A storm was brewing. I could hear a knocking at the door, while my dad went off to get his hammer, the one he always kept in the cliff-face house. I could feel that there was something wrong, as my mother held me close. She was trying to look brave, but I was a child. I could see through her façade as as clearly as any other griffin could see through glass. She was scared. Very scared, but I was too afraid to ask what had her where she was, emotionally. I could hear as my father crept towards the entrance to the cave we called home, his breath unsteady.

What had my family so worked up? I had to find out.

But alas, my mother needed me, even if it was an irrational fear.

He finally reached the entrance, and opened the door. He then exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door, came back, bid us farewell, then left. Something was really off. Dad would never leave me or my mother; he loved us too much.

All that I remember was something about a "great evil" and "spires." It wouldn't be for a long time that I would know what he meant, judging by how rarely that sort of topic came up. Dad never really liked to talk about his time with the Service. Very sore topic. He always said that the things he saw couldn't be un-seen. I never really knew what he meant by that, but I guess that anything you see can't be unseen, unless you could travel through time or something.

Anyway, three years later, something... happened. I had been learning how to fly and manipulate the magic in my wings. Mom still wasn't quite over dad, so I never talked about it. I had managed to get the hang of flight, but then, of course, something new happened: I hit my first thermal. I got carried so high up that I could barely breathe. Then 'it' happened, and at the worst possible time.

I started to regain memory of my past.

Not from my current life, but of other lives from someone else's point of view. I saw myself going to an academy, a hammer like my father's in talon. I saw myself leaping from roof to roof, a familiar but large weight on my back as I ran from a group of diamond dogs. I could feel as I glided from peak to peak, wind ruffling my young wings. All these things and more, all at once, all as if I'd actually done them, all these memories from griffins in very different scenarios from my own, but always they did what I'd do in their situation; I ran, I fought, I learned, I trained, and I cried.

All while falling from the sky at terminal velocity. I could hear my mother screaming as I shot past her. It must have been terrifying, watching your own child fall towards certain doom. But of course, I couldn't just die like that, I was way too important, if my new memories were anything to go by.

That day, I learned who I truly am.

I am a legend.

I am an anomaly.

I am the ultimate weapon.

I am a tool of light.

I am Retribution.

And my it is my duty to right the wrongs that had been committed by all.

And this is my story.

Author's Note

And so it begins! The hopefully epic tale of Retribution the griffin has begun. Sorry if this chapter was a bit short, I've only just started writing, so forgive me if I have any problems with my writing, but feel free to point them out. I plan on maybe editing this a little, since I don't know too much about the aging times of griffins relative to humans. I'd like a bit of cover art or advice, if you'd be willing to fill either of those requests.