That day was today.

“Relax,” I hissed to myself under my shaky breath. Nothing more was said, else the universe be tempted to fuck this up. There it was, the second village on this long way around. It was a little bigger than the previous one, but there were no walls or palisade separating it from the wilds, which would make it all the more easier to enter.

We marched forward, and by march I mean we waltzed in as if we owned the place. The gryphons, by what I figured out, were very much a battle race of sort, and as such the only thing they would respect was confidence, strength and tough words. Since I was neither strong nor could speak to any of them beside basic words, I had to have a buttload of confidence. Easier said than done.

The dice was cast, the first feather heads turned as we entered a street that seemed busy with working gryphons while not being overly crowded. There was the typical blacksmith, apron tied around his neck, flowing gently in the breeze and bellows of heat from the forge. He shot me a look, overly unconcerned with my presence, whilst still hammering into a piece of what I thought would one day make a fine sword. Some merchants had small stands and stalls along the walls of buildings. They stopped trying to get attention of others, instead watching me with keen eyes. Then there were some civilians just milling around, many watching in both confusion and wariness.

But none of them approached us; none of them really threatened us.

This is what I was so afraid of? For the first time in past hours I managed to breathe freely, the tension leaving me in relief.

Like lightning from a clear sky, suddenly lo and behold, two armed gryphons before us, one wielding a polished axe, the other a chipped sword.

“Who are you? What do you want?” One of them asked, at least I think he did. Can’t really be sure what he said, his accent was just way too different from Paul’s. I was about to reply when Paul jabbed one of his claws into my side almost painfully before speaking up overly complex sentences. Maybe I should had payed attention, but my mind was naturally elsewhere. It was on the gryphons that surrounded us, trying to look inconspicuous while listening to our small encounter, but failing hard.

Suddenly there was quiet.

“Huh?” I turned back to the gryphons, and I saw Paul giving them his axe. He looked as if he was about to sacrifice his only son. Then he looked at me, then at my axe.

“No way,” I shook my head. There was no way I’d give it up. My axe was the only chance I had against gryphons in a fight.

He just shot me a frustrated look while darting his eyes between the armed gryphons and me. The thing is, I didn’t want to stir up problem. And I had my skinning knife still in the backpack. Unless they would search our backpacks, too. Then I’d be screwed.

So, at long last I replied, “Okay.” Slowly, using both of my hands, I undid the strap holding the axe against my backpack, then I even more slowly handed it to the guards. Obviously, the gryphons didn’t trust me. It showed when one of them quickly took my weapon before hastily stepping back, most likely waiting for me to react somewhat. All I did was recede my hand and stand there like a statue.

Fortunately, the guards’ intelligence was on par with a bucket of straw. With our bags left unchecked, the armed-to-beak gryphons flew away only to most stealthily peer at us from behind a house nearby. Ignoring them, we set out to explore the town.

First though, my mind took me back to the blacksmith. Axes were good and all, but they were unwieldy in a fight. After being in a real fight, I now realized that maces weren’t too good, either. I still planned on buying one, of course, because sometimes you wanted your enemy to live. With a dozen fractured bones, sure, but still alive. Something that an unfortunate nick from a sword or axe could very well not achieve. On the other hand, a blunt weapon was still probably the better choice. As I knew myself, I’d probably slice myself up with a sword before I’d even draw it out of the scabbard.

Another thing is, why should I even bring a sword to a gunfight? With those hands of mine I could probably be better with bows and other assorted range weapons than most quadruplets around here. It would also give me advantage over them. Didn’t matter if you had the strength of ten men if an arrow was sticking from a place where your heart should be.

“Hello,” I announced my already discovered presence to the diligently hammering gryphon. He gruffed something with a thick accent. Turning to Paul, he translated: “What do you want?”

“Well,” I began while looking at the goods displayed behind him in an open stand shop thingy. There were huge swords – none of the small human-compatible variants – some axes, a few pieces of armor, but nothing else. Damn. Well, this was a small town, but still there was probably another blacksmith or a variant thereof around.

Bidding our goodbyes to the now annoyed scruffy gryphon, we entered a normal shop nearby that I’d noticed on our way into the town’s heart a mere moments ago. Above the big wooden door stood an unmistakable wooden shield with a bow, an arrow and something that looked like a bola tying the aforementioned items together in a small bundle, painted on it. There were also some glyphs, obviously of gryphon nature, but those were still beyond my meagre abilities to grasp.

Inside was homely with a fragrance of leather and oils hanging in the air. There were racks with various long- and short-range weapons. Throwing knives, axes, and even the bolas were side by side with bows twice my height and short bows that could fit inside a child’s hand.

The gryphon sitting and ardently oiling a particularly nice longbow was quite stricken with my presence. Obviously unsure of what to do he simply gaped at me as his arms kept working automatically in a way that only years of practice can teach you.

“Hello,” I announced as warmly as I could and bowed my head. The bowyer’s beak curled into a smile, and he nodded to Paul and me, but to me especially. He said something that had the word “help” in it.

Paul just tilted his head toward me, prompting the rather short chestnut gryphon to nod again. He stood up from his small wooden stool and just spread one of his arms around the shop, still smiling.

I nodded my thanks to him. The first bow I picked up was a little longer than a shortbow. It was made of fine wood, but was otherwise plain apart from a small set of engraved ornamental runes. Soon I discovered every bow in the shop had it. Most likely it was the bowyer’s mark of his goods.

Scouring the racks was all nice and dandy, but nothing really clicked with me. Until…

It didn’t really look that much different from others. It had a wooden base with the same glyphs as the other bows, but the ends were studded with iron and curled slightly outwards. The middle of the body was bent inwards and wrapped with studded leather smooth as silk. The chord was sturdy and hard to pull, but nothing a little arm training couldn’t fix.

I turned to the bowyer and raised the bow toward him. He grinned, obviously pleased with my choice, and made to a small table with some ink and paper. The gryphon motioned with his claw for me to come closer. He carefully took the bow off my hands, inspecting it thoroughly. Then Paul and me pooled our waning resources together to pay.

He looked at the meagre sack of money in my hands, before looking me squarely in the eyes and, for the first time since we came in, shaking his head.

“Oh,” I couldn’t help but sound out my surprise mixed with sadness and disappointment.

The poor bowyer looked quite uncomfortable now. To my surprise, disheartened, even. He looked at me, then the bow. In the end, he sighed and handed the bow to me. I offered him the money but he held his palm out, stopping me before leaving through a backdoor. Not a second later the chestnut gryphon brought me a quiver with about ten arrows in it, then he took my money.

He smiled at me as I bowed so deeply to him while thanking him profusely. Matching his own grin, Paul and I walked outside with my new bow and quiver already strapped to my back as we waved at him, and he at us.

Well, ten arrows wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, which is precisely what we would’ve gotten if not for the kindness of the bowyer fellow. That was quite dandy, but now we were plagued by another problem.

I upturned the leather pouch which used to hold our money and gems. Nothing fell out. We couldn’t operate like this. The wilderness was a nice place, but an unforgiving bitch that made you miserable at every given chance, much less a great place to sleep. Now that my anxiety over entering civilized places was mostly ignorable, renting hotel or tavern rooms was a much more appealing prospect. Plus, we’d need some money for re-supplying.

“What now?” Paul inquired on our financial situation.

“We get…a job, of course,” I answered with a smile.

My dear gryphon friend voiced my plan, “Jub?”

“Job,” I corrected him, then mimicked using a shovel, carrying something, or just generally working. He seemed to get it, and nodded, then pointed at a distinct building.

“You’re, like, reading my mind, man,” I grinned as I watched an inebriated gryphon walk out from the building. A place forgotten by God and probably few who were inside, a place to always get the newest gossip and a place to dry-drown yourself by dehydration on alcohol.

I made an eloquent hand gesture while bowing slightly toward this bastion of filth. “After you.”

Paul rolled his eyes, then swatted me across the face with his tail. And so we made our way to the tavern. For adventure and riches!

Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part II.

Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part I.

It was as generic a tavern as it gets. I even questioned if I didn’t, somehow, end up in a game of DnD. Anyway, tables, chairs, the few individuals drowning their sorrows or just enjoying a good buzz after a day of work (even though it was basically morning), and the occasional strange appearance or two. Like that minotaur hiding in the dark corner for some reason. I guess minotaurs were another sapient race, but didn’t inquire this thought further.

There were no windows to speak of. The only light coming in was from oil lanterns and the fireplace, casting their collective orange glow around while still letting darkness overtake some of the tables—excellent places for shady businesses.

Then there was, of course, the bartender. However, instead of a visibly beer-loving fellow cleaning a glass perpetually, there stood a pretty young gryphon who kept smiling for some reason, giggling every now and then as if remembering a joke.

I sat at one of the darkness-devoured tables while Paul went ahead and began the job hunt with the various sad or otherwise troubled individuals. Most told him to piss off if their tone was anything to go by, some just exchanged a few words, some just shook their heads. There weren’t that many people talking at this time of day, which meant I could overhear their conversations even though I didn’t really understand what they were talking about.

What was that? A catch, perhaps? One smaller gryphon, after being approached by Paul, started laughing hysterically. That is, until Paul pointed at the me, which was probably my cue to do something really tough. Like, crossing my arms or something like that while scowling extremely.

Now that he’d sized me up, an unknown creature that looked, and thus obviously had to be, tough, he scratched a small puff of dense feathers under his beak – a strange form of beard – before nodding slightly. He got up and was slowly escorted to my, and as such by extension Paul’s, table. This was good, hopefully.

Paul sat down and so did the fellow. The two of them engaged in a battle of wits or something. Me? I was just a spectator on the sideline, trying to still look tough. Man, my neck and jaws began to hurt from all the tension I was putting them under to channel my inner thug life.

Ooh, money! The good gentle… man? Gryphon? Whatever. This gentleman was obviously in a good mood with how much he gave us. Or, rather, tempted us with. Instead of giving us the pay, he took a small portion from the offered pouch full of shiny, shiny coins, and handed them to Paul. The rest he tucked away again.

Ah, a cash advance, then. Get the job done, you get payed in full, all that jazz.

The nice fellow soon picked all his feathers and shambled out of there still slightly under the effect of glorious alcohol. Well, at least we had some money now. Not much, however, even that is more than what we had a minute ago.

I high-fived Paul and we soon left that gloomy place behind. After scouring the town a little more, while obviously not being spied on by two certain guards, we found an empty, wooden bench we soon were sitting on.

“Good?” I asked him finally.

He just smirked enthusiastically before reaching into his massive backpack. After this dangerous plunge he pulled out a paper and some ink. Then he yanked a small feather from his wings. Promptly, Paul became an artist as he drew what couldn’t be said in words.

What it basically was:

A picture of a rodent, rat or something like that, followed by a big plus and the picture of a sword sticking out of an obviously dead rodent (‘x’s for eyes were a universal thing for dead things even in this world, I guess). All of that equals a bag of money. Yay.

So, hunting rats. Easy enough. It wasn’t anything… complicated or anything like that, which was good. But really, hunting rats? Could we get a more generic job than that? Well, I guess we could had been tasked to hunt mudcrabs…

“Where?” I asked him. Strangely enough, he didn’t point at any house. Rather, he unfolded our map and pointed at the foot of one of the hills just outside of this town. Weird. Perhaps a supply cave overrun with rats? Someone’s cellar or something? A breeding ground for the local populace of rodents? Whatever. They’d soon cease to inhabit this plane of existence.

Without much else to do but look like homeless people, we decided with a single, serious nod that we would set upon our mighty task immediately. Gryphon heads turned as we left the town on the other side than we entered.

Just at the edge of it, though, we turned around and waited. Waited as two completely inconspicuous ninja guards appeared as if they magically sensed our leaving the town. Well, we wouldn’t want to dash their hopes of becoming secret agents, now would we?

Carefully approaching us, they handed us back our axes before quickly flying away to, presumably, spy on us again.

Paul and I just shrugged at each other before going in the direction Paul’d indicated on map.

The cave was rather underwhelming, barely high enough for me to stand in. The entrance was obviously hidden, or at least someone tried to hide it, but failed miserably. Though, I did question if we ended up in the right place. It was quite devoid of anything, appearing as a generic cave entrance to me. The ground seemed a little scratched in places, but again that could just be a natural thing.

In any case, I unsheathed my axe and undid the cloth covering my crystal lamp, which I held in my left hand. A brilliant white light with a tinge of blue flooded the cave to reveal that the whole thing sloped downwards deeper into the bowels of the earth.

“Joy,” I sighed joylessly, before taking the first step inside, careful not to slip. Paul followed closely behind, his cleaver-axe-alldestroyer held in his beak, nomming on the cured leather handle. Being quadrupled must have sucked so bad.

Though it felt like forever, but was actually only half a minute, the cave began to even out and enlarge, no longer inducing claustrophobic feelings. Which was good, I guess, by the way Paul seemed to be more comfortable now.

Still, no rats, nothing. Just a… well, natural cave was probably not true. The more we walked the more it occurred to me that nature couldn’t make such a perfectly straight cavern. Soon, my thoughts would prove true.

The first screech almost painted my pants brown as a small thing charged me from the darkness. It was small, its head coming up to just below my knee. The creature was dressed in rags and in its little claws it held a piece of sharpened stone set into a thick stick. The thing was obviously struggling to hold this great burden.

The creature itself looked like a rat, but with a cup of anthropomorphism and half a spoon of human intelligence baked into it. If it really tried, it could probably do much more than incoherent screeching. But it didn’t seem like it wanted to expel such effort and energy into being more human-like. Not like it knew about humans, anyway.

The rat creature took about ten seconds (long enough to for me to look at Paul and shrug) to reach me. I just sidestepped and stuck out my leg, tripping him. The poor creature hit its head and didn’t get up.

Before I could even blink at the now unconscious body, Paul finished the job with a swift jerk of his head.

“Oh,” I voiced out my slight surprise as Paul just looked at me questioningly. Sometimes I forgot he was a predator like every gryphon.

I was breathing hard, the axe hanging limply in my right hand with the lantern hanging loose from the fingers of my left hand. Real fighting wasn’t all that awesome as movies would lead you to think. No, real fighting was terrifying and really exhausting. One wrong move and you were dead, just like that. A lifetime of creation snuffed in the blink of an eye.

A screech went down the cavernous hallway from somewhere ahead of us.

“Again?” I asked almost at the verge of breaking down and just dying. I could barely move my limbs.

There, from the darkness beyond the cleansing light of my lamp, came scuttering another of those things.

It was fast. Too fast for tired ol’ me.

However, Paul being the awesome gryphon he was, was tired only mildly, and as he must’ve seen my unwillingness to defend myself from this pest he rushed quickly to my side with a familiar looking, though now bloodied cleaver-axe hybrid in one of his claws.

Paul swung the axe just barely above my hunched back and head as I crouched to avoid the creature’s attack, and right into the ugly mug of that rat asshole.

A sickening crack echoed around the hallway mixed in with Paul’s shout of ferociousness. The creature flew a good few metres back to where it came from, this time, however, in two pieces. Paul didn’t even bat an eye. Perhaps he wasn’t as innocent as I’d thought.

No matter that, served the ratling right, trying to sucker punch a defenseless opponent.

Like you never sucker punched anyone, my consciousness reprimanded me, not missing the irony and hypocrisy of my own words. Don’t blame me, it’s not like I had much of a chance in a straight fight. I wasn’t really buffed. Humans are also fragile creatures compared to the monsters and beasts walking the face of this Earth. I’d decided to call it Earth, until I could learn the real name of this place. Sucker punching, in other words, was an unquestionable tactic for me. Ending fights before they begin and such.

I slumped to my knees, breathing heavily. Freaking ambushes hiding in the shadows of a large cave, man. And there were only eleven of them. Hopefully, that was all there was, otherwise it seriously wasn’t worth the money. But, by the last screeching, there had to be.

“Shit,” I breathed out, looking at the upper half of my left arm. One of those bastards managed to bite me, sinking its blackened teeth filled with a hundred diseases into my flesh. If I didn’t contract a single illness, you could all fall on your knees and worship my name, because I’d be the most miraculous, luckiest guy on this planet.

Well, now we knew where the money would go. Hopefully they had one of those nice hospitals somewhere, with pony magic and stuff.

Taking the cloth I’d previously had tied around the lantern, I wrapped it around the wound tightly. Would have to be enough for now.

After taking a breather while not being bothered by more rats, I decided we would still go forward, just to make sure those were all the rats we had to kill. We’d need the money, and risking not completing the task entirely would be foolish.

Paul and I shambled onward through the now once again narrow cave. There were clear signs everywhere pointing out the heavy usage of this hall. It was probably mined out by the rat things, as the whole cave didn’t look natural at all now.

We didn’t notice the orange glow because of our lantern until we were near it. The narrow cave suddenly ended and opened into… well, now I felt like I’d ended up in Moria.

The cavern was gigantic, probably the entire mountain was hollow for something like this to even exist. There were torches everywhere, illuminating the entire complex of grottos in its glory. A huge ravine divided two sides of the mountainous cave, so much that I could barely see the bustling activity at the other side of it.

I immediately hid the lantern under my shirt. Hopefully it was enough so that none of the billion ratlings that were all over the place had noticed us.

Not daring to even whisper, I looked at the completely terrified Paul. We both stared each other in the eyes, in unison deciding that fuck it, this shit wasn’t worth a billion whatever the local currency was, and we backed into the narrow cave again. Of course, nothing ever worked in our favour as my ears picked up the unmistakable scuttling of feet and claws against stone from the direction whence we came.

How the hell did they get behind us? The entire time there were no turns or entrances to other caves. Didn’t matter now. What mattered was that we were utterly fucked.

There was another loud screech. Someone, or rather something had found the corpses.

No, no, no, no, no! My mind went into overdrive. Perhaps there weren’t that many of them. Perhaps we could fight our way through outside.

Those perhapses were drowned in a sea of improbability like a tsunami snuffs out a campfire. Dozens of rats appeared in the light of their own torches, running toward us, but the narrow cave enabling for only a slow jog.

Dropping any pretenses at stealth, I screamed like a little girl, “Run! Fucking run!”

I’d never ran so fast in my life. I mean, there was this time when I was running just for fun, trying to build up some stamina when this cute girl joined me all of a sudden. She was running faster than me, and without any apparent effort. Of course, my manliness wouldn’t take it and made me go faster to the point of almost getting a heart attack. However, it was worth it. Yes, very much so. We ended up together for a few glorious months.

Anyway, I digress. We hightailed it out of there and we ended up backing into the enormous cavern. Looking behind me, I didn’t notice the end of the cliff until it was almost too late. My feet barely managed to stop at the very edge of of it, all while I swore profusely, my arms swinging around trying to not lose balance.

Paul didn’t care about my efforts to not fall to my death, though, as he just rammed me, throwing both of us over the edge and into the life-incompatible depths below. My curses turned into incoherent screaming. Man, I’d never screamed so hard before.

Of course, there was this time when I almost lost my vocal chords when I broke up a spider nest. Fuckers went scurrying and jumping everywhere, including onto me.

You know what? Compared to that, this wasn’t really so bad.

Chapter 16: The Covenant

Chapter 15: In the Hall of the Rat King - Part II.

“I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the sky! I think about it every night and day! Na na na na, na na na!”

It was about five seconds into the falling when my mind, collapsing unto itself in unspeakable terror, decided to parade me into the world beyond with style through a very famous song, though probably not so famous in this world, much less famous to the ears of ratlings that were probably watching me plunge to my death with amusement.

Paul wasn’t falling anywhere near me as far as I could see. Not like I could see anything as I was spinning in the air like a ballerina having a seizure. However, for a split second I did see something shining flying away. Well, there goes my second axe, then. Wasn’t like it mattered now.

Suddenly, something swooped past me deeper into the ravine, before the same shadow slowed down and passed me again, this time the other way. Not a split second later, the something caught me and yanked me upwards, sending my equilibrium into an even more horrible spiral, making me suddenly, horribly nauseous.

“Shhh!” a familiar gryphon shushed in my face, letting his spit fly everywhere. Ah, so gryphons did have salivary glands. I also noticed that I was still singing “Na, na na!” which was probably the reason why Paul was shushing me still.

“Okay!” I yelled back through the swooshing of air jovially as we kept gradually slowing down. My head was in the clouds, light as the feathers on the arms that held me from the dark death beneath. It felt almost like being in a drunken stupor.

We stopped, but the world kept spinning, so I kept grunting in displeasure at the unstability of reality.

Something grazed my shoulder, making me cry out in surprise and pain. Almost immediately my balance was thrown off again as Paul did some elaborate dodging before practically throwing me at some ledge. As I skidded to a halt on the cold, hard stone, Paul landed beside me, took hold of my legs and started dragging me into a small cave.

“Sorry,” I heard him whisper as my ears finally registered the commotion we caused out there. Hundreds of those things were crying out for blood. Our blood.

“Leave me to die, I don’t care, just don’t make me get up,” I half-wept over my battered body. A bitten and grazed arm, beat all over my body, now probably a dozen new bruises added on top of it all. I was hungry, thirsty, and the call of nature was strong in me.

For all that, the pain cleared my head pretty good.

“Run!” he yelled as a familiar bustling of paws on stone grew thunderously close. Scratch what I’d said, no way I was gonna die a painful death being eaten alive. That was, like, number 3 on my list of Ways I don’t want to die, right after burning alive and drowning. But what about falling from heights, do I hear you say? Yes, I might be afraid of heights, but falling on your head with enough force behind you is a quick and painless death compared the other gruesome ways to go.

That single scary thought gave me enough strength to get up pretty fast. Paul, seeing that I was quite capable of standing on my two feet without his help, took off down the ledge while the rat-like things started throwing wooden spears and stones at us. Oh boy.

The ledge was quite narrow and it sloped downward. I hated running downwards. Almost impossible to stop yourself. But it’s not like I needed to stop, considering the now a dozen or two ratlings closing in behind me. Soon enough, I was more jumping than running, and my main goal was now not to run faster, but to not disastrously slip. Easier said than done.

In fact, I was soon running-jumping so fast Paul ended up behind me instead.

Like the introduction of a side character in a bad novel, there were suddenly ratlings half a hundred meters in front of me, too.

“Problem!” I yelled, hopefully loud enough so that Paul could’ve heard me without my needing to turn my head around. That would end up in painful tumble into the waiting jaws of unholy beasts.

My glorious gryphon friend, maybe taking the cue or just seeing the problem in front of us with his very own eyes, suddenly had me under his arms and off the ground with a powerful flap of his wings. He dodged left, taking us off the ledge and away from the bastards trying to block our way.

Then I felt it. The mysterious presence of power that I’d felt back at the silver forest. Time seemed to slow down, or perchance it were just my senses in overdrive, but everything looked sharp and slow all of the sudden. My eyes were drawn to a cave entrance, gilded with bones and trinkets. There was something special about that cavern, and I wanted to know more. No, I needed to know more.

“Go right!” I screamed loud as all hell. Paul, clearly panicked, probably took the assurance in my voice like a ship caught in storm welcomes the light of a lighthouse. With yet another powerful beat and rush of air, we shot straight into the decorated cave where we tumbled to the ground, luckily without me hitting my head. That would’ve meant the end of our journey, most likely.

As it was, I shouted even as my legs almost gave up beneath me once I stood up, “Go!”

So we ran, hordes of the most annoying things walking this planet right behind us. We stumbled in the unilluminated parts of the cave, my lantern lost now somewhere in the bowels of the mountains. Bones hung from the ceiling and the walls, trinkets and gems lay at both sides of the cave, making our running in the dark even more difficult.

There was a brilliant golden glow right in front of us. Like lost souls searching for guidance, we embraced the light and entered it.

It was an almost perfectly circular room with flat floor and ceiling. No decoration adorned the room except for dozens of torches illuminating the whole room in golden light. My first thought was how much effort it had to take to keep all the torches perpetually burning. I could think of the weirdest, most trivial things in times of crisis.

Then there was a small pedestal. Simple, square, and made of stone like everything around it (except for the torches, of course). Upon it, a small bracelet sat perfectly in the middle.

That was it. There was no way out, nothing. We were now trapped pigs waiting for slaughter. Good place my feelings brought me to, really great.

Seeing the futility of our situation, Paul drew his axe and blocked the narrow opening with his entire body, waiting for the rats to catch up to us.

Exhaustion like never before hit my every bone and muscle, making me collapse to my knees and arms. It was useless. I’d die here, never to see my friends, my family, my brother... ever again. In that moment, I realized the emptiness of my actions, of my goals and promises. How could I fight, when my enemy was the world and time itself. An endless field of things strange and unknown, and among it I had to search for a small needle. A single tear trailed down my face.

Everything was for naught.

All was silent. Strange nothingness befell my senses as the thundering sound of hundreds of little feet and the heavy breathing of Paul and I were gone. Everything moved in perfect silence.

Do you want it? There it was, the strange presence that drew me here.

The bracelet was all I could see.

Take it.

A roaring hunger, a jealous thirst and lust, hit me with such force it sent me reeling, but something was holding me, not letting me fall lest I don’t stand up again. My mind and body switched to the most primal of instincts. Strength from the deepest parts of my soul lifted me back onto my feet. As if in delirium, my mind shoved me toward the pedestal.

Never before was my body filled with such overwhelming desire. It didn’t matter whence it came, why it was there, or what its purpose was. All that mattered was that it was, and that the one thing to even hope to sate it lay in front of me.

I snatched it. Not even looking at it closely, I attempted to shove the thing onto my hand. I needed to feel its presence around my forearm; to feel it constrict around my wrist.

It took a few tries, but eventually I managed to slip it on.

There was the sound of a rushing waterfall somewhere in the room, and as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. The room rumbled for a second, and it knocked me off my feet. However, when I looked at Paul, he was still blocking the doors with the mass of his body. He seemed completely unfazed with the miniature earthquake a few seconds ago.

Nothing else happened. Now I was down, and too weak to get up.

Don’t give up yet, idiot. When in doubt, start calling yourself names. Does wonders for your confidence.

Let me help you, child, a thought, perhaps my own, perhaps the result of my weariness, rattled my already aching skull, even though it was just a whisper spoken into the breeze.

Just let me in. The voice again, as if someone incredibly suavee was whispering from everywhere at once. It brought with it something that left me a mere moment ago. The promise of strength and hope.

Even through the haze of my mind, I wasn’t stupid. I won’t try to act as if I didn’t know, or at least guess. I wasn’t some book or movie hero who was clueless for the purpose of the plot. I’ve read and seen enough books and movies to know what was going on. The voice was obviously in my head, and the bracelet had something to do with it. The strange presence of power was stronger still, now like a heartbeat matching my own.

A ray of hope, that was all I needed. The light of a chance to keep searching, to not die in this forsaken place, was all I wanted. To see my lost little brother again, and save him from this world, was all I hoped for.

But would it be worth it? Whatever this creature was, there’s probably a reason why it was hidden in the deepest part of this dungeon, guarded by bazillions of anthropomorphic rat creatures. No, I wasn’t clueless nor dumb.

“I am not giving you my soul or body. Do you think me an idiot that I’d ever fall for such a stupidly obvious cliché tactic?” I whispered out. For whatever reason I didn’t care about right now, the alien voice spoke in English in my head, so it was only right that I answered such.

No, not at all. My only desire is for you to survive.

Like a voice whispering in my head would care, I thought sarcastically.

But I do care, my host. I am trapped here just like you are.

Great, it can read my thoughts.

It most certainly can.

What did I do to deserve a cursed artifact possessed by a smartass entity?

The artifact is neither cursed nor possessed. ‘Tis but the channel of my true self.

Can you speak at least speak less like a cliché villain trying to lure me into his services and more like a believable entity, please?

I most certainly can. But will I? His voice boomed, no longer whispering.

I didn’t have the mood nor patience nor time for this. I wanted to die in peace at least, not being annoyed by a smartass whatever the hell this creature now whispering sweet nothings in my ear was.

Could you at least be silent as I am devoured in horrible agony by hundreds of rats?

And with that, I just watched Paul, heroically still standing there, blocking the entry with his body, but otherwise doing nothing.

Wait!

Well, well, well, now this was something interesting. Was that desperation I heard in its voice?

What do you have to lose? If you don’t let me in, you’ll die here. If you let me in, I’ll save you. Even if I were to somehow possess you, you’d still be alive.

Living as a puppet isn’t any kind of life I’d want to live, I thought resolutely, closing my eyes as they could no longer bear to be left open, my eyelids now heavier than lead. For all of that, my mind was still strangely clear, allowing me no rest nor respite from this dufus.

It makes me sad that it is necessary, but I promise that I’ll release you once we both get out.

Someone once said, “Oaths are but words, and words but wind.” It’s going to take a lot more than a promise to not die a free man.

But what about your brother?

There was a significant pause as my mind suddenly erupted with thousands of questions.

How-

You were thinking about him pretty hard earlier.

Son of a bitch.

Isn’t he worth risking this for?

I didn’t answer. Not like I could, really. Of course that was the first reason I, for but a second, considered the offer. Anything that could bring me closer to him was a win in my books. But, if I became possessed by a demon or whatever… Maybe I would see him on the other side. The notion that there was nothing after all of this didn’t dare to cross my mind.

Your silence says more about you than your words. Let me in, and you will yet have a chance to meet him, to save him. Do you not love him so that even death is not an obstacle?

My resolution broke down like a burned wooden dam. Any hope, any chance.

Do what you must. Was my last thought before my battered body finally gave out.

Chapter 17: A hectic day

Chapter 16: The Covenant

All of a sudden, I was standing outside, the sun assaulting me through the canopy of trees. Quite disoriented, I whipped my head around to see on which plane of existence I existed now.

My poor self was standing back at the cave’s entrance, covered in blood and gore.

“Eww!” I scrunched my face as a small piece of something slid down my shoulder, and I batted it away with a flick of my wrist on instinct, covering my fingers with the same sticky substance.

“Peter?” Paul, standing a little too far from me as if he was afraid of me.

“Yes?” I asked him, not quite sure what just happened. “What? What was?” If there was something on this world that annoyed me completely, it was learning the local language. God dammit, it was such a torture not being able to talk like a normal person.

In answer, Paul jumped at me, throwing us both down onto the ground. Hey, it wasn’t like my battered body couldn’t take more…

He hugged me something fierce, almost squeezing the contents of my stomach out of me. Not that there was anything to squeeze out. I hadn’t eaten all day.

And I still needed to do my business. Disgusting, I know, but it’s only natural.

“Paul!” I wheezed out, but it took him about a minute more before he let me go. When he finally did, I couldn’t quite contain the surprise and confusion at such treatment. “What was that?”

He just smiled at me, then frowned as he pointed at my right wrist. So, I held my right hand in front of my face to see what the problem was. There, around the wrist, was a pretty plain bracelet. It looked like three roots twisted around each other to form an endless circle. It even had the woody texture only tree roots have. Weird.

It took my brain a few second before I realized how it got there.

“Hello?” I whispered so that Paul wouldn’t hear while nonchalantly looking around.

Welcome back, host.

“I have a name, you know?”

“Peter? You good?” Paul asked a little concerned as I whipped my head around. The whole voice from nowhere and everywhere at once was quite confusing to my brain, throwing its sense of surrounding space off.

“Yeah, good,” I waved his concern off and put forth a better question. “What now?”

“Town?”

“Yes.”

And so we went, not even once turning back to look at the cave, walking in silence as always. Except, it wasn’t all that silent to me.

You don’t have to whisper, I can hear your thoughts just fine.

Oh, right. So…

Awkward silence ensued, but I had the sense that my new friendly neighbour was quite amused with my lack of social capabilities when it came to voices in one’s head.

What should I call you? Perhaps not the best question out there, however, it was the first thing that broke through the awkwardness.

The voice chuckled, now suddenly dark and deep.

Throughout history, many have called me: The Angel of Darkness.

I snorted, which startled Paul a little. I just brought my hand up to him and shook my head, gesturing that everything was fine. He went back to thinking whatever the hell he was thinking about whenever we couldn’t really do much in the silence.

Angel of darkness? Are you kidding me?

What would you have me called, then?

I… don’t know. Just anything but that.

Would you deign to acquaint me with thy reason to dislike my name?

Please, your supposed name that has most certainly soiled many pants throughout history is an insult to anyone with at least a sliver of intelligence.

…

That hurt. Was that a sob I heard?

Truth hurts, I thought instantly before I could mute my insolent mind. Dammit, I didn’t want to anger him without knowing his strength.

Damn… he said with a whistle.

…

Aaaanyway, I broke the scary silence in my mind. Why do you sometimes act and speak like the most sophisticated nobleman, and then act like the childish… est? Childishest? Is that even a word? Nevermind… ugh. Where was I… Childishest of children? Or- gah! You know what I mean. Like a childish dufus.

A powerful chuckle made my head rattle again, but this time I managed to zone the feeling out a little. Woot, power of will!

Forgive me. I’ve occupied many mortals in the period of my… existence. And each one was as unique in personality as in speech and speech patterns. I seem to have soaked up their styles and personalities, and mingled them into one.

Or he was just plain crazy, one of the two.

Well, that brings a question. What are you exactly?

Who. I was a mortal once, too. But circumstances made me what I am these days.

Yeah, great, but what are you?

A hard question, child. Perhaps I am just a scholar who wanted too much, perhaps I am a demon in search of souls to devour, perhaps I am something else entirely.

You’re not going to convince me like that.

Convince to what?

I noticed awhile ago Paul was glancing at me every now and then. So, I asked him about this little quirk he had, “What?”

He stopped suddenly, looking around hesitantly before taking a deep breath and giving me a resolute stare.

“Bad,” he said while pointing at my new bracelet. I looked at it. The channel of Dufus, heh.

I am no dufus.

Too bad. I really like that name.

Paul had a point though. Whatever it was, it apparently managed to get inside me and control me, but it seemed to be able to do so only with my permission. There was also the thought-reading, which just made the entity plain creepy. What if I were to suddenly picture something disgusting involving me and-

Purge your mind of this terrible image, I beg you!

Oops, my bad.

Not knowing much about the nature of this being, and it not really bringing anything useful to the table beside witty remarks, I think Paul was right. And it was time to put this entity to the test.

So, I pulled the bracelet off of my hand, though it was rather painful as the bracelet wasn’t all that big.

I’d advise against any rushed decisions, my host. While I can’t stop you in your current state, there’ll come a day when you’ll need my help, and shan’t find it because I’ll be gone.

Then make me an offer I can’t refuse.

I can give you power, that much is certain. Just take notice of your mind and body. Look deeply at yourself.

After a moment of thought, I realized he was right. My fatigue was gone, the bruises were almost healed, and all in all I felt great.

How?

‘Tis but a taste of what I offer you.

There’s a price, however.

Yes.

A moment of silence ensued before I realized he was being smart with me again. I felt really tempted to just throw him away.

You need to let me in.

What? I thought you’re already in my head.

I could hear the sound of a deep breath.

Yes and no. I am not in any way present in your head or body. I am just able to peer into your mind and communicate with you through the bracelet. As I’d said, it’s but a channel of myself.

So, I need to let you inside me instead of just communicating with you through your bracelet?

Yes.

So that you could inhabit my body…

Yes.

And then you’re going to give me power?

Yes.

Do you realize how that sounds?

Yes.

And you’re not going to try to convince me that letting you inside me is worth the power and whatnot?

No.

Alright, let’s say I’d entertain the thought of accepting such a ludicrous offer. What would it entail? What would you actually gain from it?

The Void is such a dark and lonely place. Anything would be better than this.

The Void? Is that one of your “throughout history” things too?

Dufus ignored my remark, instead deeming to answer my first question, The source of magic, of course.

The source of magic?

Yes, most, if not all, magic comes from the Void.

So, you’re in this void now, this... source of magic?

Indeed.

So you could teach me how to cast magic?

A wondrously earthquake-y laugh numbed my every sense, rattling me so much I fell to my knees, Dufus’ bracelet falling from my hand.

“Peter!” Paul yelled out in concern, rushing to my side immediately.

“I am okay, okay.” I put out my hands, indicating no wounds or pain. Actually, I was more than okay. Dufus was now silent, or rather, not present as I noticed the bracelet no longer being in my hand, sparing me of his rowdy voice.

I reached toward it, but Paul stopped me before I could, catching my arm with his talon.

“No,” he said pleadingly, shaking his head. I smiled warmly at that, and put my other hand on his talon, patting it a little.

“Yes,” I whispered reassuringly (or hopefully, I was). Before using my left hand (my right still being held) to pick the bracelet up.

The damn bastard was still laughing.

Be silent, or I’ll leave you lying in dirt.

Oh, you’re so rich. Wait, what was I laughing about?

I asked you if you could teach me magic or something.

Oh… well, I don’t know why I found that funny, that’s actually a pretty good question.

I started question my sanity when I decided to interact with him some more.

To answer your question, no, not in the current state of things. I’d have to be present in you, then use myself as a channel for magic to cast it through you.

Ah, so another reason to “let you in.”

You could say…

Okay. Anything else to convince me?

No, not really.

Well, then I am sorry to announce my decision to not let you possess me. Sorry, and bye.

I looked Paul in the eyes, while I reached with my left arm behind me, preparing to throw the bracelet away.

Wait!

Hmm? I looked at the bracelet again, looking intently at it.

There’s… something. Just please, don’t throw me away.

Why the sudden change of heart? I couldn’t help but smirk.

Dufus sighed again with the sting of defeat. Why did he even need to sigh? It’s not like he needed lungs to make thoughts in my head.

I… I don’t want to be alone again.

…

That was not what I’d expected.

I’ve been down there so long, being surrounded by semi-sapient rats trying to use me. I had no one but myself to talk to.

You know, you’ll have to think of a better sob story than that.

That’s the truth, but seeing as that doesn’t really budge your cold heart... I can offer you one thing that could work without me being directly inside your body.

And that would be? I picked myself off the ground as my knees started to hurt. Paul was watching me with concern, probably because I kept staring at the piece of jewelry so intently.

Knowledge. I’ve lived for a long time. Centuries. I know many things that could come in handy to you.

Knowledge. How tempting, really. Knowing stuff was in itself power. And it was precisely what I needed right now. This world was an enigma, a puzzle where I was missing essential pieces.

I am listening.

I would provide my mind’s library to you for but one single condition. You will not get rid of me until I say so.

What’s stopping me from throwing you away once you’re unneeded?

You’ll find that I’ll be a great asset throughout your entire journey.

How can I know you’ll just not possess me once I accept.

I’d have done it by now if I could.

Honestly, your sincerity isn’t helping you right now.

It’s the last thing I have.

I want to say that I thought deeply about his offer. I want to say I spent great amount of time contemplating and discussing this with Paul. Frankly, though, it was too tempting for me.

I accept… on one condition.

I should be the one demanding things.

But you aren’t. Here’s the condition: your name will henceforth be Dufus.

There was a loud growling. You drive a hard bargain.

Take or leave.

Fine, he answered mockingly after not even a second of contemplating, but don’t expect me to like it.

Oh, by the way, I thought before putting the bracelet back on.

What now? he asked exasperatedly.

You probably know a lot of languages, right?

Yes, I know quite a lot of them. And I see where this is going.

Of course you would, you can read my goddamn mind.

Yes, it is possible, but it will be a little strange.

Don’t care. How will it work?

Since we’re communicating at the speed of thoughts, I’ll be able to, let’s say “disrupt” the stream of thoughts you’re transferring to your yapper, and translate everything to whatever language you want. You’ll be thinking in your language, while your mouth will produce different results. I must warn you however, not everything can be translated as languages are a lot of times different. Idioms will be a problem, for example, so try not to use them, even though there probably is an equivalent in whatever language you want me to translate them to.

Oh, great.

Yeah, awesome.

I don’t like your sarcasm.

I don’t like my new name, but what can I do about it?

I sighed, then decided to try this out.

“Hey. Can you understand me?” It was really strange. As Dufus had explained, I was trying to speak my mother tongue, but bizarre sounds were coming out of my mouth. But I knew enough that those sounds were of the accursed Balderdash.

Paul immediately jumped back in surprised. He said something, but all I understood was my name.

Hey, can you make it go both ways?

Dufus answered with a sigh, Of course, but expect a delay and that the words won’t match his mouth movement.

Alright, let’s do this.

Suddenly friends, are we?

“Could you repeat that?” I asked him once again. “Wow, this is really fucking strange.” I added offhandedly.

“What did you do to him?” I looked at Paul, currently engaged in his Don’t fuck with me stance. What was he talking about

“To who?”

He didn’t even blink at my question. “To Peter.”

Spreading my arms wide, I pointed at myself. “I am Peter, what are you talking about?”

I was getting a small suspicion, though.

“Stop playing with me, creature. Release him!” Oh, did he growl. Taking me by surprise, I involuntarily stepped back from the suddenly not-so-nice gryphon.

“Wow, you’re getting quite scary, featherhead.”

He’s talking about me.

Yeah, I was figuring that out. What did you do to make him so nervous? What did you do to get us out?

Oh, nothing much. Just sentenced a dozen or two rats to brutal death.

Oh, joy.

It was.

“I will not repeat myself.”

“And I won’t repeat myself either. Look, I know what you’re talking about.” I tried to look as nonthreatening as I could. “You think I am still being controlled by him, but I am not. Really. Just ask me something.”

“Like how you know how to speak Equal?”

Wow, would you like some cold water for that burn? Also, Equal’s the language you dubbed Balderdash. A more fitting name, to be honest. It’s rubbish.

Where did you even learn modern English slang? And what idiot thought that Equal is a good name for a language?

I skimmed your mind for everything English related, since I need to know as much as I can to properly translate. There’s not much, though.

Are you implying something?

Not at all.

With a sigh, I answered, “Dufus is doing the translating. I made an agreement with him, but I am still in charge.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “Prove it.”

Will get back right to you.

Don-

Dufus’ bracelet thudded against the ground dully.

“See? Still in charge,” I let my arms down, looking at Paul with a hopefully friendly smile. It might’ve looked like I was trying to eat him. Never been good at the stuff.

He squawked something, to which I just shook my hand and shrugged. In the end, he just asked uncertainly. “Peter?”

“Yes. I Peter. You, Paul.” The moment I said his name he seemed to relax, but remained wary.

“I am good. Dufus good.”

“Dufus?” He asked confused. In explanation I pointed at the bracelet on the ground.

“No good.” Paul immediately shook his head.

“Yes. Please. Trust me,” I pleaded to him, but I knew that this stubborn gryphon wouldn’t be convinced. I wasn’t convinced, to be honest, in the truthfulness of Dufus. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that we needed him. We were like lost children searching for sunlight in a building without windows.

He just shook his head again. While doing so, I picked up Dufus again, and shoved him on my wrist.

You scared me there.

He doesn’t trust you.

Of course he doesn’t. How did you convince him, anyway?

I said his name.

Ah, wise choice. He never told me his name.

“I know you don’t trust him, Paul. Hell, I don’t trust him, either. Yet, we need him. Think about it, please.”

Paul looked a little uncomfortable when I began speaking Balderdash effortlessly. He looked away, not looking at me while speaking, “How do you do that?”

“As I’d said, Dufus is doing the translating, I am just thinking thoughts in my language and he does the rest.”

“How can you know he doesn’t mistranslate things on purpose?”

“We appear to be speaking and understanding each other just fine.”

But he has a point. How can I know you won’t try to fuck with me?

I can’t convince you, as you already believe this is a game of who’s gonna betray the other first. Thought reading, remember?

Fuck.

You’ll just have to trust me. Nevertheless, believe me that however it is, I am going to enjoy this ride.

Interlude: Hello, my name is Paul

Chapter 17: A hectic day

“Shit,” I announced my sudden realization to the world around me once I concluded my business behind a tree. What? It’s only natural!

“What?” Paul asked once I returned to his side.

“I just realized my backpack’s gone.” Sure enough, reaching behind myself yielded no results whatsoever. In all the chaos of the previous half an hour, the thought of my stuff never crossed my mind.

My gryphon friend just smiled at me awkwardly. “Your backpack kind of got torn apart down there once… uuh... Dufus got into a fight with some rats. I took as much of your things as I could into mine, but there wasn’t much to salvage.”

Great, not only did I lose the crystal lantern and my axe, I lost my supplies too.

“What did you salvage?” I asked immediately, hoping he’d saved the most important thing in that backpack.

“Dad’s skinning knife, of course, the map and a blanket. Everything else was torn apart. Including the picture of your brother—torn to shreds, sorry.”

My shoulders sagged a little at the newfound lack of connection to my brother. For the entire journey, I hadn’t even dared to pull it out of the backpack in fear of damaging it. I wanted to use it once we reached the city to search for whomever had drawn it. But I guess that plan was gone now.

At least we still knew where to go.

Then there was Jack’s knife, a parting gift from my saviour and, for the time I’d known him, a dear friend. This at least made me smile. With a sigh, we embarked on our journey back to the city again. A thought kept nagging at my mind, though, so I voiced it out.

“Paul, now that we can finally speak like civilized people, I’d really love to talk about us. Get to know each other better.” Paul nodded with a smile, and pointed ahead of us where the city came to full view as we left the small forest and its animal-beaten path at the mountain’s foot.

“There’ll be time for that later, we should collect our reward first.” He seemed almost giddy about the whole thing. If I wasn’t hurt and disheartened by the whole ordeal, I would probably be too. I mean, we were in a fantasy land on a real adventure, doing real quests!

There was one thing, however. I didn’t want to be the bringer of bad news, but someone had to say it. “Paul, we didn’t exactly fulfill the task.”

The gryphon laughed stiffly, avoiding any contact with me whatsoever. A suspicion of bad things suddenly befell me. “Paul,” I called out his name a little menacingly, making him wince a little, “what did you do?”

“I… didn’t do anything, it was Dufus.”

Hey! Don’t blame me! He wanted to have some evidence of our struggle.

He can’t hear you, you know that.

Yes, but you can relay what I said.

“It’s ok Paul, I won’t be mad or anything. Just tell me what you did.”

Paul, after three deep breaths, set his bulging backpack down, undid the straps holding the thing at the brink of explosion, and pulled out… about a dozen rat tails. I stared at them for a small while, just looking as they dangled from Paul’s talon like a glockenspiel, slowly moving in the breeze. The tails were nicely severed at the base, which preserved their full length and thus the gross estimation one could make about the rats’ sizes.

I didn’t understand what he was getting so worked up about, though. This seemed like a logical solution to our problem. A nice forethought on his part.

It was actually my idea. See? I am already irreplaceable!

Of course you are...

“And?” I just shrugged as Paul kept looking at me through the pendulous tails.

“And? This is okay with you?” He sounded so surprised for some reason.

“Yes, why shouldn’t it?”

“I just assumed… I’ve never really seen you kill anything, much less hurt anything. And you always declined to go hunting with me.” He lowered the talon still holding the tails, shifting a little in place as he explained himself.

Oh Paul, you don’t even know.

Know what?

Later.

Instead of reminiscing about the past, I decided to shift the conversation in a different direction. “What do you mean I declined hunting with you? You never asked!”

As I’d dissipated the dense atmosphere with my question, the gryphon seemed to have reverted back to his cheery self as he stashed the rat tails back into his backpack. “Well, duh! I couldn’t exactly ask you in a normal way, could I?”

“Then how did you ask?”

“Well, I tried gesturing. A lot…”

Suddenly, memories of him doing a weird rendition of belly dancing came to my mind.

“Wait, you mean those... dances?”

“Dances?”

“Yeah, the ones with the belly.”

Paul just stood there, his beak shaped into a silent “o.” He stood frozen like that for about a second, before he realized something. “I guess there was a lot of belly involved.”

“Looked like belly dancing to me.”

“Belly dancing?”

“Well, you know,” I started wriggling my belly around, putting my arms above my head, “belly dancing?”

“Uhhh,” was the confused gryphon’s only response before making some gesture toward my awesome dancing skills. “Is that a… uh, your species’ thing?”

I stopped dancing. “In some parts of the world, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s… interesting.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence ensued, filling the air with its rancid stench of nothingness. We slowly started looking around at all the interesting things, like the rocks, and the trees. The sun was pretty nice, too, though it was hard to look at.

“Maybe we should go,” Paul said slowly, taking me out of my reverie. He pointed behind himself toward the town.

“Great idea,” I answered and so we stepped through the imaginary border dividing it from the wild. Soon enough, the master ninjas came to greet us once again, most likely waiting the entire time for us to return. I wonder what would’ve happened if we never returned?

Without a word, they landed between us and the town, daring us to move one more step in its direction. “Coming back so soon?” one of them sneered.

A resolute “yes” was Paul’s only answer.

The other guard, instead of focusing at Paul, had decided to stare at me, the dried gore on me, and my wounded arm. “What were you doing, exactly?” he asked once he finished assessing me. Heh, can’t spell assessing without “ass.”

“That’s right. What were you doing?” the other one inquired with a small cackle. “You look like you’re up to no good. We don’t want criminals in here, doing criminal things.”

The only criminal thing in here is your attempts at stealth, jerk, I thought, but didn’t dare to voice my opinion out loud. Gryphons had amazing sight, but not at the expense of their hearing.

“I already said we were on a quest to kill some rats,” Paul practically growled.

“Oh? Well, aren’t you a warrior. Do you have any way to prove your mighty claims?”

My friend slammed his backpack to the ground, opened it up with fury unheld, and essentially shoved the rat tails into their faces. “Happy now?” He glowered at them. The guards in question studied the tails with fake expressions of cleverness, one of them even going so far as to prod one of the tails and nod thoughtfully.

“Alright. But what about your friend there?” As soon as he mentioned me his voice dropped.

“One of the rats annoyed him, so he proceeded to kill them all.” Paul said that in a monotonous tone, as if stating an obvious fact. His voice fluctuated a little, showing perhaps more emotion than he wanted, but the guards luckily didn’t seem to catch that and took the lie like a child devouring a spoon of sugar.

“Okay, okay,” one of them said and proceeded to make placating gestures toward me. They were so horrible, though, that some would perhaps mistake them for things more lewd. “Just hand us your weapons and don’t cause any trouble.”

Paul very reluctantly gave them his axe, and when they looked at me, I just shrugged. I didn’t exactly have a weapon now except for the skinning knife. But I wasn’t about to show it to them, was I?

Again, they didn’t even check Paul’s backpack before flying away in a hurry. Paul stormed off into the town, whilst I trailed behind him like a smoke.

You should cash in on your reward as soon as possible, then hurry to a hospital. I can feel the disease flowing through your veins.

Thank you, captain obvious.

I dashed to Paul’s side. “Where can we find the gryphon who sent us into that shithole?”

Instead of answering straight, he looked at me oblongly, before saying, “Do you always cuss so much?”

“Sometimes. But, you know, when it’s appropriate.”

“Dad always said it’s never appropriate,” he replied firmly.

I sighed. Wish my father shared that opinion. “Jack raised you well.”

I realized Paul had been leading us back to the tavern, into which he basically barged without heed or care, me following closely behind. We just wanted our money for that arduous ordeal.

But you got me, wasn’t that worth it?

Not even replying to that, we quickly scanned the room of gryphons and the one shady minotaur who sat in the same spot as before. Our gracious task-giver, though, was nowhere to be found, thus leaving us in a weird situation.

“Hey,” a deep voice cut through the subsequent silence and stares of the tavern’s patrons. Paul and I turned slowly to the minotaur’s table, a liter tankard resting comfortably near a familiar looking pouch. “Your friend left this here,” he continued before picking his massive mug and drinking deeply of it.

I looked at Paul uncertainly, myself being quite uncomfortable, which I noted he was too. We carefully approached the table, across which the minotaur slid our disbursement.

“What happened to the gryphon?” I asked, almost whispering as the rest of the tavern went back to its, mostly silent, business.

“He left.”

“Okay.” Both Paul and I didn’t really ask any questions after that, instead we were very glad for our payment. After a quick glance inside, it looked like we came out of this calamity a little loaded. Or it could be a pretty pisspoor reward, I couldn’t really tell thanks to my lack of knowledge of the local currency. Paul was always the one to do the shopping.

It’s enough to get you into the hospital and pay the bills.

Not being one to insult what looked like half a ton of muscles, I bowed a little in a thank you before quickly hurrying after the already leaving Paul.

“What was that about?” Paul asked silently, pacing in place a little.

“Beats me,” I said, looking into the pouch before handing it to Paul. “How much is that?”

He ruffled through the coins and hefted the whole pouch in his claws. “Enough to let us treat that arm and get us some nice dinner.”

I looked up at the sky. It was getting kinda harder to see. Just how much time did we spend down in the rathole?

“Let’s find a doctor before it gets too dark then,” I said still looking at the sun dipping ever so slowly behind the forest to the west.

With a few requests for directions, we were soon sitting in the local doctor’s office. It was a pretty big step back from the modern hospital I had visited previously. However, to the doctor’s credit, he didn’t even blink when he saw who his next patient was. Soon the doctor was torturing me with alcohol, cleaning my wound thoroughly.

“Well, the good news is the wound isn’t deep, so no stitches needed. But by what you’ve told me, there’s a slight chance you contracted something. Just to be sure, I’ll give you some herbs to at least slow down the process of infection and strengthen your immunity. Since from your teeth I judge you’re an omnivore, the herbs shouldn’t cause you any trouble with your digestive tract, no matter the species. Unless you aren’t an omnivore or herbivore, then your body might be inclined to get rid of this remedy faster than usual.”

“No, you’re absolutely right, sir doctor. I am an omnivore,” I replied before he could get into more graphic details.

“Good. I recommend you stay somewhere warm tonight. Preferably wash yourself to see if you have any other wounds that might need treatment.”

“Alright.”

He nodded to himself as he wrote something on a piece of paper on his desk, then he stormed off to return a moment later with a bag filled with multitude of different types of dried leaves, and a roll of gauze.

“Crush one handful of these in your palm, then let it sit for about fifteen to twenty minutes in hot water. Drink while still warm. Do it three times a day, and no problems should occur.”

While explaining, he got to securing my wound with the gauze, tightening it painfully around the whole injury.

“You’re set now, just take it easy for the rest of the day, and you should be fine.” The doctor stepped over to his desk, writing down more things.

“That’s twenty talons,” he announced after contemplating what appeared to be some calculations. I could tell by how he used his claws’ digits now and then.

Paul’s face went stone cold, making it quite clear to anyone watching what he thought of the price. I guess it was pretty horrible to cause such a reaction in the otherwise jolly gryphon. Passing the money silently, he tugged at my trousers before making his way out, not even looking at me.

“Take care,” the gryphon doctor said, in return to Paul’s coldness not looking away from the money he was counting.

“You too.” With that, I was out the door where Paul was fuming.

“That stuck up crackbeak of a featherless keythong!” he raged. What was supposed to be quite scary, though, looked just cute with Paul. He was still smaller and younger than most other gryphons, lacking their natural ferocious visage. So, when his face turned red, he just became more hug-worthy.

“Hey, who’s the one cussing now?” I chuckled.

Paul stopped at my remark, took a deep breath and then, while gesturing accordingly with his right arm (because screw saying front legs all the time), let it all out.

“Back home it wouldn’t cost half that.”

“Well,” I squeezed his shoulder, “guess we’re not back home, hmm?” Patting him gently, he seemed to relax even more, almost leaning into my hand.

“I guess we’re not.” He said sadly, hanging his head low. “I miss mom and dad, and my little brother.”

“Aww,” I couldn’t help myself but to hug him right then and there. Passersby stared at us, however they didn’t bother us otherwise.

“I know that feel,” I cooed while burying my face into the unearthly softness of his feathers.

He suddenly perked up, as if hit by a lightning. “Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Not at all. Everyone misses their home and family from time to time, nothing wrong about that.”

“Yeah,” he sighed heavily again, but otherwise didn’t move. We just sat there on the stairs leading up to the slightly elevated clinic.

I was sitting in our rented room in the local hostel after getting some dinner from a small restaurant still open into the late night. It was warm enough inside that I could sit there with nothing on me except a towel around my waist.

The room wasn’t much to look at, but it had warm water running probably thanks to the magic of the unicorn running the business.

The doctor might’ve been a niggard, but he was still a doctor. It was already getting heavily dark outside, so there was nothing more but to roam around the hostel and our room, perhaps getting a drink or something small to eat in the bar downstairs.

That’s where Paul was right now, anyway. He said he would get me some water for the leaves, and maybe something stronger too. The silent room left me to contemplate what to do next. It wasn’t like there was much to ponder, though. We could only go north-northwest along the mountains, which would get us to what looked to be a coastal city which lay in the gap between the sea and the mountains. We would go a bit north of the city, and then just straight east, crossing the great valley. There, somewhat north-east of the valley’s center, lay our destination.

Vanground. The capital of the gryphon kingdom, if times hadn’t changed much. Our destination, I presume?

Yes, you should know why with those freaky privacy-defiling mind reading powers.

Indeed I do.

I put the map down, folding it neatly on the table that stood beside my bed. There was a second bed right across the room, with a similar table. At each table was a low, broad chair. That was about it for the furniture in the room. Then there was a single window in the middle of the wall to my right, and directly opposite was the door leading into the hall. Attached to the ceiling was a small crystal lamp, secured with iron frame hammered into the ceiling with heavy bolts, and light spilling into the room through thick glass. The last thing was a door to the right of Paul’s bed, leading to a somewhat big bathroom with a big shower (which I appreciated greatly) with a few hostel-given towels. But, most importantly, there was an honest-to-god toilet in there.

The door leading out creaked open as a familiar gryphon entered, holding two tankards in one talon and a small steaming pot in his beak. He wobbled forward, using his hind leg to close the door.

He put one mug and the pot on my table, before moving to sit at his own bed. I looked at the strange beverage. There was some corn floating at the surface of this dark-yellow tinted liquor.

At seeing my incredulous look, he just winced and said, “Corn ale. The bartender wouldn’t sell me anything better.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t sell you anything better, either. You still look like a child,” I remarked with a smirk, before gracing my parched throat with the beverage, using my teeth to filter the corn out.

It was strange. You know the juice in the cans with salt corn? Take some of the saltiness away, add a tinge of alcohol and some bitterness to it, and you got yourself corn ale.

“Ugh,” I said put the thing away, not quite acquiring the taste for it. “Should’ve just brought some more water. No way am I getting hammered on that.” With that, I ground some leaves given to me by the doctor into the steaming pot.

We settled into a comfortable silence, not really enjoying our drinks but drinking nonetheless. The day came to an end, the window turning into a mirror through the laws of physics.

Overall, I think, it was a very productive, although painful, day.

Chapter 18: The city of a thousand ports

Interlude: Hello, my name is Paul

“You know, I never got your name.” I broke the silence suddenly with my question. Looking at Paul, he seemed a little surprised by my inquiry.

“Paul,” he replied before taking a sip of the corn liquor.

“I meant your real name.”

He seemed to smile at that, giving me a mischievous stare. “That’s my real name now.”

“Oh, come on!” I mockingly threw my hands in the air, like a child begging his mother for one more candy. He just shook his head, clicking his tongue in a sarcastic admonition.

“No, no, no. You’ll have to earn that.” With that, he smiled at me and waggled his feathery eyebrows, inclining the back of his head toward me clearly stating what he meant by “deserve it.”

I sighed, “Dude, I am, like, naked right now. I don’t think now’s the appropriate time.”

Indeed, as I’d mentioned I was quite naked, and would be in my natural state if it weren’t for the large hostel towel around my waist. I’d probably spent about an hour in that shower, taking great care to enjoy every drop of hot water slash tea that graced my sore, dirty body. Now I was squeaky clean, just the way I liked it.

Paul hmm’d, scratching the underside of his beak. Gryphons didn’t really have chins, you know. But they did have quite the fluff on their necks and above their chest, just as feathers turned to fur.

He seemed to have come to the same conclusion as I. “You’re right. But that means no name for you until then.”

I held out my hands, faking a mask of terror. “Oooh, mister mysterious. So... mysterious!”

He deadpanned. “Hahaha. Funny. Doesn’t change the fact that you won’t get a name unless I get some good scratching.”

I just rolled my eyes. “Fine, get over here,” I said, scooting over to the very corner of my bed while patting the place where I’d been sitting. The jovial gryphon’s smile turned into a full-blown grin as he basically jumped across the room over to the indicated spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

With regrets of ever having done this to him, now seeing as I was basically blackmailed to do it, I buried my hand into the dark beige feathers, their ends tipped with brown, at the back of his head. Paul’s eyes turned to heavens in pleasure as he whispered, to whatever god or gods might’ve been listening, “Thank you~u~”

“Thank me,” I grunted and made my way down his back. As I reached the point where his beige feathers turned to dark beige fur, and where his wings coincidentally grew from, he let out a long, deep moan.

“Yeah, no,” I pulled away from him, stomping into the bathroom to wash my hand and forearm. He hadn’t had a shower yet.

“Oh, come on!” It was his turn to yell out in frustration.

“No!” I called out, still in the bathroom. Hearing this, Paul moaned again, but this time not in pleasure. He probably plopped himself on my bed as I heard it creak sorrowfully under his weight. Great, it was probably dirty as hell now.

After feeling clean again, I returned to the room where the muttering gryphon was trying to scratch his back with his claws, and failing miserably.

“So, what about my reward?” I inquired at his silence.

He sighed deeply, before groaning, “It’s Sandquill Astraus.” He seemed to wither a little at the name.

“Sandquill Astraus? It’s, uh… nice, I guess.”

“It’s a horrible name! I mean, Sandquill? What kind of name is that?”

I just sat down on Paul’s bed as he was currently occupying mine. I just shrugged, propping myself with my elbows against my knees. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Another sigh, another groan. “It’s the name dad gave me, and Astraus is my dad’s name. Jack is so much better, though. So is Paul. Anyway, he said he gave it to me because of the pony that had saved his life once. So, he gave me the pony’s name in his saviour’s honor. A pony name isn’t a good thing to have among orthodox gryphons, as it ironically bears no honor, though that is starting to change with more pony culture seeping out of their isolated country.”

I huffed. “It kind of fits, though, as you’re mostly different kinds of beige, which looks quite like sand. And why do you have your father’s name?”

“That’s how gryphons get their names. The first name is their given name, and their second name is their father’s first name. Or mother’s, if you’re a gryphoness.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I replied, not really knowing what else to say.

“But please, please, please, please, call me Paul. Sandquill Astraus is… too long; boring. Just like life back home. However, Paul is just… more exciting, like this whole journey.” By the time he finished, he was already back to his glowing self, arms shamelessly outstretched in a thousand gestures punctuating every word like an excited teen would.

I smiled at his antics, nodding once. “Will do, Paul.”

I could see his beak curl up. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

There was nary but silence.

The tea was hot, but not quite enough to scald my tongue. Hopefully, this herb mix would help with whatever was plaguing my life.

Alright, that was oh so heartwarming. My turn.

‘Your turn’?

Yes. You thought something back out there, the ‘Oh Paul, you have no idea’ thing.

Ah, that. Hoped you’d forget.

You can’t forget it, and thus I cannot either. I have a few tidbits, but I’d really love the whole picture.

You would, wouldn’t you. Fine, if you’ll leave me be then.

So, I remembered back to the village, the search, the fall, and everything thereafter until I woke up in the strangely modern hospital. What was up with the hospital anyway? They had so much ‘modern” stuff, yet these gryphons were still farming with ancient tools, living in homes made by their own hands; still fighting with swords.

Hmm, a most interesting experience. Though I had to laugh at some points. You’re a really lucky person, you know that?

“You’re talking with Dufus again, aren’t you?” Paul said more than asked. I looked at him and smiled.

“How did you know?”

“It shows,” he frowned in reply, and went back to lounging on his bed, the tankard on the nightstand beside him already empty. He still wasn’t happy about Dufus, and probably never would be.

Well, what about you?

What about me?

I don’t know. Name, maybe? Besides the Brown-Underwear-Inducing Name Syndrome you suffer from.

There was a wind whistling through the room, though I couldn’t really feel it, only hear it. Oh, wait, he was sighing again.

As I’d said, I was a normal, living mortal once. A unicorn, actually.

After saying that, he fell silent. Well? I asked.

Well, I’ll tell you more, if you first tell me something about your world. It looks interesting.

But you’ll tell me everything I want to know.

With some reluctance he rumbled, Fine.

Alright, brace yourself, there’s a lot.

One would wonder why I agreed so quickly. The truth was, what would he do with the knowledge? I didn’t know how to build weapons or computers. It’s not like I’d help advance any civilization or give this psychotic entity anything useful. It would only be pictures of things he’d never be able to build.

However, there were still things he didn’t need to know, so I started out slow, showing him some large cities, the buildings climbing high as if they were trying to reach the sky and claim it for themselves. I showed him the bustle and hustle of everyday hectic life. Cars were something he took a great interest in, saying something along the lines of ‘Oh, how easy it would make our lives. Too bad you don’t know how to make them.’

Then I gave him a tour of my house, paying close attention to architecture and more technology. Computers, TV, etc. though all of that only briskly. Just to be sure I still never showed him weapons of any kind. It was hard; trying to not think about something inherently makes you think about it, but luckily there was so much more to think about other than weapons that soon I even forgot about them myself.

We even began discussing the things I brought into the forefront of my thoughts. Like electricity. I didn’t pay much attention in Physics classes, so I couldn’t really explain it all that great, which only lead to a more passionate debate. I explained what we could do with electricity, and Dufus would say how they had magic do that. Magic to this world was basically what gas and electricity was to us. The ponies even supposedly had these factories where unicorns did nothing but feed specially cut crystals with their magical energy, which would then be multiplied by the crystals and sent out into towns nearby. Though that had been mostly replaced by factories built on something called Geysers—places where raw magical energy concentrated into pools.

But a world without magic… I can’t simply comprehend how you can live like that.

You don’t miss what you never tasted.

Yes. However, what I meant was that this world and its inhabitants, we were created by magic. Our souls are made from magic, partially at least. That gives us the powers we have. You humans, on the other hand, you seem to have souls laden with godly essence. Whatever god or gods created you must’ve have been very kind to give piece of themselves to create you. Our maker, whom we incidentally call The Maker, created us using the power of the Void—the source of magic in this world.

Well, I don’t really deal in any of that as an agnostic. Whatever makes people happy I guess and all that jazz.

You don’t believe? You have that godly essence though, which I assume other humans have as well, since I can’t feel anything else that would indicate what you were created from.

I scratched my head at that.

Eh. We have this theory on Earth. That we were created through something called evolution. Basically, what it means is that we evolved through complex means from the most basic of organisms over a really long-ass period of time. Maybe that’s why we supposedly have this god essence within us? Maybe it’s because we, like, created ourselves?

Dufus spat, Nonsense. You don’t create something from nothing. For some irrational reason, his answer really infuriated me.

By that logic everything has a beginning, that means even gods have a beginning. If they, however, created everything, then where do gods begin? What created them? And what created those who or what created gods? I could go on and on.

That’s all beyond a mortal’s comprehension, and we should not trouble ourselves with answers we can’t reach, much less comprehend. Besides, I could just as well argument that even if you evolved from something, the something still had to come from somewhere. However, let us end this unsolvable debate and rest for the night, just like your friend.

I looked at Paul, now seeing for the first time that he was already soundly asleep. Maybe I should’ve followed wake. Be that as it may, I had more questions.

Not yet. What’s your real name?

You really want to know everything, eh? Alright. Born and raised a Clover Field, though I had nothing in common with my name. My parents used to say their reasoning behind my name was the clover field behind our house, where clovers grew bunched together so thick you could practically roll in them as if on a bed, and do interesting things. Interesting, ecstatic things. Things like rolling around with your soulmate–

Fine, I get it. You were conceived on that god damned field.

You asked.

I asked what your name was, not where your parents made children.

Well, it wasn’t the only place. There was also the–

Please, no. I already had a foreign sex education back at Paul’s village thanks to his frisky parents.

Dufus laughed so hard he almost made me piss myself from laughter for him.

Oh, I’ve never seen someone as flexible in bed as her! And I’ve seen a lot more than you can imagine.

Oh damn, didn’t catch the image quite fast enough to let that moment of privacy stay private.

Dufus hmm’d at that. Yes, that could present a problem to you in the future. The thing is, it could be a problem for me, too. Your mind is quite fragile, and easily invadable by powers beyond your imagination. The only thing protecting you is how unique your mind is and me. I can do a lot of things to protect us from mind attacks, but there’s only so much I can do. You know what? I’ll train you later to create a fortress out of this shack you call your brain.

That’s… nice, I guess.

Yes, very nice. Now get some sleep finally, I am getting very tired myself. Unless you have more questions?

No, we’ll continue tomorrow.

I drank up the rest of the tea before paying a quick visit to the bathroom. We didn’t have any of those special herbs to clean my teeth, which could pose a problem in the future. Aching teeth were really annoying.

I went to the bathroom anyway, to at least rinse my mouth with water. There I almost stumbled across the pile of dirty clothes that survived the mountain assault. Not really feeling like walking around in dirty rags all day long, I made myself fill up the bathtub with water and throw the clothes in there. Using soap I washed it all the old way by scrubbing and rubbing. Once they were as clean as my bare hands could get them, I released the cap holding the water in and threw the wet clothes over the bathtub rim.

After all was said and done, I double checked that the door and window were locked before making my way over to the bed not claimed by the mighty gryphon, where I soon continued the blissful dreams of home and siblinghood.

Waking up is hard. Unless there’s someone screaming bloody murder and throwing burning poisoned knives at you, the human body has a tendency to take a couple of minutes to boot up. So, when you wake up in an unfamiliar place or hugging something or someone that shouldn’t be there, the brain often deems it a companion and makes you hug it. However, common sense soon takes over for those who have it and shit hits the fan.

“Paul, what are you doing in my bed?” Before I even realized what I was saying, I shot out of the bed in alarm, swatting his wing aside and falling out of the soft confines of forgotten dreams onto the hard floor of reality.

“Whaza?” He shook, throwing his head around in daze as I made love to the rough boards.

“God dammit Paul,” I groaned, rolling over onto my back whilst holding the spot of the growing pain on my forehead.

Paul looked over the bed and the pile of blanket where I used to be, batting his eyes from sleepiness. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay, Paul?” I barked at him. The suffering my head had to endure right now wasn’t making me a nice person. The infuriating gryphon, first a little apprehensive, but once seeing that I was in fact better than I claimed to be, gave me a smirk. “You look quite fine.”

After cooling down, maybe in part thanks to the cold floor, I closed my eyes and said, “Sorry. Yes, I guess I am okay.”

Paul suddenly ehm’d´. Immediately opening my eyes, I saw that he was also blushing slightly whilst raising an eyebrow at me. Suddenly I felt very naked and dirty. Maybe the reason was because I was actually butt naked and dirty because the gryphon didn’t quite bathe last night. A piece of towel made itself known from under the blanket as if out of no where. Of course, my clothes were drying in the bathroom and I fell asleep wearing nary but the towel.

I yanked it off and slowly got up, Paul staring at me the entire time.

“Could you maybe not stare at my dong, Paul? It’s making me uncomfortable.” I said while levering a ‘Stop it bro’ look at him.

“It’s so… small.” He whispered in astonishment, though if real or fake I couldn’t tell. Laughter erupted somewhere in the deep reaches of my mind.

I was going to need a long cold shower as most of my body now suffered a third-degree burn. “F-fuck off,” I stammered and threw the towel into that bird mug of his, then promptly stormed off into the bathroom where I spent the next half an hour in silent misery.

After taking another shower, I dressed up into the naturally still wet clothes. Wearing them like that was quite uncomfortable, but necessary. Whatever, it was summer and the days were hot and sunny. A few minutes in the sun would dry them up.

Walking out of the bathroom, my gryphon friend was still hiccuping from prolonged laughter. Once seeing me, though, he immediately wiped the smile off his face – or at least tried, that is – and started, “Peter, I am so, so-”

“It never happened, Paul,” I interrupted him for good measure before going over to the bed and retrieving the towel. I neatly folded it up onto the nearest night stand, then made up the empty bed where Paul had slept for who knows how long before transitioning over to where I slept.

“How did we even fit in there? And what were you doing sleeping with me again, anyway?”

I asked while folding the blanket. It was the hostel’s property, but...

No, no stealing Peter. You didn’t fall that low.

Yet.

Ignoring the unsettling chill running down my spine, I turned to Paul. He looked away.

“Well?”

The gryphon looked up at me, though still averting his eyes. “I couldn’t fall asleep.”

I smiled at that, but still shook my head. “I am not your teddy bear.”

“Teddy bear?” He asked incredulous.

“Doesn’t matter. Why couldn’t you? What’s wrong?”

He hung his head low, now looking at his talons while fiddling with them. “I… I really miss them, Peter.”

My heart broke. He really did sound miserable. I walked over and sat next to him, patting him on the shoulder. Then I got an idea.

Yes, I noticed what looked like a postal office when we entered the town, Dufus decided to chirp in.

Great!

“I know what you should do. You should write a letter home. I noticed what looked like a post office when we entered this town. You know what, it’s a really great idea one way or another. They’re probably really worried since you ran off on them.”

Paul looked up at that sharply and asked with unbridled fear, “How do you know?” What, was he thinking I was about to send him back? Would he listen anyway?

With a knowing smile I answered, “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.” Then that smile turned serious. “Do they even know you went with me?”

He immediately nodded. “I left them a message.”

“Well, maybe you should send them a new one, don’t you think?”

Again, though after a moment, he nodded.

“It’s settled then, let’s get out of here.”

After packing up and getting a light breakfast that left us with almost no money whatsoever, we found ourselves on the sunny streets again. I took a deep breath, the smell of unwashed bodies filling my lungs. The sun was shining its damned scorching melody and hybrid birds walked and flew everywhere as far as the eye could see.

It was a beautiful day.

Chapter 19: Tactical retreat

Chapter 18: The city of a thousand ports

Five minutes, zero letters.

“I don’t know how to begin,” he groaned.

We currently occupied some of the small chairs and a table in the post office. They had writing utensils and paper to borrow, which was just perfect since we didn’t have any of that. It came with a fee, of course.

“Maybe start with how sorry you are? Or just, you know, ‘Hello, I am fine, don’t worry’? Though given the state of this world they may have much to fear. Hmm.”

He scribbled something. It read: ‘Dear mom and dad,’.

“Look, just write everything you feel. The order doesn’t matter as long as it’s there,” I advised and stopped looking at him write in hopes of making him less nervous.

Paul took a deep breath, put the tip of his quill onto the paper, closed his eyes, and as he let his breath out he scribbled. He peeked with one eye at whatever he wrote, then groaned. One dip into the inkpot later and the gryphon was trying his ritual again, this time with more success. Soon enough the quill was dancing over the empty page.

“Now we’re officially broke.” I flipped the last talon we had. It’d buy us a piece of bread or whatever substitute these gryphons had. Thus we had no money to buy me anything, not even a bag. But I guess Paul did save my blankets, food could be hunted, and water could be shared.

Paul jovially landed beside me after doing a flip in the air. He seemed to move with such caress now as if a great weight fell from his shoulders. He smiled and intoned with a wink, “Worth it.”

I smiled back and pocketed the coin.

There wasn’t much for us in this village. Even if we found some boring-ass job, like sweeping floors for example, I don’t think it would help us much. What we’d earn would soon be spent on more food, drink, and lodging. No, there was nothing else for us in this village. Peace of the road was what we wanted, and sought it we did.

There was no fanfare as we left the village. No heads turned, only the guards that returned us our weapons and walked us out… well, to be fair, they had only Paul’s cleaver-axe, since my weapon got lost down in the rat pits.

Otherwise, we were just another pair of travellers, another pair of lost souls seeking thrill and death in a world very much generous in both regards it seemed.

That was pretty much it, really.

Living wasn’t so easy now that we didn’t have money. When water ran out, it had to be boiled from the nearby streams. Well, boiled for me at least, Paul didn’t seem to be affected by whatever could’ve been swimming in the water, parasites or bacteria. Gryphon stomach was an unmerciful beast.

Food had to be hunted, and again, boiled or roasted. Paul prefered it cooked, too, so each night we would build a large fire that could cook a few animals at the same time and throughout the next day we’d eat the leftovers. We tried to also keep the skins if we didn’t botch up the skinning part, as they could be sold in villages for some penny.

Of course, such large fires would sometimes attract attention.

One time a weary traveler came looking for a shelter. We heard the cracking before we heard the voice.

“Would there be place for a roadwalker?” He asked in a gruff voice, the kind which comes with traveling a lot where you don’t speak because you don’t have anyone to speak to.

The three rabbits and a pheasant – two rabbits for me, the pheasant and a rabbit for Paul – were already in the final stages of their preparation, while water was already being cooled off in a small hand cauldron that Paul had bought after selling some skins.

My mouth was already hurting from how much I clenched it in anticipation of the crispy goodness slowly glistening over the flames. The lack of salt or any spices hurt somewhat, though.

Paul and I looked at each other. There was enough food and water to be shared and we kept guard during the night anyway. Plus we knew the hardships of the road; it would be cruel for us to refuse someone in a similar situation as us.

“Come, sit,” I inquired to the shadows of the forest. Blinded by the campfire light, I couldn’t see the person behind the voice at first.

The figure came into the light, and I almost jumped back in fright.

Whatever it was, it didn’t look… natural. What looked like a ‘he’ towered over us, and if I had to guess was half my body higher than me. He wore patchy clothes over lean and muscular frame, behind which two great folded wings rested against his back. Head, body, and legs of a dog; arms, hands, and feet that of a dragon; a pair of horns running from the top of his head in waves, and sharp teeth, wicked and deadly, gleamed as he spoke. Truly the image of fright incarnate.

“A hybrid,” Paul hissed.

The strange being slowly sat down by the campfire, still easily towering above us, and spoke, “You say it like a curse.” He didn’t seem offended in the least.

Paul jerked back as if slapped. “Sorry, father taught me better.”

The creature in question gave an easy smile in reply. “Your father is good people.” The earth seemed to rumble beneath his deep baritone.

Beware. Hybrids are normally shy and afraid of others. But this one… he’s confident and in no way afraid. I’d advise caution.

I wouldn’t be afraid either if I was his size.

“Forgive my asking, but who or what are you?” I asked really slowly trying not to piss him off. I doubt either of us could do anything against him if he decided to taste some exotic flesh.

“A mistake to the world, a treasure to my parents – the latter is what matters,” he answered while putting down his own backpack beside him. He didn’t have to say anything else. I think it was pretty obvious that he was the love child of two very different species, and that he didn’t seem popular with others. How did the whole parent stuff work, anyway? No idea, but I guess even gryphons had to come from somewhere.

Gryphons are practically hybrids themselves, yet they consider other hybrids abominations. Never has there been a larger example of hypocrisy that this. I’ll also have to explain the cross-species thing to you sometime.

I nodded to that absentmindedly, though to others it looked as if I was confirming what the hybrid had said.

The food was done. I went about the business of getting the food out and distributing it among us. While doing so, we talked.

I began. “Where do you hail from, and where is your destination, if I might be so bold to ask?”

He nodded a thanks as I handed him a rabbit. “The city of a thousand ports is the place at my back, and the land of ponies is what my eyes hunger for,” he said and ate. “Where does your road carry you, wanderers?” He darted his eyes slowly between us.

I let my rabbit cool off, so in the meantime I just answered the question. Paul was already nibbling on his pheasant—carefully to not burn himself. The traveller had no such reservations, instead simply eating with sophisticated gusto.

“The capital city. The mountain roads are infested with diamond dog bandits. We have to go around.”

“Ah. What do you seek there?” he inquired after a moment of silence.

“Clues, I guess. Trying to find something… someone,” I don’t know what it was, but something about his demeanor, his visage – whilst terrifying, still somehow friendly – made me want to run my mouth off, to confess my sins and transgressions. He just had that kind of aura about him.

The traveller didn’t need to ask the obvious question.

“I’m trying – well, Paul here and I – we’re trying to find my little brother.”

The stranger finished; only a greasy, chewed stick remained. Not even bones were left. He threw the stick into the fire where it sizzled before succumbing to the fiery touch.

“A laudable, if sad task. May you find him soon and well. I myself don’t have a kin, thus I can’t relate to your anguish. What I can relate to, however, is our uniqueness. I’ve been travelling for many a year, but never have I seen someone such as you.”

“That’s probably because I am not from around here.”

He shot me an amused look.

“And by around here I mean I’m from a different… planet or dimension. I don’t know. Just… not from this world.”

“An outlander? Now I’ve seen everything,” he chuckled with silent joy.

“What? Do you know more humans?”

“If by ‘humans’ you mean members of your species, then no. But I’ve heard of creatures claiming to be from different worlds. So far you seem to support your claim with your, how shall I put it, ‘anotherness’. Truly a delight to see such a rare occasion with my very own eyes.”

“That’s great I guess,” I mumbled and went on to eating my own dinner.

Our guest leaned forward into the flames to look at me more closely. He didn’t seem perturbed by the heat the giant campfire gave off and would’ve normally melted the face of anyone normal this close to itself.

“Tell me, outlander, how did you come to this world?” There was a twinkle in his eye that shone more brightly than the mirrored image of our campfire.

I chewed for a few seconds before answering. With a slight hesitation, I recalled the beginning of this whole journey.

“I was sleeping when I woke up to some noise. There were these huge bangs which threw me to my feet. My brother, who slept with me in the same room that night, was gone. The lights didn’t work, either, but I had a flashlight. That’s like a lantern, I guess. So, I immediately went downstairs and checked every room. Now that I remember, there was this distinctive coldness to the bathroom area, but thought nothing of it at the time.” I took another bite, trying to fight the rising dread.

The half-dragon, half-dog listened intensely, and when seeing that I wouldn’t continue until I ate some more, inquired, “The cold can be explained by a teleportation spell. It always creates patches of cold in the vicinity of the spell’s location and destination.”

Nodding and having finished, my mind continued to conjure the most unforgettable, strangest, and horrible few minutes of my life.

“Then I arrived at the living room, which was filled with this thick, semi-solid, purple, almost pink cloud of… something. Can’t really describe it. A hand reached out of this mist, unmistakably my brother’s, so I tried to go after him, but it was like trying to move while fully submerged in water. Suddenly however it was over and I found my brother in the middle of the room. We tried to get out but where once a hallway leading to different rooms was, now was nothing but a vast expanse of purple vortex. The room started falling apart, piece by piece falling into that damned void. In the end, my brother fell through a crack in the floor straight into the vortex abyss.”

The words dried up upon my tongue.

“I was too shocked, acted too late. I couldn’t save him as he fell and wailed my name.”

I felt a wing tenderly wrap around me as I hung my head low, trying to hide the bitter tears gathering in my eyes.

Blissful silence fell upon our camp like a blanket cloaking my sorrow, and with it some sense of finality.

“T-there’s more,” I hiccuped before the stranger or Paul could say a word, and I raised my head to look into the flames. “Once my brother was swallowed by the vortex, some invisible force started pushing me back to the door leading out of the room, where I could see the image of our undisturbed house. It didn’t want me.”

I could see him shift behind the flames.

“But I fought, and in the end it flinched me high up into the sky, then I blacked out.”

The creature’s voice rumbled with thought, “Your brother was targeted? Not a mistake in the world then, but a teleportation spell surely. If you landed in this world, then your brother must be here too, and I would bet my two horns that he landed wherever the spell originated.”

“That doesn’t really help us much, though.”

He huffed. “It might not, but your best bet would still be to venture to the pony lands. There are, indeed, great magicians throughout entire spectrum of sapient species dotting the entire world – even though many ponies would argue that unicorns are the only ones capable of magic – some of the greatest spellcasters still come from the pony lands.”

“We’re already going to Vanground though,” Paul, silent for almost the entire conversation, suddenly spoke up.

“Indeed,” I continued, “We found a merchant who sold us a picture that had a drawn portrait of an unmistakably human boy. She got it in the capital city, Vanground.

The wanderer nodded. “That’s as good a lead as any. But if you do decide to go to pony lands, beware their hostility. They distrust all that is not like them.” He suddenly got up. I was compelled by his height to stand up, but my legs were suddenly like lead. Looking at Paul he seemed to have the same problem.

“Thank you for your hospitality, travellers, but it is my time to depart as I travel strictly at night.”

“W-what’s happening,” Paul voiced my thoughts precisely. The creature looked me straight in the eyes.

“Lay your burdens down.”

All strength left me, and I couldn’t help but fall backward onto the soft ground. Though out of my sight now, his voice still ringed through the dead of night.

“If you find yourself alone and surrounded by enemies, human, travel west to the forgotten desert of Imeoth; there you will be among friends. But rest now your troubled mind, outlander, a long road lies ahead of you I’d wager. Both of you.”

“Who are you,” I managed to whisper before even that was too much of a task. In the end, even my eyes closed because keeping them open was too much effort.

“They call us collectors. Inevitably, you’ll hear more of us soon enough.”

I woke up and it didn’t hurt. No strange tears to accompany the forgotten dreams streamed down my face. For one morning, I was free.

Finally a night where I didn’t have to share in your misery.

“What happened?”

I opened my eyes and sat up. Even though the ground served as my bed, my back and head didn’t hurt. Somehow, I was also covered by my blanket. The cracking of a campfire still going strong – even though it was morning and Paul slept beside me – interrupted my thoughts. How was that possible? The fire should’ve gone out a while ago.

He used a mind trick and some magic to put you and Paul to sleep, then he watched over you deep into the night.

Wait, didn’t you say you’d protect me from mind attacks?

Well, yeah. But he was only trying to help.

You couldn’t have known that!

I could, actually. I speculated who he was halfway through your conversation. Collectors are the opposite of what you might expect of them.

Why didn’t you say anything, then?

You might not realize, but you have these quirks that make it apparent you’re listening to someone or something. I didn’t want to alert him to my presence. Bad things could’ve have happened if I did.

Still…

Relax, I would’ve woken you up if he was going to hurt you.

Fine.

Paul was still sound asleep beside me. He was covered under a blanket, too. I immediately threw mine aside and went on to check our equipment. Paul’s backpack seemed to be intact except for the blankets, his weapon was alright. The only thing missing was the second rabbit intended for me.

Strangely, I wasn’t even hungry.

My gryphon friend began to stir before frantically throwing his blanket aside in panic. After seeing me and the lack of any danger, he calmed down somewhat.

“What happened?” He squawked.

I explained what I knew.

“Collectors? Never heard of them.”

You lived in a backwards village in the middle of nowhere, you wouldn’t know ponies from zebras!

Shh, only I can hear you and it’s annoying. Also, you seem to know something about these collectors. Might initiating me into that secret knowledge?

No need to be prudent about it. Simply put, they’re a not-so-secret secret society akin to bounty hunters, except they don’t hunt to kill, they hunt to protect. Their members consist mostly of outcasts and hybrids who travel the world in search of unique and endangered species, like hybrids, since everyone hates hybrids. Anyway, they try to preserve these creatures in their haven far to the west. That’s the legend, anyway. As with many such ‘secret’ societies, many have heard of them, but most don’t believe they exist.

I relayed the information to Paul.

“Huh, they don’t sound so bad.”

They can be if you interfere in their cause. Most fanatics are that way.

We didn’t waste more time with questions. It was late into the morning, and the sooner we hit the road the farther we would get. With that in mind, the fire was soon extinguished, the pack was packed, and soon enough the road crunched beneath our feet again.

The traffic got gradually worse as we neared the port city which lay somewhere between the mountains and the see. But nothing could’ve prepared me as Paul and I climbed a small hill to get a slight view over the land.

The city took my breath away. Sprawling from the beaches to the mountains themselves, it looked like a dark blotch of ink upon the land. There were spirals, massive buildings, districts that looked like nothing else but roofs upon roofs; all of that bordered by lavish looking mansions and from the outside by farms.

According to the map, we were still probably half a day of walking away.

“The city of a thousand ports indeed.” I recalled what the collector had said. It made sense now. Ships of all sizes and types swarmed the coastline, but through them I couldn’t even see the piers.

Oh, also forgot to mention the huge-ass wall surrounding the entire city and even going some ways into the sea where the two walls ended in massive towers.

It was already getting dark, no point in continuing into the extensive farmland if we could just camp in the forest we just emerged from a few minutes ago. So we ventured about fifteen minutes into its depths before settling down.

The next morning and half of afternoon were spent walking a wide beat road leading to the city gates through the farmlands. The traffic suddenly spiked when we arrived at a junction where another road leading south connected to ours. Bodies of beings of all sizes and shapes shuffled back and forth, some trailing carts or carriages behind them. Naturally, we assimilated into the strange crowd.

In the later afternoon we arrived at a massive stone gate with a pair of iron grates pulled up high. There the whole line slowed down a little, some travellers being subjected to what seemed like random checkups of their cargo or of themselves.

Even with the packed up space, it was great to be there. After walking in the sun all day, the gate’s shade was a welcome touch on my slightly sun-burned skin.

We were just passing about a dozen guards of different species packed into heavy armor, when one of them grabbed me and pulled me aside from the traffic. Paul, noticing that, quickly trailed behind me.

“Halt!” A definitely masculine voice yelled into my face from beneath the massive armor. Couldn’t tell what it was, but it seemed to be some kind of quadrupled that was slightly higher than other quadrupeds around.

“I’ve never seen your like before. Scribe, come here!” He turned around at a unicorn writing some notes about some traveller’s cargo. The unicorn, modestly clothed into nothing but some lightweight looking robes and a pair of backs slung over his back, trotted over to us.

“What’s going on?” Paul asked the guard.

“Just a checkup on your… friend I presume?”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“No, sir. Now please stand aside so the scribe can do his thing.”

At long last, the unicorn graced us with his presence “What is it?”

“Have you seen anyone like this before?”

The unicorn looked at me scrutinizingly, quite unfazed by the fact that I was twice his height.

“No,” he said at last, quickly levitating some papers around, and dipping his quill into a floating inkpot nearby, the scribe continued, “Identify your species, traveller.”

He looked at me expectantly.

Play along. Seems like he just writes down all the species that enter or leave the city.

“Ummm,” I began still somewhat dazed by the whole ordeal. “Human.”

“Could you spell that?”

“H-U-M-A-N. Human.”

After scribbling some more, the unicorn asked, “Any special characteristics?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes as if he was not getting paid enough for this bullshit. “Do you breathe fire? Are you immortal? Exceptional regeneration? Absolute resistances? Blood-drinker? Natural magician? Et cetera, et cetera.”

Well, I had to think a bit about that. Sadly, there wasn’t really much I could think of.

“Omnivore, no magic, no exceptional regenerations, not immortal. Well, there’s really nothing special. The only thing being hands, I guess.”

I wiggled my fingers at him and rotating the whole hand around. “Really great for grabbing stuff.” A nervous giggle bubbled in my throat.

Another eye-roll, then some more writing.

“Now stand still,” the unicorn commanded as his horn burst into light, which soon appeared as a semi-transparent aura around me.

He’s scanning your body. Shouldn’t be able to find me.

A few seconds later it was gone, his horn still glowed though.

“Is it typical for members of your species to live in a symbiotic relationship with other beings within the same body?”

Yes! “No,” I said at the same time as Dufus yelled out his own reply.

Idiot!

“Grab him,” he said and nonchalantly waved his hoof at me.

“Wait, what?” I managed to ask before I was grabbed by two ninja guards appearing as if out of nowhere.

“And the gryphon too.”

“What?” Paul managed to ask before they apprehended him too.

Don’t struggle, you’ll make it worse.

Then they shoved a bag over my head, and the world was nothing but darkness once again.

Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part I.

Chapter 19: Tactical retreat

I don’t really know how long it took. While floating when blinded one quickly loses the perception of time and space. I didn’t really even care anymore. I was too tired to deal with this world’s bullshit. But still, with the whole floating thing, my fear of heights soon started to kick in. When I started screaming in terror whenever the altitude seemed to change, they forcibly shut my mouth so I was unable to move it.

My bottom hit something hard that felt like a chair, and I immediately tried to cling to it as much as I could. Sadly, my hands and legs were still bound with what I presumed was magic since I didn’t feel anything tangible holding them bound.

Then my right arm was suddenly forced upward. The bracelet was being tugged on. There was some mumbling between several people accompanying it, but it didn’t seem like Dufus deemed it important enough to translate.

Hold on, I’ll sort this out.

Then the connection with Dufus was lost as the bracelet seemed to give in to the pressure and slipped out.

There was only one voice speaking now. It was distorted into nothing but mumbling by the bag over my head. In the end, silence fell and the people who took us seemed to hold their breath in expectation. Where the hell was Paul anyway? I didn’t hear him since they ‘arrested’ us.

Then the screaming started.

It was a silent wail at first, like a child that bumped his head and wasn’t sure what to do, so it just went to its default modus operandi and decided to cry out. That’s how I’d describe the high-pitched scream as it rose in volume. It made my ears bleed in pain. It also made my heart race in fear. What the hell was going on?

Another shriek joined the first one, then someone else pitched into the chorus of screeches. Soon the whole room was filled with cacophony of wails of tortured beings. The cries were shortly accompanied with sickening crunches and splashing sounds, and lastly silence.

The walls echoed their torture even after the heavy stench of death and silence filled the room. Was this Dufus’ work?

A few clip-clops sounded against stone, growing in strength as what was probably the sole survivor came closer to me.

“It is over,” a distorted voice sounded right next to my ear, making me flinch hard.

“What?” I stammered out.

In answer the binds holding me in place suddenly were no more. I quickly tugged the bag off my head almost tearing my coconut off in the process. The world of stone and light welcomed me back into the world of seeing. Though even the torch-light was a little too strong after a while in darkness, so I had to let my eyes rest and adjust before beholding the room and the being that let me free.

The room was a classic interrogation room. Stone walls, one table and two chairs. I was sitting in one of them. However, what wasn’t probably typical to this room were the pools of blood, bodies torn apart in every way imaginable, and pieces of armor and weapons lying about among the remnants of once living beings.

What the fuck.

As I observed this butcher's room, my sight inevitably fell on the pristine-clean lone unicorn. It was the scribe, and there was a circlet on his right foreleg. It resembled roots growing around each other.

“Dufus?” I asked the frozen-still scribe.

He nodded.

“You… you did all of this?” I squeaked out and flailed my arms around to point to the massacred creatures littering the room.

He nodded again, but this time with a smirk. “There’s a reason why the ratlings worshiped me. And a reason why we got out.”

I felt my face drain out of color. That seemed to make him even more joyful as he continued, “What? Did you think I sang the ratlings a lullaby and they let us out? You know better than that. And I know you know.”

I stood up shakingly while having to hold onto the table to not let my knees fold under me. I stared at him for a second before asking, “But how?”

His grin fell with sadness. “Ambitious idiot lacking any personality or goodness. Oh, if you could only hear him crying like a little child inside my head.” Dufus looked upwards as if in reverence.

“Holy shit,” I whispered under my breath.

“You don’t look too good. Let’s get out of this sewage before you dirty my new body with bile,” he said and turned to a single, heavy-looking wooden door. With a flash of light the door shattered, only two pieces of plank hanging from the hinges remained.

“Take care. You wouldn’t want to get a splinter, now would you?” He laughed and trotted with his hard hooves over the door remnants.

“Wait! Where’s Paul?” I ran after him.

“In a different interrogation room,” Dufus said and picked a few bigger, sharp-looking pieces of wood with his magic.

We entered a hall that led to stairs leading upwards. There were two doors, including the one Dufus just destroyed, and what looked like cells built into the walls by both sides of the wall leading to the stairs. The cells were separated from the hall by bars, so the prisoners at both sides could see each other. Iron doors were set into the bars.

The door to what I presumed was the second interrogation room suddenly opened, a gryphon in armor and bearing a sword walked out, yelling, “What in the feathery ass is going on?”

A piece of wood through his eye put him down quickly. Commotion broke out in the interrogation room as their inhabitants must’ve noticed their now quite dead comrade. With Dufus out of my head, I had no idea what they were yelling in there.

The possessed scribe calmly stepped to the door, but still out of sight of whomever was inside, and quickly levitated a piece of wood to the entrance. An axe as big as my chest appeared so quickly I almost didn’t notice it. The axe cut the piece of wood in half and rammed itself into the dead body where it became stuck.

Dufus quickly jumped into the doorway and shot five pieces of wood inside. Two voices yelled out. Quickly unjamming the axe with his magic, he levitated it in front of himself, then jumped inside. A short fight later, he emerged still clean from what I assumed was another slaughter. Shortly after him, a bloodied gryphon stepped around him somewhat shocked. That, however, he got quickly over as he saw me.

“Peter!” He yelled out and said something more.

“He asks if you are hurt.”

“No.” I answered in Balderdash, the language once again just as unfamiliar as when I started. It was hard to admit how dependant I’ve become on Dufus’ translations.

“Please tell him that I can’t understand him now that you’re not in my head.”

Dufus relayed the information to Paul. Hopefully. The gryphon nodded at me.

“Come, Peter. We have to get out before more ‘guards’ arrive.”

“What’s with the sarcastic ‘guards’?” I asked and followed him and Paul out.

“Some were real, some were just slavers in disguise that infiltrated the local guard.”

“Ah.”

We marched through the hall, pleading hands and arms of different creatures reaching out through the bars. We didn’t stop, we didn’t look, we only went up the stairs through another heavy looking door that probably blocked out the sound of yelling prisoners, and into a room where three guards were playing a game I wasn’t familiar with. They were out of their armor, and their weapons sat beside their chairs. The lazy guards looked at us with surprise. One asked something using a single word.

Dufus gave them a single-worded answer and with a flash of light their heads fucking exploded. Bits of brains and skulls became the new wall decoration. My respect for Dufus suddenly grew in spades.

“What did you tell them?ˇ” I whispered in the sudden silence.

Nonchalantly, he broke the stillness, “Perish.” With that he walked over to one of the closets dotting the walls of the room. Inside were all our things, which Paul took handily. I didn’t take anything, since I didn’t have anything. Sad face. But then a sudden thought dawned on me.

“Is there anything else we could use in any of these closets?” I asked Dufus. He had this scribe’s memories available, and surely the scribe would have at least a mental inventory of the confiscated things.

“My, my, Peter. But that’s stealing,” He said smugly, and soon with a glow, all the closets and chests opened, inviting me to partake of the glory hidden inside them.

“If it helps me find my brother, I don’t care,” I said and walked around the room to the different closets to see if there was anything useful around here.

“Paul isn’t very happy,” Dufus announced, and looking at Paul he really didn’t seem happy.

“Tell him it’s for the best or something.” With that, I returned to my scavenging.

And oh, was it something. There were different weapons, clothes for all kinds of beings, satchels and bags filled with both ordinary and strange things, and sometimes there was money hidden in pockets that the guard probably didn’t find.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time before guard exchange.”

“Well, what would you pick?”

“Pick a bag and empty it, I’ll find something.”

I quickly found a backpack with a single strap that I could use. Dufus quickly levitated some things from different closets and shoved them into the bag.

“What’s in there?” I asked and looked inside.

“I’ll explain later, now we have to move out. I’ll try to get us to the armory where we can hopefully get us some armor to blend in with the guard. Let’s go.”

I strapped the bag over my chest. Dufus opened the only other door in the room, and we followed in. Upon moving into the hallway, we stopped.

A large quadrupled in heavy armor with bull horns sticking out from under a full-faced helmet yelled something. He obviously was the captain or something similar, as about fifteen soldiers moved into position in front of him, some kneeling, some standing above those kneeling. They blocked the entire hallway, and thus our way out.

Two unicorns donning elaborate, light looking armor pushed through the rank to the forefront, where with confidence they got into battle positions, their horns aimed at Dufus.

The possessed unicorn in question cackled at the two battlemages, saying something between his bouts of malicious laughter. I was almost facepalming at the obvious trying to look evil.

The enemy casters looked at each other, then began discussing something with Dufus who still had a creepy smile painted on his face. They talked like that for what seemed to be ages.

“You should get back. You don’t want to get into the crossfire,” he said, not taking his eyes off the two bastards.

“Paul,” I said and started to move backwards, Paul following me. With a yelp I bumped into the doorway before adjusting my course onto the right track.

Both of the unicorns’ horns suddenly filled the hallway with different shades of light. Paul and I quickly jumped the rest of the way inside, Paul slamming the door closed as all hell broke loose in the hall.

We quickly ran further into the prison, slamming the soundproofed door behind us too, then quickly moving to the end of the corridor of prison cells. Suddenly, we heard an explosion that shook the ground and destroyed even the heavy door leading out of the prison, a bout of flame licking the ceiling following behind.

Even from here we could see the room outside was awash in flames. This whole place was going to burn down. Even though most of the prison was made of stone, there were still wooden beams perhaps holding the roof, or maybe just for decoration, but they were there, and it would make hell of the prison.

Paul was already carrying a keyring taken from one of the downed guards. As he was trying to unlock the first cell by trying every key in possible, I stopped his claw with my hand, gripping him as hard as I could.

These prisoners were there for a reason. They looked frightened and pleading now, but the moment the cell doors opened, they could easily overpower us and kill us. We weren’t warriors. But they probably were. The closets full of confiscated things were filled of armor and weapons. These weren’t just some poor bastards stealing bread. God forbid if any of the wielded magic.

Anger like hot iron laced through my heart.

If I died, who would save Michael? Who would find and help my lost little brother? No one. He was alone, and I was the only one that could help him. No one else knew him. He only had me.

He only had me.

“Why, Paul? Why do you try to save everyone? You’re a gryphon, a creature of war from what I saw for God’s sake! Would you endanger us and our mission for some scum? You would place the lives of these creatures before my brother’s?!” By the end of it, I was screaming so hard that spit flew everywhere. My heart rammed its war melody in my chest, making me heave with deep but fast breaths.

His determination wavered as he looked at me. No, there was no more determination there. Only hurt, disbelief and sadness. He didn’t understand me, couldn’t, but something must’ve gone across. I let go of his arm which he let fall beside him. The keyring rattled against the stone floor as he let go of it.

“We must go,” he whispered, defeated as his will left him. With head hung low, he walked back toward the burning guard room.

I couldn’t believe myself. No, I could, but didn’t want to.

It was necessary, I kept reassuring myself as I picked up the keyring, preparing myself to throw salvation out of the prisoners’ reach, to condemn them to burn, to assure myself they wouldn’t follow us, that they wouldn’t try to stop us, exact vengeance on us for not helping them; it was necessary.

I looked up, into the prison cell in front of me. Unlike most other prisoners, he wasn’t begging or pleading. He was just sitting there, content or perhaps not caring for what was happening around him. He was a gryphon, but he had no wings.

I threw the keys into his cell, then turned around and walked away. Live, if you decide so. Let others live, if it is your will. Their fate was no longer in my hands, and it was a relief that eased the pain of my aching chest.

Place your problems on someone else, that’s what you always did best. The thought fluttered through my mind like a gentle butterfly that didn’t condemn, only reminded. Reminded me of who I always was, and who I would always be.

“I’ve changed.”

Paul was silent as we quickly ran through the burning room and into the hallway where nothing but charred bits and pieces remained. From the ashes of one corpse I thought belonged to the scribe I dug out Dufus’ bracelet and put it on.

Burning oneself to death is not fun.

I don’t imagine it ever could be.

The fools didn’t expect me to sacrifice myself to kill them all. Well, sacrifice the scribe’s body to be precise. When their guard was down—Boom! Hahahaha! Now go, forget about the armory if you don’t want to burn down.

The heat started to grow into unbearable heights, so we quickly moved through the hall and up more stairs, which led us into some kind of fore-room where a few frantic guards were rattling their mouths at each other. They stopped as we entered.

Tell them this: Fire broke out in the lower dungeon. Evacuate the premises and start bringing in water if you don’t want this whole place to burn down.

I put on my best commanding voice and yelled out what Dufus was whispering in my mind. The guards just stood and listened.

Now!

“Now!” I yelled and they started moving about, some going back the way we came, some going outside. One, however, decided that he’d rather apprehend escaping prisoners in a burning building than do whatever he could to survive. He was a cat-like person, basically like a diamond dog, except a cat.

“You’re a prisoner, and under the law you are not to leave this prison.”

He’s a slaver. Threaten him.

“And you are a slaver piece of shit that’s gonna get his ass handed to him by his officers if you don’t get out of our way!”

He was smaller than me, most creatures seemed to be that way in this world. He was taken aback, maybe by the way I talked to him, maybe he was surprised by the fact that I knew he was a slaver. Whatever it was, he was paralyzed enough that we just shoved him aside and ran past him. We moved out through the large door into the great wide city.

It was early into the night. Somehow, we seemed to have spent a few hours in there, even though it seemed only like minutes. Whatever. The coolness of night was more than welcome after the heat.

Run if you don’t want to get caught.

Probably the best idea, I started running into the streets, winding it into different corridors and crossing large streets so wide that an army could march through them. After what felt like forever we decided to take a breather in one of the hallways.

“You left them in there,” Paul interrupted the night’s serenity, his voice hinting more disbelief than anger. Then, however, quick as lightning and strong as thunder, he grabbed me by the collar of my leather shirt, practically yelling into my face, “You left them in there! How could you?”

I didn’t have the strength nor the will to fight back, to make him understand. I just didn’t want to fight anymore...

“Don’t worry, I threw the keys to one of the prisoners,” I wheezed out in-between breaths, partly out of breath from running, and partly from the surprise attack.

Paul looked at me, confused more than ever as he let me go. “What? Then, what was that all about? I didn’t understand and I thou–”

I interrupted him with a wave of my hand. “I… I don’t know, Paul. Forget it. Just…. forget it,”

He just shook his head, “Sometimes I think I understood you more when we couldn't talk to each other.”

“Yeah,” I said and took a deep breath of the crisp night air. “Maybe.”

The stars were beautiful tonight.

Abyss

Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part I.

I quickly lunged for the keyring. The smoke was already filling the cells with its toxic grip. The heat of death followed in its wake like a plague. There were a thousand truths and only one was real. I screamed at the cell, I commanded the lock to be undone, but none of the truths fit.

Blisters bubbled forth on my hands, the bars becoming hotter than was bearable. Screams filled the hall of the damned as those closer to the growing hell had their sand run out in the hourglass of life.

I would die here. It was decided. We had no say. Others controlled our fate.

I let others decide my fate.

I walked through the hallway as I heard the lifeless gryphon scramble for the keys. He was searching for a purpose in the life of a bird with no wings. A spirit of flight chained in its own body. Death was mercy.

The pleading hands reached out through the bars. They tried to touch me, to grip onto me like a drowning man grips onto anything and anyone without thought, making their own saviour drown with them.

I wasn’t their saviour though.

The hands contorted into claws. They tried to slash me. Hissed at me. Yes, they hissed as the fire took the water out of their skin.

“You’ve changed,” I turned from the cells to the hall ahead and stared into my eyes. No, they weren’t mine, and the voice wasn’t mine either.

“Brother,” I whispered in disbelief. Here he was. It was over. I could rest.

He reached out his arms to hug me, and I obliged. How could I not.

“You’ve changed,” the voice repeated, now like two millstones grinding life itself. Pulling back, I found myself in the grip of a diamond dog with his head smashed in, eyes bulging bloody red out of their sockets, peering into me.

I shoved him away but he didn’t budge. Instead I moved, my feet sliding under me.

“I was the first you killed, remember?”

I remembered alright. Falling down into the blue caves. The guard posted there. In a stroke of luck, my mace met his head and like that, his life was snuffed. I remembered I was shaken.

Screams as prisoners behind me burned to death pierced the quiet. I didn’t feel anything.

“Where’s my brother?” I asked as he fell lifeless to the ground, the mace in my hand caked in black and red. The dog’s paw reached to the stairs leading above.

My legs moved, my eyes set on the throne above. The stairs were stone, cold and hard as my determination. It didn’t matter what they were. It didn’t matter as they changed, as they became soft like skin and fuzzy like fur and white as bone.

On the bloodied throne didn’t sit my brother, though.

“I’ve had about enough of this – how does one put it? – weird-ass dream. Time to wake up,” he said before kicking me down the stairs.

I jerked in my bed so hard my back flew out of it as the feeling of falling suddenly jolted my brain awake. But instead of falling down a flight of stairs, my back hit the bed again with a bang since the mattress was so thin. It took me a moment to realize that the dream was just a dream and not reality.

It also took me a moment to realize that the innkeeper didn’t sell us out to the guard as was my fear, even though Dufus assured me that the scribe had made many deals with this shady guy. But one must understand that waking up to a contingency of armed forces wasn’t my idea of a good morning.

With the fear squashed, that left me with the sour aftertaste of the freakish dream. I couldn’t help but recall what happened. However, the details were already starting to fade—except for one.

“Dufus.” I didn’t need to speak the question out loud. He couldn’t help but know, being in the center of my mind.

You’ve decided to put the lives of those prisoners beneath your brother’s. Now your consciousness is acting up after you suppressed it for the good of your kin.

“But I’ve changed, haven't I?”

That’s what happens when you grow up, Peter.

I didn’t have any words after that. Sitting up in bed, another realization hit me as my eyes surveyed the small room illuminated by the morning light. I’d completely forgotten that Paul was sleeping not so far away from me, practically directly opposite to me, in his own bed, his back turned toward me. Well…

“You don’t have to pretend, Paul. I know you’re awake,” I spoke, and with my eyes closed I let myself lean against the wall my bed was pushed to.

“How did you know?” The gryphon in question asked and, opening my eyes, I saw him turn around in bed to look at me.

“Please, I was making such a ruckus only someone deaf wouldn’t wake up. Or someone like me.”

He just stared at me for a while before telling me, “I don’t know what that thing said, but you’ve changed.”

I just blinked at him a few times, being speechless for the second time in the last five minutes. He sat up in his bed, but never took his eyes off of me. Paul continued when a heavy amount of silence passed between us, “I don’t remember you like this, and I dare say I know what I’m talking about. Back home, even though you couldn’t speak, we all got to know you. You were a good person, Peter. You’re different now.” He pointed at the bracelet around the wrist of my right hand. “Ever since that.”

I immediately shook my head. “Dufus has nothing to do with it.”

Paul jumped out of bed, the plumage of brown-tipped feather crowning his head now a little puffed up—a quirk Paul had when he became irritated or deeply angry. “He has everything to do with it! He’s manipulating you, slowly but surely influencing your every action!”

“You can’t know that!” It was my turn to jump out of the bed in anger. Why was he so angry?

“The Peter I know wouldn’t kill others in cold blood!”

Sadness suddenly took the ground beneath my feet, making me sit down on the bed. For a second I contemplated telling him while nervously playing with my hands.

“I’ve killed in cold blood before.” The words were out before the smart part of my mind could stop them. Paul just stood there as the silent words made the heaviness in the air all the more stifling. “What do you know about what happened in the slaver caves.”

Paul sat down now. “You mean back when the villagers captured you because they thought you were a scout to the slavers?”

I nodded. That explained why they treated me like dirt at first, I guess.

“Why do you want to know? I mean, I never brought it up because I didn’t know what the monsters did to you down there before you and the others were rescued.”

“Just, please. Tell me.”

He cleared his throat, clearly a little uncomfortable how the topic had shifted. “Well, when we were searching for their lair, we were ambushed by the diamond dogs. During the ambush, I tried to find you, but it seems they knocked you out or something because I couldn’t see you anywhere. There were too many of them in the end, and only me and one managed to escape, but not unscathed. You and the other gryphon were captured. At least that’s what I thought at the time. Hoped for.”

Damn… In the fervour of ambush, he probably didn’t even notice I was missing before that.

“I tried to get the villagers to help me find you, but they refused because we still didn’t know where their lair was, or how many there were. Alone and hurt, there was nothing I could do.” He hung his head low, looking quite ashamed. He probably took it as a personal failure, even though it wasn’t his fault that I was so stupid as to fall asleep behind some rock and presumably getting myself captured. I was probably incredibly lucky not to get captured for real when sleeping on some stupid rock.

“The sheriff let me stay at his house to sleep, which didn’t last for long. Some slaves seemed to have broken free at night and been able to get to the village. When the sheriff found out, he roused almost every gryphon, except for the young and elderly. They took arms that night and marched with the freed slaves into the hideout after learning its location. They didn’t let me and some other younger or otherwise hurt gryphons go with them, though. When we tried to sneak up after them, we were found out and they had two villagers stay behind to look out after us. After some time, they arrived with more freed slaves, children, and some wounded—you amongst them. They told me later that you played some part in freeing the slaves, but didn’t say much else.”

After hearing that story, the stifling pressure in the air was back.

“Peter, I don’t know what you did in those caves, but if you think killing slavers is killing in cold blood, then your heart is in the wrong place. If I could, I would’ve killed all of them, even if they had no slaves that moment. Any slaver has lost the right to live the moment they decide to be one.”

“Even if the slaver was a child? Even if the slaver was a father I butchered in front of his son’s eyes?” I asked weakly, not daring to look at my friend. “I almost killed that boy, in the caves. He was the alpha’s son. And I almost killed him again, when we found him in the cave by that glade with silver trees.”

Paul gasped in surprise. “Is that why you were so hostile toward that cub?”

Nodding, I said, “I was afraid he’d kill us for revenge.”

“Well, that would explain his anger then. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t utter a word. In the end, come morning light, he told me he had to go pee. I untied him and let him go, knowing he wouldn’t come back. At the time, I didn’t really understand the hostility of it all. But now...” Paul looked away, a look of concentration clearly indicating his reminiscence of things past.

“I was so worried back then that he would follow us and slay us in our sleep,” I said and smiled as another thought hit me. “Now I barely remember that little encounter. Haven’t thought about that kid in a long time, too.”

Of course, ‘long time’ wasn’t all that long, but when one is travelling and getting into all sorts of excitement throughout a short period of time, even a week can feel like eternity. After another moment of silence, I looked at Paul and he turned to gaze into my eyes. “Look, Paul, I am sorry about the prison. I was just trying my best to get us out in one piece. All of those prisoners were probably really dangerous if the confiscated things were of any indication. If you let them out then and there, we could’ve been easily overwhelmed and killed. In the end I did give one of the prisoners a key, though, so don’t worry about them anymore. Please?”

Paul listened to what I had to say with calmness and stone face. When my speech was finished, he looked downtrodden somewhat. “I understand, Peter. It’s just –” he got up and took a deep breath before pacing a little over to the small window set into the wall opposite the wooden, bolted door leading out. “– my father always taught me that all life is precious. I mean, I know that sounds strange coming from a hunter, but even then we should preserve life whenever we can. Hunting to eat is far different from hunting to kill,” Paul muttered the last sentence silently, however still loud enough for me to hear.

I saw the chance to change the subject and disperse this heavy atmosphere. “Anyway, I’ll check up on our now renewed budget and whatever else Dufus put into this old-new backpack.” I dragged the thing from underneath the bed and threw it on top to look inside.

“I still don’t trust him, friend,” Paul announced out of the blue, deciding to drag us both back to the unpleasant problem at hand. Instead of expanding on the subject, though, the gryphon decided to go outside, closing the door behind himself rather forcefully.

Pfft, party pooper.

“He’s right.”

If you thought he were, you wouldn’t be relying on me so much.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Slowly opening the backpack, I pulled out the first thing in there. It was a small paper bag full of a familiarly smelling bunch of leaves. Almost crying in joy, I suppressed the strange impulse to just shove the entire thing – paper bag included – into my mouth. Indeed, the paperbag presented a copious amount of solutions concerning my teeth. No more chewing sticks resulting in sore, sometimes bleeding gums and aching teeth!

Putting the bag gingerly aside, my hand once again delved into the dark depths. Out came a holstered knife with a small leather strap wrapped over the knife’s handle and buttoned to the leather scabbard. With a simple pop, I managed to unbutton the leather strap to take out the knife. It was made of steel most likely. The blade was single-edged and slightly serrated on the sharp side, only the last few centimeters were plain blade. The whole thing was about as long as my forearm—handle included. Tucking it away for later, I continued my search through the backpack.

Sometimes I’d find money in between the items, but most of the dosh was at the bottom. There was an old, sturdy blanket that would need a wash-over, and a small strapless satchel full of picklocks of various sizes and types.

Could be useful for later if you decide to learn the exhilarating skill of being an asshole stealing other people’s stuff.

Or, you know, the art of escaping. I’ll definitely try to fiddle with some locks later.

Next was some uneaten lasting food. Even if it looked quite alright to eat, Dufus and I decided to rather not test our luck. After that it was a small case filled with gems and some carving tools.

An artificer’s basic bag. Don’t know why I took it. Useless to us since you’re unfeeling to all magic, but some people could buy it from you for a hefty price I guess.

Alright. We should hit a market or something similar in the city then.

That would be unwise, considering the guard might be looking for all escaped prisoners.

Well, what then. Should we stay holed up in here for a while until it all blows over?

Not good, either. The scribe had friends in dangerous places and many connections to the underground of this city. It’s almost guaranteed these people will come looking for him. This city isn’t safe for us anymore.

But, the guy died in the prison!

The guards we confronted all died. Nothing but ash remained from the body. They probably just had him declared missing or something.

You can’t know that.

I can’t, and I don’t. However, even if they know he’s dead, his friends will still likely go after his killers. The closest suspects are you and Paul. Now don’t get me wrong, but you’re not really inconspicuous. And you did leave a witness behind...

Fuck.

Basically, it was damned if I do, damned if I don’t. If we stayed inside the tavern, we’d be tracked by the slavers or whoever his friends were. On the other hand, going out means the possibility of confrontation with the local guard. But then again, the guard was rigged with those bastards.

Putting those troubling thoughts aside for a moment, my hands dug back into the backpack to see if anything else was there. After palpating something round, I took it out. It was a silvery necklace with a silver circle-like amulet with a diameter of about five centimeters attached to it. Into one side of the amulet was set a slightly scratched but otherwise perfectly polished tear-shaped jade gem. On the other side was into the silver engraved a circle with lines crisscrossing inside of it, sometimes accompanied by a strange symbol or two.

Ah, now I remember why I took those charged gems. This here is a rather crudely made yet still very much functional sort of ‘magical items’ finder. Some guy was probably a treasure hunter. These things aren’t that uncommon with this lot. It should shine, tremor or both in presence of a magically imbued item. And by magically imbued item I don’t mean the everyday necessities powered by magic, but honest to maker magical items. However as all these amulet things tend to be, it needs a magical charge itself to function. Just pick one of those magical gems from the artificer’s satchel and touch it against the amulet’s engraved circle. That should make the amulet charge itself, if the artificer who made this had done his job correctly.

Following Dufus instructions, I touched a small sapphire against the surface. For a split second the gem heated up slightly while giving almost unnoticeable tremors. Something happened, that much was for sure.

I guess it’s done? I felt something.

It is. You didn’t really feel the magical energies pass, only the consequences of them doing so. Luckily, you have me to tell you when magic happens.

Why don’t I feel it, though?

Probably because you don’t have a whit of the void in you.

The void is starting to piss me off.

It does, doesn’t it? There was a slight good-hearted laugh following that statement. In all sincerity, I was kinda bummed about not being able to cast or even feel magic because of something with my soul or whatever.

There was something, though, that somehow didn’t sit well with me and something that I almost missed. For a fraction of a second I felt strangely happy. Was I for some reason happy that Dufus was happy?

Dufus was just coming out of his high when he again spoke in somber voice, Now, there shouldn’t be anything special in the backpack anymore except for some normal things like a basic fire-starting kit, a first-aid kit, and an empty waterskin. Maybe something else I forgot. That doesn’t matter, we should get out of here as soon as possible.

Why the rush suddenly?

I would rather brave the guard than wait for those slavers to come find us.

It’s not like they can hurt you, can they?

Well, no. You’re still my friend though, and I would loathe to see you hurt.

Dufus, you touch my heart truly.

I couldn’t help myself to think of the way Dufus had handled the slavers and the guards. With that, an idea struck me.

Could you maybe possess an animal? Like a squirrel or something small in case we need to get to places? Or a bird to help us scout our surroundings once we get outside subtly?

Yes, I can in a way. However, it would be very impractical to keep an animal like that around. Plus, I wouldn’t be able to translate anything for you.

Eh, you’re right. Forget it.

Done. Now get packing.

Soon enough, everything was jammed back inside the backpack which I slung over my back. I contemplated putting the amulet around my neck, but I didn’t want to bring even bigger attention onto myself once outside. The knife went into the back also, as I had nowhere to strap it to, and just putting it between my pants and my ass wasn’t too save.

Picking Paul’s backpack which he never unpacked, I went to the bar where Paul was sitting and drinking something. Upon seeing my backpack and his, the gryphon confusedly raised an eyebrow toward my direction.

“Dufus says it’s high time we tailed it out of this place and this city.”

Upon mentioning my mind companion, the gryphon’s mood turned sour. “Oh, is he the party leader now?” He asked sarcastically, something unbecoming of him.

“Stop it, we aren’t a party. And no, he isn’t, no one is. He just told me that the scribe he possessed was a slaver with friends in dangerous places. Those friends will surely come looking for him and his killers if they think he’s dead.”

“But… we didn’t kill him! Dufus did!”

“Shhh, not so loud!” I shushed at him, looking with my eyes at the other patrons of the bar who didn’t seem to pay attention to Paul’s little outburst. “It doesn’t matter who did it. The only thing that matters is that I am not entirely easily overlooked. They will come after me, and in extension, after you if they think we did it. Maybe, if other prisoners escaped, they will think that one of those escapees did it. Anyway, doesn’t matter, we’re moving out now.”

I threw his backpack at him before he could say anything or protest. His pack was quite heavy, but I managed. In the few months I’ve been here, I’ve gotten slightly stronger. Has it been that long, a few months? I didn’t even know, but at least two to three months surely. Time didn’t matter on the road, only the path did. The ever present thoughts of how Michael was coping without me, if he was even alive to do so, flashed through my mind like lightning splitting down a tree.

Putting the unpleasant arising feeling aside, I moved toward the door, Paul trailing behind me. Then I remembered that it would be a pretty good idea to have my waterskin filled. A talon less later, we stepped out into the grand city outside.

The alleyway hiding this tavern wasn’t much to look at—probably intentionally. We moved right toward one of the busier streets where we could hopefully blend in. That proved to be a rather difficult task, since there were only few species or creatures as tall or taller than me. And those weren’t that present in the morning crowd it seemed, so I stuck out like a sore thumb.

The street itself was grand in every sense of the word. It was as wide as any major street in a metropole back home, except cars were replaced with carts, hackney coaches or variants thereof, stands and stalls, and huge amounts of bodies both large, wide, thin, and small. To our left, the street continued upwards into to the mountain range, where halfway up the mountain stood a grandiose castle so far away one could mistake it for a painting if it weren’t for the huge flag atop one of the castle’s massive spirals dancing in the wind. To our right, the street dragged to the docks which weren’t that far away, only a few minutes of brisk walking, probably more with the amount of slow-moving traffic though.

Where should we go?

Going through the city gates is probably a bad idea. Maybe see if there are any ships getting out of here and going to the capital city by swimming upstream the Sunwing river?

What? Why didn’t you tell me before that there was such a way to get to Vanground?

I would’ve if we weren’t so busy trying to survive.

Just… tell me these things sooner than during life-threatening situations.

We’re not doing that bad…

“Peter, you’re spacing out again,” Paul said as the crowd flowed around us, the pedestrians giving us a polite breadth.

“Sorry. We should get to the docks, see if there are any ships getting out of here sailing up the Sunwing river.”

Paul suddenly grew slightly red in the face. “Oh, I didn’t think about that. That’s actually a great idea.”

“Don’t fret it,” I said, smiling at him reassuringly. A smile he returned happily.

We began moving with the crowd, going by the right side of the street where the flow concentrated downward to the docks. Right now, we were somewhere in some sort of shantytown district. The small houses packed against each other were tall, their thatched roofs overlapping each other, thus creating sort of a seemingly permanent protection against the elements for the tight streets between the blocks of these buildings. Though, sometimes there was a gap because some houses had a flat roof.

The street began curving slightly to the right, and soon enough we arrived at a huge open plaza filled with citizens, merchants, sailors, and all other sorts both appropriate and inappropriate. There were stalls full of seafood, and areas with nothing but towers of boxes, crates, and chests. Then there were, of course, the long huge piers jutting out into the ocean, ending just as the walls that continued into the sea did.

Right now, it seemed like we were situated at one end of the docks, and the other end seemed impossibly far.

Finding anything or anyone in this mess is outright batshit crazy.

At least that means you are practically hidden too. No one will try anything in this crowd.

Hopefully.

With having thought of nothing better, we began to sweep the ships from left to right for information. Walking to the first ship that seemed like something more than a shipping barge, we soon found a fairly young gryphon who looked like the captain with the hat he was wearing.

“Greetings, captain!” I greeted him with appropriate levels of enthusiasm, gaining his attention. He turned his head towards me, raising both eyebrows upon seeing me so high I feared they’d fall off.

“We-e-ll, fuck me sideway’ and frahnt ta’ back, neva’ seen ya’ two-legs lot ugly face b’fore!” he practically yelled with unbridled levels of joy and an ever-present smile on his face.

Do you seriously have to do the accent?

That’s but the shadow of his true drawling. Even I have hard time understanding what in the seven hells he’s saying.

And I have hard time understanding the accent as it is, so please maybe just tone it down?

Dufus sighed, Fine.

I decided to just answer, “Yes, I am somewhat of a rarity. Anyway, we wanted to ask you if you're sailing to Vanground or anywhere near?”

“Uhh,” he drawled, his smile fading to be replaced by a look of intense thinking. After scratching his nogging, he just shrugged and replied, “Nah,” turning back to his ship in the process as if dismissing us from his presence. One look at Paul, we carefully stepped away from him and to the next captain.

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Paul sighed, shooting a death glare at the bastard of a captain.

“Probably. Still, plenty of fish in the sea,” I said, giving the whole rest of the port a look. “Let’s get moving.”

After a dozen or more captains – I didn’t bother to count them up – we stopped by a fountain. It was one of many in the whole docks. It spewed clear water from its depths via a statue set in the middle, this one carved into the image of a stag reared on its hind legs, one of the arms holding a book, while the other was raised upward. The stag’s antlers were sawn-off and the book was desecrated with inappropriate imagery.

“Someone doesn’t like the deerfolk, I guess,” I muttered as Paul sat on the mountain’s edge while I observed the detailed marble figure.

It’s a preacher of the Maker’s religion. There used to be an empire, as grand as the Numen Forest, stretching from one corner of the world to another.

Let me guess, the empire was really powerful before it had fallen by some mysterious force or whatever and now nary but ruins remain, am I right?

Okay, maybe it does sound cliché, but it’s the truth. It’s a long story. I was actually around the time the war happened. Perhaps I could share my memories with you so I don’t have to explain it, but the few times I’ve done that weren’t exactly successful.

His words got me thinking. I already knew that Dufus was old, just how old really? Nevermind that, the memory thing could really come handy with the amount of knowledge and history behind his name. No more boring exposition!

Why didn’t you tell me about this possibility sooner?

As I said, it’s rather difficult and bothersome.

We’ll talk about this later. Give me a small summary, at least.

Do I have to? Dufus said more then asked, and I felt he was pouting.

You promised me knowledge for not getting rid of you, remember? Or should I remind you?

Very well, He sighed. Long ago, the empire was ruled by deerfolk who were the most religious lot around. They built their empire on the Maker, the whole thing was basically one big theocracy with this ‘pope’ as the leader of both the religion and the empire. However, since our creator decided to hole up somewhere, people started losing faith. Thus the Heretics were born – those who defied the Maker and all the teachings to carve their own destinies in this god forsaken world. There were only few at first, then there were many. There was war, unspeakable things happening on both sides, but the deerfolk were the ones hit the most. Soon the empire was overthrown, the entire deer race almost obliterated; survivors were scattered to the wilds where they became savages for the better part. Now they are nomads or primitives who scour the wilderness. Some find their way into the civilization’s light. Most stay in the dark of their now primitive ways.

Wow, that’s quite the history.

My mind flashed back to Paul’s village. Jack had killed a deer, and now I knew what I saw in those eyes of the dead deer. Though I believed Jack’s prey was the savage kind Dufus told me about, there was still some intelligence in the dark depths, somewhere beneath the clouded mind of a confused being.

The silver forest, too. I had a dream of armies killing deers and stags; children, adults, elderly. It didn’t matter. The survivors of that slaughter were trapped beneath the glade, where something gushed forth from the earth. Something dark, terrible, primeval… powerful.

A geyser, Dufus whispered.

So it all happened, the dream?

Yes. The power of the geyser must have preserved the carnage in a form of some sort of… ‘memory footprint’ or some such.

I felt it, Dufus. The power. It beckoned and I wanted it more than anything else.

There was a moment of silence, where even the busy streets seemed to quiet down, though my eyes still saw the people bustling about. Now, there was only my breath, and the sound of Dufus’ ethereal voice.

You can have it, you know. It wasn’t some sickly sweet offer. The words bore no maliciousness or desire; neither was it a deadpanned statement. It simply was.

We talked about this.

And we will talk about it again and again. Imagine all the pain and suffering fading away, all you have to do is open yourself up to me.

Never going to happen, Dufus.

People change, Peter. You already did.

Those last words echoed like the wind upon rolling mountains of my mind. An avalanche of conflicting emotions rocked my body, made me sit down next to Paul.

“It’s just a statue.” Paul brought me out of my reverie as he looked behind himself to see what had me so captivated.

“You know the story behind it?” I asked as if I knew not what the marble piece of history represented.

Paul just shrugged, replying, “Probably just some drunk sailors having some fun.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” I mumbled before slowly getting up. “Time to search again.”

My movement was accompanied by a loud rumble coming from the gryphon’s direction. It was quite impressive that I could even hear it considering the ambient noise.

“Maybe we should get something to eat first, huh?” I smirked at the slightly embarrassed gryphon as he held his belly.

We just began searching for another ship captains who looked like they were maybe going inland, when we approached a ship being loaded with large heavy-looking crates. Impractical to carry so many of these things anywhere by foot, so it looked rather promising. It could’ve been going somewhere else entirely, however, it seemed like a good a bet as any.

We just stepped around a few stacks of crates higher than us when Paul and I noticed what was probably the captain overseeing his cargo. It was a minotaur, rather small and lean compared to others I’ve seen running around. He was probably about the height I was, not counting the horns running from the sides of his forehead and upward, though even those things were small compared to other minotaurs. The thing was, he looked young yet old. In fact, he looked like the kind of man who had seen some shit when he was far too young to sanely process it.

Peter, get out. Suddenly, Dufus spoke urgently in my head.

What? Why? I asked, yet still acted on my mind companion's urgency, slowly gesturing to Paul to get back behind the stack of crates.

He’s –

Whatever Dufus said next was drowned out as the minotaur, as if on instinct, turned toward me almost casually with his entire body. Upon seeing me, his pristine light-orange eyes widened a little, before settling into a half-lidded stare, his eyes suddenly devoid of any emotion, pupils dilated into two wells of darkness.

His whole posture changed into a more relaxed one, his arms falling by his side like useless lumps, his legs bent like they bore more than they could handle. Yet, the minotaur didn’t look weak. No, quite the opposite.

He was no longer a captain. No, he wasn’t fighting against the sea anymore; he was one with the sea—no matter the weather. However, he wasn’t a part of of some ship, relishing the feeling of being bobbed in the waves of the cerulean mistress. What he was now was a fucking iceberg breaking through the ocean’s depths, destroying anything that floated or sailed in its way. And what I was seeing was just the damned tip of it.

It was as if death itself tolled its bell for me.

Run, Peter! Run! Dufus screamed at me. I didn’t really notice it in that moment, but he sounded scared.

Paul, being the predator, knew that something was wrong with the minotaur immediately without probably not really knowing what. He grabbed me painfully by my arm, jerking me backward and out of my petrified state.

“Run!” I screamed, no longer caring for anything but our hides. We started running back the way we came. It didn’t matter where we ran, really. Getting away from this monster of a minotaur, whatever the hell he was, was all that mattered. I couldn’t even tell what was scaring me so much about him except for how he looked in the moment he saw me.

Of course, that’s when the cavalry arrived.

“By the midnight laws, move no more, criminals!”

The bastards came pouring down from the main street like a hundred little spiders crawling out of their mother’s corpse. It was repulsing yet fascinating at the same time; the way they timed their arrival almost like this world was making another joke at my expense. I hated this shithole. I truly did.

I chanced a look behind myself, only to see the minotaur slowly advancing on us while inconspicuous-looking sailors weaved their way through the crowd that gathered all around.

Without warning, some of the guards started stabbing their comrades. Chaos ensued, and in came the second cavalry. Creatures from the crowd started crowding the guards, overwhelming them while they were distracted. I took that as an opportunity to run again.

“Paul, to the air! Take us to the air!” I yelled after him in a spur of genius as he was already running ahead of me, the lucky quadrupled. Even my fear of heights was forgotten in the moment of life and death.

The gryphon spread his wings and with a powerful flap threw himself into the air, soon picking me up, too, but not before I managed to grab a sword from one of the downed guards. Some of our pursuers had wings too, however, and they made quite sure to utilize them to their full potential, something a heavily-loaded gryphon had no chance of escaping.

Something hit us. Hard. In a swoosh of wind, I was soon liberated of Paul’s arms holding me. In the second of absolute terror of a freefall with absolutely zero amount of orientation, my whole life flashed in front of my eyes.

I’d say it was pretty good, though I probably shouldn’t have freeloaded so much to pursue my stupid dreams. I just wasn’t as strong as my father, I guess.

Eh, everybody makes mistakes. Nobody's perfect.

Roof incoming!

What probably wasn’t even a whole second later, I impacted what was probably the roof Dufus yelled about pretty hard. The sword flew from my hands, and I felt something in my backpack break. However, through the shock of it all, I didn’t feel like I had myself broken anything at all. The impact, however, would leave some large bruises for sure.

Quickly getting up, though somewhat wobbly, I found out I was on one of the rows of houses in the poor district. This row was filled with houses which, for more space I guessed, prefered a flat roof. I could even see a hatch in the corner.

Quickly picking the lightly dented sword that fell a few steps away from me, I was about to search the sky for Paul when suddenly something big and heavy dropped a couple of meters in front of me.

It was a red and orange snake being with dragon-like torso and arms, dragon-like wings jutting from his back and spread wide. It had no legs, only a tail that coiled beneath his muscular frame. In his claws he held a spear almost as long as he was—that is, basically my height. The being, all in all, reminded me of some kind of snake men, like slamanders or nagas from one of the famous fantasy settings.

You can’t win this. Let me help. Let me in!

Over my dead body.

That’s what I am trying to avoid, you idiot!

“Not the best wording for the moment, I guess,” I laughed out loud at my tired, stupid self as I readied to fight to the death.

Behind you!

Not even thinking much about it, I slashed as I turned around, decapitating some kind of catfolk as he or she tried to sneak up on me. The sword became stuck in its rib cage, so I just took the cat’s sword as the being released its grip on it.

Duck left!

I dove to my left side, turning around and using the momentum to ready the sword above my head for a downward fatal slash. The salamander’s spear came margins away from me, and lodged itself into the cat as it was about to fall to the ground.

The slash came down against the salamander’s head, but he managed to relatively dodge it by countering with the butt of his spear. Though the sword slashed through it, it diverted its track enough that instead of his head, the sword slid down harmlessly down his tail scales.

The seasoned warrior that he probably was, the snake creature slashed its tail like a whip even before my attack finished, something Paul liked to do with his tail during our sparring sessions. I always forgot about the damned tail

It threw me about two meters away from him, where I almost fell over the edge of the roof. The sword was lost as it tumbled down into the relatively empty street below. A couple shouts of alarm went up, but no bloodcurdling screams so no one hopefully got slayed by the falling sword. Some luck at least.

Before being even able to get up, the salamander slithered over to me, picking me up by my clothes with his powerful arms before throwing me against the wall of another building that was about a meter and a half higher than the one we stood on now.

Even in my dazed state, though, I was smart enough to cover the back of my head from the blow with my hands. Instead of my head cracking, then, it was one of my fingers. Or was it more? I couldn’t tell. Maybe my hand was broken. Maybe nothing was broken. Maybe I was the god dreaming this place up.

Damn, the head hitting wasn’t doing me much favour.

I fell on my belly, and it hurt like hell. In fact, everything hurt like hell. Didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Feeling pain meant I was still awake and kicking, but feeling pain also sucked hard.

Rolling around onto my back, I could glimpse the sky and in the afternoon light Paul fighting another gryphon, both of them ferociously flying around each other, looking for any opening to strike with their weapons. Paul, however, was at a big disadvantage. Having a lesser-reach weapon and not knowing how to use it much, the enemy bearing a large sword managed to hit Paul’s wing by its tip. My friend yelled out in pain, and fell like an angel of old.

He will die, and so will you.

Something grabbed my by my left leg. Could only be the salamander by the shadow he was casting over my face.

Save him, save yourself, save your brother. Let me in, dammit!

And become your slave? What would stop you from taking every last thing from me? The very thought of slavery, of being enslaved, of being commanded by the whims of some ephemeral creature forever. I could not imagine a fate more horrible.

Sliding along the roof scraped my back. I knew he was dragging me to the roof’s edge, and I knew he was taking the long way to do it, to make me feel the terror of impending death I couldn’t do anything about. Bastard.

You will die! Paul will die! You won't save anyone when you're dead! This isn’t what you want!

Of course… it isn’t. I want to save… them both. Even forming thoughts was becoming harder and harder.

Then let me in! Let me in! Let me save you! LET ME IN! Dufus’ frantic yelling turned into a bloodcurdling scream as his toy was denied for him. At least, that’s what I think was making him so mad.

“No,” I sighed, and with that, the salamander dragged me over the roof’s edge, holding me in the air by nothing but my leg with both of his arms.

Dufus, now eerily calm, continued his jabbing again, You would seriously choose death over life? Do you not trust me, Peter? I am your friend.

Only when it suits you.

Damn you, I still have… Gah! Fine! There is… another way.

Too late to... seduce me now, don’t you think?

It will help you, and you won’t have to give your ‘freedom’ to me.

“Death, or sssslavery?” The snake thing hissed at me.

I will lend you powers. You will be stronger, faster, better in every physical aspect. It will cost you, however, and it will cost others their lives.

What… what do you mean?

I can’t take the power from the void to you through such a small channel as the bracelet, so you will have to get it from somewhere else. Someone else. You will take the life force of others, and claim it for yourself.

I… I don’t want to become a monster.

Oh my sweet, sweet Peter. At least you will become a monster that saves his friends and family.

“Death it issss,” the salamander said, his patience clearly running out, and my time for decisions with it.

...

What do I have to do?

Chapter 20: Slippery preeminence - Part II.