Author's Note

Wow! This was a big one! Thought it wrong to decide to split it into parts since I wanted I bit of action for ya. Happy new years!

Disclaimer, for any future chapters with colored text.

Yellow = Latin/Griffon

Cyan = Russian/Drakar

Purple = German/Wolven

13. The blessed young

"How old are you, little one?"

The little griff seemed caught off guard at the question, pausing for a bit before answering.

"Ten." He then looked to the ground as he grumbled. "And my name is Cirrus…"

Why must they all be so adorable for vicious predators of the sky?

"Ten, hm? Tell me, Cirrus, who do you think I am?"

Cirrus looked back up at me, squinting his eyes a little before letting out a huff.

"I don't know what you are…" he glanced at Leona who was resting her head in my lap as I stroked her from head to neck.

"Well take a guess, why don't you?"

Pausing a bit, he mumbled something under his breath.

"Say again?"

"... I said you're probably the pet of that noble" He said with a slight annoyance as he pointed one of his talons towards Leona.

Blinking twice, it took a second for me to register what he just said. Cringing, he looked away but just as he did, I broke out in laughter. A hushed laughter mind you, didn't wanna disturb Leona too much. Cirrus however, just looked perplexed at me, I suppose he was expecting me to be angry.

"You uhh- hehe, you think I'm Leona's pet? Pffft-" I lifted my hand to cover my laughter, calming it down to a mild chuckle.

"Ahh… thank you. Been a while since I had a laugh like that but no, I am not her pet and neither is she a noble."

"B-but the carriage? The food? Firewood? The giant fuckoff elk?!"

Furrowing my brow a little, I gave him a stern look. "If you are to be by my hearth, you'll utter no curses."

That made him look at me in annoyance and just as he was to retort, the fire crackled and he remembered why he is staying where he is. Anything beats the cold. I would know.

Easing my gaze, I instead gave him a warm smile and ruffled his head, making him let out a little squawk.

"I know you've got a heart of gold in that little body of yours, don't let too much poison in via those curses. There are better ways of voicing your displeasure."

"Like what?" He said with a scoff.

"Hmm… Well take the story of one of the most prized saints of christendom." Summoning up my illusion magic, it appeared as golden light within the palm of my hand. I reached outwards and it drifted into the air in between us like thick strands as I began my tale.

"Our story starts in 1412 when a single peasant girl by the name of Jeanne d'Arc was born into the world." The light shifted into a baby within a crib, being rocked from side to side with a mother and father standing over her.

"Yet this world she was born into, was not as fair as one would think." The golden light shifted into black, red, hellfire. The image shifted into a manageress of terror. Villages burning, families running for their lives, swords and shield clanging on contact whilst horses charged into battle as arrows of pure fire rained down upon them.

"It was the hundred years war. The main combatants, the royal houses of the English and French, were in a brutal deadlock over who would be the master of the west. Millions died of both War and pestilence, an apocalyptic conflict."

Cirrus shuddered as he listened to the awful sounds of the illusion, he quietly and with his tail wrapped around his leg huddled next to my form. I laid my arm around him as I continued.

The image then shifted as from the middle of the pit of hell, arose a city of light. Its towers were shining brightly, yet it's walls were assaulted by the darkness. It nipped and bit, slowly tearing wisps of light away to be consumed by the darkness.

"In the middle of this war, in the heart of France, laid a bastion of faith. Orleans, founded over a millenia earlier, stood as a cliff guarding its citizens against the tides of war. Yet for however strong its walls were, without men to fight for them, the city was doomed."

The scene shifted again, this time to a dull grey. In front of them now lay a grey hall, lavished in ornaments but dull in color. Upon a throne, sat a figure, a king, cupping his face in his hands as he fell into despair.

"The king had almost lost hope. He had not the morale. Not the will to carry forth. Yet in that hour of darkness, a light shone through."

The king was suddenly lit up by light, as from the other end of the hall, the doors bursted open. Striding through them came a girl, young and beautiful, yet clearly low status and poor attire. She shone like the sun, yet without burning one's eyes as she stopped in front of the king and kneeled. The king looked upon her, with his mouth open and his eyes turned from a dull grey into a torrent of gleaming gold.

"Jeanne D'Arc had come, from the invitation of the archangel Michael, the angel of war. She had been commanded to save Orleans in its greatest hour of need, and save France from a century of fire. It was the King's decision on what to do with this peasant's girl who had wandered into his court."

In front of them now stood the girl, grasping a longsword with both hands as she knelt, the blade pointing down. She was in full armor, steel shining like a river of silver. In front of her stood the king, who with a smile on his face lowered a helm upon her head. Covering her fair dark hair but with her face still to be shown, she stood up and unsheathed her blade before marching out the door.

"The king accepted her proposal as God's will. With righteous fury in her heart, men at her back and God on her side, she rode forth."

The scene changed back to the city of light, assaulted by darkness. The bulwark of the previous image had disappeared however and now just a sliver of golden walls protected the crying families inside as the knelt in prayer.

"Orleans was at death's door, soon to be sacked and pillaged for all it's worth. Against this stood a single girl. Yet this girl of sixteen, a peasant with nothing to her name, who instead of cursing against a spiteful world, rode out and did something to change it, would be the one to save the city."

Suddenly from a hill overlooking the scene, a light shone faintly, akin to a single torch in a moonless night. Yet as seconds passed, the torch lit a blaze, a golden blaze, as from the crest of the hill, Jeanne appeared upon a horse and at her back rode an army of five hundred. Lifting up a cross, the hellfire and darkness that surrounded the city thrashed in pain before Jeanne rode with her brave men down the hill and into the darkness. With great fervor and fury, the people within the city opened the gates and charged. Assaulted from all sides, the darkness fled and Jeanne rode into the city with jubilation.

"The city, against all odds prevailed and the people were saved. Yet Jeanne, Jeanne was never done. For she strode forth once more to push the English back, but for all her might, she was captured."

The image changed to a grey city, surrounded by fog. Not a sound was heard, not even the crackle of the fire that burnt like a single candle within the city. Ash blew from it and in the clouds above, angels wept upon what they saw. Within the fire was Jeanne, crying, with her clothes ripped from her form. She let out a single tear, before the light was snuffed out, and darkness enveloped the city.

"She fought and saved thousands. Yet for this crime of fighting for the opposite side, this peasant's girl of nineteen was branded a witch and by the guise of the corrupt courts the war had fostered, she was burnt at the stake."

A bitter tear left Cirrus' eye as he listened, though I wiped it away with my thumb before I started petting him like Leona. I have found that the folk, the young ones especially, are easily calmed with pets and scratches, though if that was just special to me and my children or just a general rule is still unknown.

"Upon her death however, she found what she had sought for so long."

The final image displayed Jeanne crying in the embrace of a man, Jesus Christ. She was on her knees as Christ sat with her amongst a sea of clouds. Weeping in joy into his chest at her pain finally being relieved and weeping in sorrow for the souls corrupted by sending her unjustly to her death. Christ held her throughout it all, a warm smile upon his face as he held her with endless love. Yet as he opened his mouth to speak, the illusion burst into a million orbs of light, before dissipating, swept away by the wind.

"There is life after death, little Cirrus." Leona suddenly said, startling the little griff, although she didn't make any effort to stop my petting, the cheeky griff.

"We are judged for what we do in this world before we move onto the next. Jeanne knew that, and so do we. Instead of harboring your unhappiness and filtering it out through curses, let it instead be used as a sword to protect those you love." She smiled warmly as she talked, before giving you a slight nuzzle at the end upon mention of loved ones. We had become quite close to one another throughout our travels, not in a romantic sense mind you but more just, acting as one another pillars to lean on, as we both were single parents.

Cirrus looked down at this, a few more tears escaping as he sniffed before he pressed his face against my leg and let out a muffled sob. Leona finally relented her position as I lifted the little guy up in my lap and rested his head against my chest.

"Wh-what if I don't have anyone who loves me?" He got out between sobs.

Patting him as he continued crying I told him the truth.

"We will always love you, no matter what. God will always love you, no matter what. You are loved and you'll always have a family with us."

And from the noise I was hearing up the street, we'll be having some more members soon enough.

…

"Croo"

The three little children stood huddled around Helena as she sat on the couch with the dove in her lap, their eyes fixated on the curious little creature. It was half covered by a blanket, with Helena gently petting its little head as it cooed in relaxation.

"He's so small…" Illarion said.

"And cute!" Fiddie added with a smile on his face as his tail seemingly went wild.

"Hehe, kinda like you." Lucia said, casting a sidelong glance to her now pouting brother as she giggled.

"It's alright Fiddie," Helena comforted, "you'll grow up to be a strong and respectful wolf."

She then turned her head towards the rest of them.

"Speaking of growing up," she said, "do any of you know one of the most important tenets of an adult?"

"Kindness?" Fiddie answered in an unsure tone.

"Wisdom." Illarion said with conviction after giving a thought.

"Strength!" Lucia exclaimed with boisterous energy.

Humming in thought for a second, Helena nodded with a smile. "All good aspects of people in general, correct." Helena began, getting a row of smiles and wagging tails from the youngsters. "However, when considering what differs a child from an adult, the ability to take responsibility is one of the most important aspects."

Helena then looked down once more at the little dove, lying half asleep within the warmth of the blanket. "That being the case, I shall give all of you the responsibility of taking care of this little guy."

"Really?!" They exclaimed in hushed voices as to not disturb or frighten the little creature.

"Really." Replied with a suppressed giggle at the sight of the little ones happiness. "Starting with giving him a name, any ideas?"

"How do you know it's a boy?" Asked Lucia curiously.

"Good question! Well judging from its coloration," Helena began, pointing to a bit of blue that lined the dove's otherwise snow-white stomach, "you can tell it's a male because it's colors are more striking to attract potential mates. Although this is not the case in all species, and I'm a little unfamiliar with the birds here so his gender is mostly an educated guess." Helena said, saying the final part with slight embarrassment at her lack of knowledge.

The trio hummed in thought as they tried thinking of names, muttering guesses quietly before all of them quieted down and looked once more to Helena.

"So? What will it be? Lucia's idea first, then Illation and finally Fiddie." Asked Helena

Lucia perked up at being first whilst the others looked at her. "Oh umm, well since it's nearly perfectly white, has wings and is a guy umm…" She giggled a little bit with a slightly flustered face. "I thought we could call him Mark Jr."

There was a pause whilst Lucia stood still in embarrassment at her admittedly not too great of a name. Illarion and Fiddie simply raised an eyebrow, yet the silence was broken by a chortle. Helena sat with a barely covered smile as her cheeks puffed out trying to contain her laughter. Yet as the dove let out another coo, the dam burst open and as she laughed.

"Mark Jr? That's brilliant! Oh gosh… I'm gonna burst a lung haha!" She said between laughter as Lucia blush increased, her brothers also letting out a little giggle at the spectacle. Calming herself down a little though, Helena breathed a sigh and looked down at Lucia.

"Thank you Lucia, I really needed that. Alright then, that one down, and a good one at that. Illarion, have in mind?"

Illarion without the hesitation or embarrassment of his sister gave a smile of confidence as he answered. "Pax, as in peace in the griffon tongue, one of the few words I learnt from Leona."

Helena cringed a little at having the Latin language seemingly copy pasted by the griffons, but she hid it well.

"Since the dove is a sign of peace, I figured the name fits well" Illarion finished.

His siblings gave an 'Oooo' at him as they seemed in agreement over the name's quality.

"Well," Helena said, as she gave off a single light clap, "that's certainly a good name, easy to remember and pronounce too. Good job Illarion."

Illarion smiled with pride at the praise as his tail swung in happiness behind him. Helena then turned her head to Fiddie.

"So Fiddie, whatcha got for us?"

Fiddie, seemingly replicating a bit of the embarrassment of Lucia, paused a bit before answering. "Well going off the shade of blue on his color, I thought we could call him Azure…"

The other two nodded, seemingly pleased with the name as Helena looked on with a smile.

"Yes, that is certainly a good name… but that brings up the problem of which of the three we should choose." Helena then hummed a little before snapping her finger, a sparkle of gold being made as they snapped. "Oh! How about a vote?" She asked the youngsters.

"Okay!" They replied in unison before turning towards one another.

"I vote for Mark Jr."

"I vote for Azure."

"I vote for Pax."

The trio stood like a triangle, pointing to one another with their forelegs as Helena giggled at their predicament.

"Wait!" Fiddie suddenly said as Lucia stopped arguing with Illarion over the name. "What if we let the little guy decide for himself?"

"And how exactly would we do that?" Lucia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Simple, we bow our heads and see which one he'll perch on."

Lucia and Illarion gave a glance to one another, before shrugging. "Fair enough."

Forming a semi circle around Helena, the trio lowered their head for the birdie as Helena removed the blanked and roused the little bird from it's snooze. Hopping up the the edge of her knee, the dove seemed to stare curiously at what was in front of it, eyeing each head multiple times.

Silence filled the air, the breath of the inhabitants of the cart and the muffled noises outside being the only signs of life. But then, a gentle fluttering of wings was heard as the dove made its choice.

"Well," Helena began, "welcome to the family, Pax"

"Croo"

The little drakar went cross-eyed as he stared up at the dove who sat seated upon his snout. Moving a little though, Pax's tail feathers brushed against the nose. Breathing in a little, Illarion let out a sneeze and Pax immediately flew off to his previous perch upon Helena as the two other siblings laughed.

"So now that we got that sorted out, I should mention a few things about raising a bird before we really get into the meat of it. The fir-"

Thud thud

"Helena? Can you come out here please? We got company!" The muffled voice of Elijah rang out.

…

As we started making preparations, the sound of singing grew louder. Leona putting out more bowls, Helena steering the soup and me getting more bread out from the pantry, the three of us moved in a flurry to make ready as the singing rounded the corner. What our sight was truly heartwarming to see.

A whole crowd of about 15 griffon children and youngsters followed a merry Mark with a griffon child sitting on his shoulders. He took long comical strides to the tune of what he and his companions sang.

"So let's pull down the watchtowers, you're going home at last! Say farewell to Bellaghy, Carrickmore and West Belfast!" They sang uncoordinated but still with smiles on their faces as they moved towards us

"With a kit bag on your shoulder and a tear all in your eye. Well pardon me for smiling whilst you're waving me goodbye! Pardon me for smiling while you're waving me goodbye!" He finished off his song with a skip and an over exaggerated bow towards us as he finally arrived.

Both us and the kids behind him clapped and cheered for the merriment he brought to all.

"Thank you, thank you, I aim to please." He said with a fake english upper-class accent before twirling around on his feet, facing the crowd of youngsters and giving off a clap. "Now! Listen up little ones, my old man Elijah over here has got fire, food and just about the warmest hugs you can find in the world." He exclaimed whilst pointing at me. "That being so, I want you all to treat him with respect he deserves. Be mindful of my sister as well, she gets cranky when someone pulls her feathers." He gave off a laugh, as Helena pouted. "Now go and get yourselves warm and fed."

As the crowd simultaneously cranked their heads in my direction, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous as I kissed my pendant. "Lord have mercy on my soul."

…

It had taken half an hour, but everyone now had a meal and a fire at their side. Feeling exhausted I plonked myself down on my tree stub by Mark and Helena's side, looking on as Leona made the rounds on the little ones. I gave off a sigh of relief upon being able to rest for a while, the vapor of my breath fogging the air in front of me before scattering.

"Tired already old man?" Mark asked with a smirk on his face.

"That's father to you, brat!" I replied with a laugh, giving his arm a lighthearted punch. "So I take it there weren't any complications?"

I was met by a pause. A pause? A pause. Oh no.

"Yeah… about that…"

…

Moving down the street, the merry band of 16 griffons and a human sang a cheerful tune. Although a few were too busy munching on some well earned sausage. Mark himself had found a particularly young and adorable little griffon to accompany him.

"You okay up there, Paul?" Mark asked as they moved down the cobbled street.

"Mhm! I can't wait to meet your dad, you think he'll like me?" The little griffon asked.

"I'm sure he will, just as long as ya don't curse ya should be fine. I can barely get away with it half the time and I'm his son." Mark answered with a laugh.

Turning his head back to the street in front of him however, he noticed something very odd. The streets where crowds usually meandered, sharing fires and food, were all gone. Derelict building covered each side and everything suddenly got allot more quiet.

Motioning with his arm for everyone to stop, he and the crowd stood still as they listened. The wind howled a little as it blew through the alleyways before the beating of wings was heard from above.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a trio of griffons swooped down and landed in front of them, each one being of a similar brown coloration with the only notable feature being the massive scar upon the leading one's face.

'Ahh… this is gonna be dumb and dumber situation isn't it? With perhaps a guest star of absolute fuckwit.'

"Afternoon lads," Mark greets them, "just passing through, we don't want any trouble."

The griffons looked at him with bored expressions, the lead one seemingly calm as he spoke.

"Yeah, I bet you are…" He glanced at Paul, sitting atop Mark, causing the angel to tense up as Paul glided down to huddle in with the others. "That being said, there's a toll for going through here, see? And yet you just waltzed on through without a care in the world."

The griffon then turned his sights towards his belt. "So I'm gonna need that sword of yours, good steel can't be wasted for outsiders such as yourself."

Before Mark even had a chance to respond, one of the other griffons whispered to the lead griff with a smirk on his face. The lead griff gave off a disturbing smile as he pointed to one of the younger girls, making her squeak in fright.

"I'm also going to be needing that one, she's a runaway from one of my most esteemed clients, you see. Hand it over quickly and there won't be any, as you put it 'trouble.'"

The silence was palpable, laying thick in the air as Mark simply stared at the trio. Taking a deep breath however, he finally spoke with his eyes closed.

"Good thing I've read up on my Latin." He muttered before opening his eyes and unsheathing his sword within the blink of an eye. Holy scripture danced across the blade as it shone, even on a dimly lit day.

"Ya know, I think I'd rather just pay in blood." Mark said with grim determination.

The griffon simply smiled with sadistic glee as he held up his long sharp talons, each of them being covered in a layer of sharp steel. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Oh really? Well then... show me your motivation!" Mark exclaimed as he charged, using his massive wings to propel him forward before they had time to react. The blast of which made the snow in his wake form into a miniaturised blizzard.

An overhead swipe towards the griffon to his left swung forth, bringing a tide of blood with it as it connected with the creature's neck. The blade had swung true and cut clean through the neck, with only a thin strip of flesh connecting the head to the rest of the body. The face of the griffon was frozen in perpetual terror as if still processing what had happened, but as his eyes swung down, the loss of blood and nerves finally registered. The body fell in a heap as Mark retracted his blade from it.

Having no time to waste, Mark quickly turned around just in time to parry a strike from the scarred griffon. With his eyes bulging from his head in rage, seemingly mad, the griffon yelled.

"I WILL PISS ON YOUR CORPSE!"

Just as he did, the scarred griffon struck once more, this time managing to catch Mark's sword between his talons. Before Mark even had time to react, the griffon extended his wings and subsequently hit Mark with them in a great swoop, throwing the angel back 3 meters.

"Not so tough without your sword, huh, boy?" The griffon mocked with a grin on his face as he took a few swings with it.

Mark merely stood up and smiled as he held his hands behind his back, a crooked smile adorning his face.

"D'ya know, you really have a way with words don't you?" Mark mockingly complimented the griffon, making him glare at the angel. "So much so I got in the mood for poetry, so to quote Callus."

He paused as he reached his hands out and extended his wings in a wide arch, an ethereal glow enveloping them as more than a dozen balls of fire flickered to life around him. "I will sodomize and face-fuck you."

The griffon only had time to shield himself with his wings as Mark's fully extended wings gave a single great flap, and a hail of fire was let loose.

"AGHHHH!! GUH, FUC- AHH"

His screams echoed as he burnt, the flames enveloping like a snake would, coiling and suffocating. Feathers flew like embers leaving a great hearth as the griffon rolled around in the snow, to no avail. His sobs and cries were finally silenced however as the pain overtook him, and he fell limp upon the snow covered street. Along with the thud of his head however, came the clattering of steel. Out from under the griffon Mark's sword hit the ground, though no damage to its form came from the fire. The scriptures on the blade still shone true and the rubbish adorning the pummel glowed with resplendent red, flickering like the beating of a heart.

Walking over to it, he paid no mind to the corpse as he picked up his blade. He stretched his arm out towards where the sun would be in the sky and gave a smile as the beating stopped.

"I'm sorry dear," he spoke in a hushed tone, "should've never let him get ahold of you."

Giving the ruby a kiss, he turned around to the noise of frantic struggling.

"NOT ANOTHER STEP!" Yelled the final griffon, his back against the wall of one of the buildings opposite Mark. In his grip was the girl from earlier, desperately trying to get free but stopped as he reached up with one of his talons and pushed it against her neck. "Careful now little one," he said with a truly disturbing grin as he licked her cheek, making her shiver and sob in fright, "don't wanna get blood all over those pretty golden wings."

Mark merely looked on in concealed fury, a deadpan stare adorning his features.

Turning his gaze back to Mark, the griffon spoke once more. "So here's what's gonna happen, white wings. I'm gonna take this little hen back to my employer and you're gonna forget this ever happened. Let me go, and we might just not kill you for what you've done so far." His gaze flickering to the corpses of his comrades.

Mark stood as still as a statue, not uttering a word as the crowd of children looked on from a nearby alleyway. Silence filled the air before Mark took a deep breath, and spoke slowly, methodically, ensuring his every word rang out in shivering sanguine.

"You will die, as your weakling leader died. Burning. Honorless. Weeping." He paused as he reached up with one of his hands, an ethereal light encompassing it as it clenched into a fist. "Ashamed."

A cry of pain rang out across the streets as bones crunched, splintered and cracked, flesh was torn and stretched, tears shed. The cobblestones underneath the griffon had risen in golden light and had swiftly dislocated his forelegs, freeing the girl. Soon she too was encompassed in light and pushed away towards the others as Mark strode forth to the melody of carnage being displayed.

As soon as the girl made it to the others, a wall of cobblestones rose up around them, covering the sight of what was going on beyond them. However, it did not stop the sounds.

Screaming continued as Mark's footsteps continued before coming stopping, then the screams were muffled and the crunching and churning of flesh and bones stopped.

"May God have mercy on your soul."

The noise of a blade cutting through air was heard, before hitting something with a squelch, a thud was heard soon after and then… nothing. Dead silence.

That was until the noise of crackling was heard, and the stones of the wall slowly flew away to the original placements. What was revealed was the foul smell of burning corpses, three pires of flesh and flame stood in the street. In front of the children however, stood Mark, kneeling down, with his sword sheathed.

A series of yelps was heard as most of the griffon children backed away from him, despite the gentle smile on his face.

"No, no, I'm sorry…" He said in a hushed, regretful tone. "I didn't mean to scare you… it's alright now, they're gone. It's safe."

There was a pause, and Mark's heart was filled with trepidation at being rejected. That was until two griffons jumped forth and wrapped their forearms around him, weeping into his coat as he embraced them. Little Paul and the griffon girl wept, muttering thanks and begging for safety.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! Please… please don't leave us!"

"Shhh, shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay." Mark comforted them, trying his best to replicate the maternal actions of Helena, and despite his inexperience, it worked.

More and more griffons joined in, some crying, weeping and sobbing, some simply enjoying the warmth, some simply seeking affection. They'd be safe, with the sword saint.