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!”