Chapter 1
I fell back on my bed, still angry about being treated like a child. Of course, I could’ve reasoned if I felt like it, I was a child, physically. Mentally, though, I was smarter than the oldest of my sisters.
Unfortunately for me, wits didn’t hold much ground for a five year old, especially a girl. I’d done my best not to get angry, but I had. I’d insulted my mother’s guests, who had been treating me like a simpleton. I had attempted to explain to mother that I was only trying making them feel stupid like they were making me feel. She didn’t want to hear it.
I’d been sentenced to my room for the rest of the night. It was almost as bad here as it had been back in the great hall. Except here I was unoccupied, I didn’t have to avoid people who might pinch my cheeks and tell me how cute I was, but at least nobody was talking about me as if I wasn’t there.
I spent my time thinking of more insults for the guests, insults that I would most likely never speak. They had no ground on which to treat me like I was stupid. I was smarter than them!
That was when I thought of something. Why did I put up with this, why didn’t I just leave for a while? It was not any lack of wit that made me decide to leave, thinking that a girl with no experience would be able to survive in the woods for even a small amount of time after dark; it was a lack of experience.
I took off my fancy clothing, wrinkled after me neglecting to take it off before lying down, and put on my least attention-grabbing robes, hoping that the black and browns would make me appear more like a commoner.
It wasn’t hard to sneak out of the palace dressed like that. No one noticed a poorer nobleman’s daughter leaving like they would have a princess. I was lucky that my white-blonde hair was hidden by a hood, though, because that was a dead giveaway of my identity. I was the only girl in the city with hair that fair, although a few came close.
I breathed deeply when I exited the castle doors, glad that nobody had noticed such as small figure darting about. My robes must have just made me appear short, and hid the fact that I was but five years of age.
The guards, if anything, seemed mildly surprised to see me run away from the palace as quick as I could. I’d decided to let them see me do something out of the usual so that when mother or father discovered my absence, they’d know where to look. I hadn’t known exactly why I did this, but I’d decided, in later years, that it was some instinctive yearn for safety that could only be received by a subtle hint.
I was a small, willowy five-year-old, but fast, and I flew down the road a ways before cutting off of the lightly paved, mostly-dirt road. I’d decided to go into the forest, for some reason that I couldn’t fathom. It was almost like I was being unconsciously called for.
The impossibly tall trees didn’t look promising, or the leaves that, in the pale moonlight appeared to be little less than pitch black. But I continued. I had never been one to be afraid, or to show fear, at least.
Once I entered the line of trees, the call became stronger. I couldn’t make out anything but an impossibly lonely feeling that radiated throughout the woods. I had an overwhelming urge to turn around at that feeling, but for some reason I didn’t. I kept going.
My footsteps were usually very quiet, but seemed loud in the serene, eerie quiet of the wood. I randomly wondered how loud my sisters’ footsteps would sound. They were often much noisier than me.
I soon realized that when I walked in a certain direction for an amount of time, the call either grew stronger or weaker. It didn’t take me long to figure out that it was leading me to something. I wasn’t sure if that idea appealed to me, but I continued on my walk.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been hiking through increasingly difficult ground when I heard a sharp cry, like a bird’s, but deeper, and more of a roaring cry than a shrill song. It came from a distance away, and from my left.
I stood still and listened, but I did not hear it again. When I turned that way, and took a step forwards, the draw I felt intensified, something I’d been afraid that it might do. I sighed walked onwards, my curiosity getting the best of me. Sometimes I wished that I shared the same disdainful personality of my sisters’, the one that meant that I wouldn’t have run away in the first place because the guests’ comments wouldn’t have bothered me as much.
I was too smart for that, though. At the moment, I didn’t feel smart. At the moment, I felt like the biggest simpleton in the kingdom. How could I have followed this strange cry without thought?
An errant thought drifted across my mind like a loose leaf blowing lazily in a breeze. I wonder what could let off a signal so strong that it reached me all the way back at the palace. I immediately dismissed the thought, not wanting to know.
A moment later and I found myself stepping into a clearing. At first I thought that everything was blurry, that I was losing my sight. Then I realized that it smelled so bad that my eyes were watering. I held my breath and wiped a hand across my face, dismissing the tears.
I gasped at what I found once I could see. A large form was fallen in the middle of the small meadow-like clearing. I could see wings as clear as if it were day, and a beak that pointed outwards, away from the body, as if the beast had turned its head to look for help.
It was a pitiful, horrible sight. That was when I heard another vocal cry. Aarokk! It cried in that too-deep bird voice. I hesitantly stepped closer to the corpse, sure that I had not seen the beak move, and wondering if I were simply hearing things.
It sounded like it had come from the stomach of the beast. I walked as close to the beast as I could bear, but I still wound up walking a far arch to go around it. I nearly puked when I saw the cause of its death.
Its stomach was gone. It was as if someone had simply cut it out. There was a large lump a little away from the puddle of blood that had formed around this side of the beast, and I was suddenly frightened to see it move, to breathe.
I realized that this is what had made the call. A young griffon, probably younger than me, if he was still with his mother! I sighed as conflicting emotions stirred within me.
Disgust at the body, and fear of the baby griffon that was still big enough to kill me easily, since I lacked any self-defense training whatsoever. But also affection, and sympathy for the cub that hadn’t actually made any move to harm me.
I stepped closer and the griffon cub raised its head and stared at me with big, moonlight pale eyes, flecked with gold and scarlet. It was an eerie gaze, leaving me near paralyzed.
Then the cub broke off the connection and stood, as if it were unused to its legs. I held out its wings as if to balance itself, and I saw that they were each about as long as he was.
I flinched as he walked towards me, but held my ground. When its beak came threateningly close to my leg, I considered jerking away. But before I could move my leg to safety, the creature’s head butted against it.
It was rubbing the top of its head against my hip, and making a rumbling sound that resembled roughly that of the palace mouser cats. On an unthinking whim, I reached down and stroked the soft, down feathers that ran down his neck, chest and a little farther down his back, like a mane of feathers.
He suddenly tilted his head up and stared into my eyes. I caught one word in his gaze: Allásso̱n. I didn’t know how I heard it, or if I even did…it was like it was put into my head by…by the griffon cub.
“Allásso̱n?” I asked in a near silent voice, “Is that your name, little one?” I’d heard of griffons having magical powers, since they were the blood-form of air.
The cub gave a short cry in reply, but, underneath the cry, I heard, “Yes.” I gasped for breath. Not only could the creature put words—maybe more—into my head, but I could understand him too!
I swore in a way that would make even the most experienced guardsman blush with shame, a gift that came with being small enough that the gatemen didn’t see you when you listened in on their conversations.
I sat down heavily in mud that would stain even the brown on my robes, and sighed. This was getting weird even for me. I might have been five, an age of belief in the impossible, but I wasn’t suicidal or crazy, and being here, next to a dead griffon and a cub, wasn’t the safest thing to be doing.
I decided that I needed to get home. Suddenly I groaned. Where was home? I was only vaguely aware of the creature butting his head up against my knees when I didn’t move.
I did feel, however, when a sharp pain erupted in my knee. I glared at the cub, whose face read surprise, as if he didn’t know he could make me bleed by only nipping at my leg. “Sorry.” He said with one of his strange cries.
That was when the idea struck me. “Can you understand me?” I asked, still not able to believe that it was possible. The griffon cub looked insulted.
“Of course.” He replied, seeming less and less mysterious every moment and more like a…a human. I couldn’t bring myself to forget all of the things that I’d heard about griffons that quickly, though.
“Can you help me find my way back to the palace, Allásso̱n?” I asked, hardly daring to use the cub’s name. Now that I actually heard him, now that he let himself be heard, I’d found that he sounded older than me, somehow.
Allásso̱n studied me for a moment before saying, “Yes.” Apparently I’d passed some sort of test he’d set up. I suddenly realized that Allásso̱n was the only person…well, creature that could talk, that had ever treated me like I wasn’t five years old, despite the fact that I was.
I suddenly found myself warming up to the griffon cub, despite the worries and fears that I still had. My frown had disappeared at his response though, and I dared to smile at the creature that was going to, supposedly, lead me to safety.
“Thank you.” I said, although I was still nervous about the strange way that I could understand him and he could understand me. It was odd talking to something that wasn’t human.
He said nothing in reply, but started walking in a way that clearly said he was growing used to walking on his legs, which I found odd. Surely griffons didn’t spend all their time in the air.
As I followed him, I became shocked at how long I’d walked to find the source of the strange loneliness. Oddly, it hadn’t seemed that long when I had been walking to the clearing. It soon became apparent that I was tiring; even if I could walk much farther than my sisters, I still lacked the ability to be able to go on for hours.
Allásso̱n stopped when the noise of my footsteps fell silent, and turned to face me. “You walked longer than I thought you would be able to.” He told me, as if he’d had experience with nobles and royals before. “I will carry you for the rest of the journey.” His last statement surprised me, although he said it as if it were nothing.
I knew that I was small for my age, but I was not hollow-boned or ridiculously tiny. As if reading my mind, or maybe reading the doubtful expression on my face, he continued, “Griffons are stronger than other creatures.” As if that cleared anything up.
I decided to humor him since he seemed to believe that he could carry me. His back only went up to about mid-thigh, and his head reached a little above my waist, and it was easy to swing my leg over his back and settle myself. His fur felt like velvet, and his feathers were silky.
I had to wrap my slim arms around his neck to keep from sliding right off of him when he moved. My legs ached from walking and I realized that the land was rough and steep, and that I had walked from the palace to what must be two miles into the wood. It seemed impossibly far, especially from someone who’d never walked far in her life.
Thi̱río walked with a smooth grace that seemed to radiate off of the young griffon cub. And he hadn’t been exaggerating, I realized, when he’d said that griffons were stronger than regular beasts. He seemed to draw energy out of the air around him, out of nothingness.
While he walked, we talked. He didn’t really have a lot to tell me, but, and it was probably because I couldn’t think straight because I was so tired, I told him a lot about me. I was surprised and relieved when, when we had to be a lot closer to the edge of the wood, we found ourselves face-to-horse with a search team of guardsmen.
“Princess!” The man at the head of the group cried out in relief. I recognized him as a friend, Allan, who was a guardsman just below the age of the middle years.
I was too tired to respond, and let them gasp away when they saw that I rode a griffon cub. I was too tired to care. Thi̱río approached with caution, and I remembered that the guardsman would have been taught that griffons were ‘highly disagreeable’ and ‘prone to violent tendencies’, as my teacher had told me.
That was when I heard the sound of a guardsman pulling out an arrow. “Wait!” I cried with a sudden burst of strength. The man ignored me and a knot of anger curled up in my stomach. “I am your princess! You will do as I say! Hold your fire!” I could see the mutinous look cross the guardsman’s face and I knew that he was thinking about the financial reward for killing a griffon cub. I guess that he didn’t know that if he killed the cub—a friend—that I would have much worse be done to him.
“Yes, Princess.” The guard finally said, although he kept an arrow ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
Allan stepped forwards. “You’d better explain this to us, Princess.” He said in a way that was neither an order nor a suggestion.
Chapter 2
I crept silently out of bed, for my room sat in the middle of the corridor designated to the royal children, and my sisters were light sleepers, although they hated to be woken. I slipped on a silk nightdress that wouldn’t be appropriate for anything but walking around in my personal chambers before I went into the next room.
Thi̱río’s head rose as I walked into the chamber that I’d designated to him when he moved in with me at the palace. The griffon now lived in one of my chambers, fully furnished, but with sturdier furniture than in the other rooms. The griffon himself, no longer a cub, slept in a bed much larger than my own, for obvious reasons, and I went and sat next to him.
Although Thi̱río was often missing, probably going out in search of a female griffon, I never could get used to not seeing my best friend for a long period of time. Thi̱río had never been far from me, despite what my mother thought of it.
Ever since Thi̱río had walked me back to the palace, rescuing me before the guardsmen had even come close to where I was, mother had disliked the griffon. Now, as a fully matured beast, she really detested what she thought of as my ‘pet’.
“Having trouble sleeping, Bain?” Thi̱río asked with a knowing cry. He never seemed to mind when I woke him early in the morning because I couldn’t sleep.
“Yes.” I replied simply wrapping an arm around my friend’s feathered neck. He put his paw, the claws that could easily cut me pulled in, on my leg like a human would have put a hand. Thi̱río acted more like a human than a beast, despite his form.
His feathers had stayed the same silky, soft texture, although his fur had lengthened slightly and was just barely rougher than when he had been a cub and had rescued me. I hadn’t ridden him since, both of us silently understanding that I didn’t want him to appear as a simple-minded pack animal, basically a horse with wings. It would be too degrading and a strain on our friendship, which had grown immensely since the first time I met him.
He never had a harsh word for me, and I’d never yelled at him, although I’d raised my voice a few times, regretted later. Thi̱río now sighed knowingly at my predicament.
“When I can’t sleep I always fly.” He told me, before scowling as much as he could with a beak, “I’m sorry, Bain, I forget, sometimes, that you can’t fly.” I smiled at him forgivingly, not wanting him to see how much I just wanted to fly away like he so easily could.
“That’s alright, I know what you mean.” I told him honestly. Thi̱río, I knew, would never purposely hurt me, and probably not anyone else unless they were a threat. He got along great with Allan, the one guardsman who wanted to hear our story.
“Well, we could always go out on the balcony and watch the sunrise.” He suggested with a hint of disdain at the idea of watching something he could so easily fly around in. I knew the sacrifices he made so that I could feel better. The griffon was there for me more than my own sisters were.
“You know you don’t like watching the sunrise, Thi̱río.” I told him jestingly, grinning wickedly. A huge yawn ruined the grin and Thi̱río’s sharp, whispered cry sounded vaguely like a chuckle.
“Looks like you need that sleep after all,” He told me with as much fun in his voice as ever. I was forced to agree with him; I did need more sleep.
Like so many times, instead of going back to my own chamber, I curled up beside the griffon and slept, completely trusting him. Thi̱río was a griffon, after all, so there really wasn’t anything I’d have to worry about if a steward entered and saw me. It wouldn’t be considered as impure and wrong as sleeping next to a human man.
When I woke it must have been around noon. Thi̱río was gazing at me with is strange moonlight-eyes, full of amusement. I swallowed the urge to laugh and grumbled, “What? Do I snore?” We both had to laugh at this.
Thi̱río’s laugh, of course, was a cry that was translated to me somehow. I’d long since realized that my sisters couldn’t understand him, and I figured that it was because he didn’t want them to. “No, you just looked happy.” I knew that he meant ‘happy’ compared to what I usually looked like around the palace, pressured and occupied, always having to be on my best behavior and not let anyone see me doing something that mother would disapprove of, better yet, not doing anything she might disapprove of.
Of course she couldn’t make me abandon Thi̱río, a friend that she’d rather I didn’t have. But I wasn’t the first born, rather, I was the last born, so I had more wiggle room than my sisters. That, and I was smart enough to argue back. I was now known as the ‘Griffon Princess’ by anyone who wasn’t speaking to my face. I didn’t mind being associated with Thi̱río or griffons, even. They weren’t horrible beasts as legends might have people believe.
“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment.” I replied, feeling oddly light and giggly today. Thi̱río made a face equivalent to a griffon’s grin, and I smiled back at him. I pressed my hand against the side of his velvety coat, careful not to tug on any of the lower feathers, and used him to boost myself up into a sitting position. Thi̱río, being a griffon, was near indestructible it seemed, and I knew that a light pressure barely affected him.
I was still small and lithe anyway, and would almost appear younger than I was if it wasn’t for my graceful features that no child possesses. I was almost fifteen and was by far the shortest of my sisters, not that it bothered me. I knew for a fact, though, that they couldn’t stand it when people complimented my white-blond, shimmery veil of hair. My sisters, like most girls in the city, had sandy or dirty blonde hair, only one of them, the oldest, actually had a pure golden tone to her hair.
Personally, I thought that my hair went well with Thi̱río’s glossy white feathers and bronze lion hide. That was all I really cared about making of my hair, mostly because it bugged me to always have that shimmery color at the edge of my vision; my hair seemed to almost let off its own luminescent light.
“You’re getting up already?” Thi̱río teased lightly, “Its only noon!” We’d been through this quite a few times before. I’d wake up at dawn and fall back asleep with the griffon at my side, comforting me from something that I couldn’t see or sense in any way, before waking up at noon to his big moony eyes.
“I think that it’s breakfast time.” I replied, knowing that Thi̱río was probably hungry too. I slid easily off of the bed, and went into my own room to change. Despite the fact that he wasn’t human, he was still a thinking, talking creature, and a male one at that.
I wore plainer robes today, a rich russet color rather than the usual white or winter green. I did my hair up in a simple, if tight braid, with nimble fingers, that my sisters lacked due to lack of experience in having to do their own hair. I’d long since given up the luxury of personal servants when I accepted Thi̱río as a friend and allowed him to live in my chambers and come with me almost everywhere I went.
I would much rather have the griffon around than a bunch of mindless followers. Griffons weren’t trained hounds; Thi̱río wasn’t a pack animal or a tamed wild beast. He was my friend. He didn’t follow my every order like servants were compelled and forced to do. He didn’t fake anything. At least I hoped not.
“I’m decent!” I called vaguely in the direction of the griffon’s private room. A second later and he’d opened the door. I’d always been impressed by the unnatural dexterity of the lion features of a griffon.
Unlike a natural cat’s, the griffon’s paws were slightly longer, and more finger-like, more like a hand than a foot. And he had perfect control over his tail, being able to use it to open doors and latches with amazing flexibility that had astounded me for the longest time. Unlike most myths, Thi̱río’s front paws were those of a lion’s. How could one beast walk on two different types of feet? He’d be so clumsy that no one who feared him now would be even vaguely threatened by the blundering beast. Catlike grace was part of their threatening intimidation.
“It’s about time.” My friend said jestingly, gently nudging me with his head. (Thi̱río had realized when we were younger that even a light nip from his beak could draw blood). There was still one scar under my forearm that resembled a drop (although I wasn’t sure what kind of drop it was, a rain drop, a tear drop, or a drop of blood…I kind of found myself hoping that it resembled more a rain or tear drop).
“I hear that the cook is making her special bacon today,” I informed the hungry griffon and he threw a growl, fake I knew, in my direction. His eyes were laughing.
“Do not tempt me; I might not be able to resist a bite of tender youth.” He mock-threatened me, snapping his deadly beak in my direction. I burst into a fit of giggles, surprising both me and the griffon.
A moment later we were heading out of the door and into the long, winding corridor.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.09.2010
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Widmung:
I dedicate this story to the little wild in everybody.