This is a story I wrote and yeah i just wanted to post it up on this thingy and yeah sweatdrop
Prologue
“Wisdom Son,
The air that moves
And the sun that dances.
Moondawn awoken, the Script has just begun
Prophecies unfold,
To the world untold;
Wisdom Son,
The air that moves,
And the sun that dances.
He who will rise,
Over King of Fire-”
“That’s enough!”
The Teller slowly turned its head to meet the King Firethroat.
“I was just doing what you asked me to,” it replied in a hoarse voice.
“Yes, I told you to recite the prophecy, not words of nonsense!”
“That is the prophecy,” the Teller rasped, “Are you telling me that a Teller such as I am would tell people nonsense? I’d be dead now.”
The Teller’s voice was growing softer now, and knew he had said too much. “Do you want me to translate it for you, then?” it asked. Without waiting for an answer, it said, “When Moondawn rises, a griffin, such as yourself, will be born. Ah!” it croaked as Firethroat snorted, “That griffin will not be a thing like you; the griffin will have a pure heart, not as filthy or as black as yours! That very griffin will kill you one day and take your place as king!”
Firethroat was enraged, “What? A measly little baby griffin will be king? What else is that griffin going to do, besides kill me and take my place as king?” his voice was level but his eyes glowed with fury. “I am afraid that I can’t tell you any more. You interrupted the prophecy as I was saying it,” the Teller whispered.
One
1
In an old- run down bookshop, there lay piles and piles of books. With a sigh, the old bookstore owner started organizing the books and putting them on the shelves. As he reached for another book, something caught his eye; it was a stone tablet, but it was like a book- with thousands and thousands of pages. He carefully opened the tablet (for he knew that it was very ancient) and realized that he couldn’t read the words. Wrapping it in a cloth, the owner walked out of the shop and slowly ambled out into the gray, dusty, deserted streets.
“It is a story,” the seer rasped, “a very ancient story.”
The bookstore owner waited patiently for the seer to continue.
“It is divided into three stories: Fire, Water, and Earth,” the Seer continued, “If you want me to translate it, you will have to wait.” The Seer’s wise gray eyes bore into the owner’s own blue ones. “Furthermore, you must tell no one about it.”
Understanding that the Seer would say no more, the owner backed out of the small, dingy tent and walked back to his shop in the moonlit night.
Slowly, with trembling, bony hands, she dipped her quill into the inkpot and started writing.
2
It was the night of the full moon. The sky was a magnificent indigo cloth shimmering with a silvery sheen of the moon. According to the Script, a prophecy was about to unfold. And in the sky! Two silent bat-like silhouettes soared in the air, watching overhead. Yes! They were the majestic griffins! They hovered in the air, watching the colorful landscape below them.
There was a vast ring of geranium in purples, pinks, and reds, about one mile in diameter. In the next, smaller, ring were seven rows of hydrangea, baby blue, and blush pink and silvery purple, in clumps that resembled bushes. Next, there were ten rows of stargazer lilies, with their magenta and white petals. Filling in the rest of the circle was soft pale green grass that was dotted here and there with marigolds and daisies. In the center of the enormous circle rested a stone.
There was nothing except darkness. He would always remember how dark it was, smelling nothing, seeing nothing, thinking nothing, and feeling nothing. He wasn’t born yet. Years went by, and still, he wasn’t born yet. Finally, he could feel it; it was breaking and cracking. One by one, pieces of stone fell off until he was visible. With a tiny shriek of triumph, he spread his small, soggy, murky- gray transparent bat-shaped wings .
The cool, evening breeze swept over the plain, ruffling his feathers slightly. The wind carried his shrill cry to every corner in the world, “Windflame is born!”
3
She frowned slightly; where had she heard the name before? Setting down the quill, the old seer rubbed her temples, thinking. She could remember everything, from the beginning of the world, to the most recent accident. Why couldn’t she remember where she had heard the name? Oh well, she thought, if I can’t remember it, it must not be important. Picking up the quill, she started writing again.
4
The two griffins stood still for a moment, shocked. They glanced at each other, nodded, and took off over the forest treetops until they saw what they were looking for. Another griffin, the color of the sky, was perched on a branch. The two griffins settled on one side of the third griffin and silently passed this information. The third griffin made a grim face and said, “This is not good.”
5
The Fire Kingdom consisted of at least four acres of tall evergreen pines that rose to the sky. There was a ring in the middle, perhaps one hundred meters wide in diameter. Directly in the center of the ring was a nine-foot hill made of bones of prey and even some griffins! The rest of the ring was sand and grass. At the border if the ring were dens made of moss, bushes, and sticks. This ring was called the Griffins’ Ring.
6
“What?” Lord Firethroat, king of the griffins, demanded his dark eyes like chipped ice, “Already?” It was evening, just about a minute after Windflame had been born. The griffins of the Fire Kingdom had gathered together at the bone hill for a meeting. Lord Firethroat wasn’t in a good mood; the other griffins shuffled their paws nervously.
“Yes, you’re Majesty,” Bluewing said, impatient with the king in spite of his best efforts, “he was born tonight, just as Moondawn rose.” The other griffins hissed in shock and started muttering to each other in small voices.
“The Teller was right!” Firethroat grumbled, his tail lashing furiously “A griffin would be born at this moment! And he would take over the position of king! Well, he won’t! I’ll deal with him.” Firethroat’s midnight eyes gleamed evilly. Bluewing gulped nervously. Whatever His Mighty One had in mind, it was not good. When the last plot was formed to take over the Sun Kingdom, they had lost sorely. Surely the king remembered this?
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking-!” Firethroat hissed menacingly and rounded on Bluewing. Bluewing shrank back, his navy blue fur standing on end, “N-n-no Your Majesty, I-I-I support your decision.” Firethroat eyed him with suspicion but he didn’t suspect any betrayal. When Firethroat turned away, Bluewing immediately relaxed, sat down on the soft grass of the lair and groomed himself.
With the speed of lighting, Firethroat whipped around and clawed at Bluewing. Silver needle-like claws dug themselves into Bluewing’s neck. Bluewing screeched in agony but his cry was cut short with a gurgle as dark red blood oozed from his neck and formed a puddle on the ground. Then, with a shudder of pain, Bluewing took his last breath and lay still, his eyes wide open with shock. The audience of griffins made no move, for they were paralyzed with fear. Firethroat watched coldly. A soft moan came from the sea of griffins, “Bluewing! My brother!”
“He deserved it, Heartsoft!” Firethroat snarled decisively and turned to the voice. Heartsoft stepped out of the crowd. She was as beautiful as she was proud, her eagle half soft pink and her wings lavender; the lion half spread down to dark violet. Her lean muscles rippled under her rough pelt as she walked.
“You,” Heartsoft snarled furiously, “are not worthy enough for the name of Firethroat!”
“Then you are not worthy enough to be alive!” Firethroat roared and pounced. But the king underestimated the vengeful she- griffin. As quick as a flash, she slid under the outstretched paws and turned, knocking the unsuspecting griffin off his paws. Without hesitation, Heartsoft bowled into Firethroat and just as she was about to sink her beak into the king’s throat, a strong griffin hauled her off and another fight begun. Heartsoft and the other griffin rolled around on the ground, spitting, shrieking, and biting. The other griffins formed a circle around the fight, wondering anxiously who would win. The other griffin managed to pin Heartsoft down and choke her to death.
Lord Firethroat shakily got to his paws and stepped over the blood- soaked bodies of the brother and sister. “Thank you, Ironbeak; I knew you were loyal to me.” The short, burly midnight- colored griffin nodded. Suddenly turning around to meet the other griffins, Firethroat asked icily, “Anyone else?” Terrified, the griffins backed away and fled to their dens in the ring. Firethroat laughed like a maniac, “Hear me now!” he howled as he flew into the night sky, blending in perfectly with his dark surroundings. “I am Firethroat, Lord of the griffins, King of the Fire Kingdom, Ruler of the Water Kingdom, and Emperor of the night sky! No longer am I the lowly Ravenpelt who served his father, the last king! I am Lord Firethroat!”
7
“Lord Lightfire?” Windflame repeated quizzically when the loner told him his name, “But you’re a loner, how can you be a lord?” The loner sighed, his amber eyes foggy and downcast, dark in contrast to the bright afternoon sky, and said, “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.” The young griffin nodded, his eyes flicking inquisitively at the loner, and walked along with Lightfire out of the flower rings, which ended abruptly right at a clump of cattails. The clumps turned into giant bushes, which the two walked around, sharply turning left, or suddenly veering toward the right. The bushes turned into forests of cattails and Lightfire picked his way toward the thickest cattails. Finally, the duo reached Lightfire’s cave, a roomy and dim torch-lit hole in the ground. Windflame snuggled up in a nest of moss and asked while Lightfire set a fire in the center of some rocks, “Lord Lightfire, what kind of creature are you supposed to be?”
Lightfire was a small one, as tall as an average human first-grader. He stood on four muscular dog-like legs. He had the head of a dragon, with a horse-like snout and battle- scarred ears. There was a peculiar pendant hanging on the loner’s chest, which he proudly explained was an heirloom of the family. The rest of his body was that of a snake’s, scaly and smooth. At the end of his tail there was a gold ring with ancient writing on it. Lightfire had refused to talk about the ring when Windflame inquired about it.
8
The Seer yawned; This is quite an interesting story, she thought. And all those names, they are so familiar! Perhaps she ought to look them up in her book of heroes. The seer shook her head and closed her eyes. With a jolt, she realized where she had heard them before! I’ll look them up after lunch; she promised herself and started writing again.
9
“We will track down the newborn griffin and kill him!” Lord Firethroat announced that day to the others. Immediately, tension filled the air. The crowd stirred uneasily at these words. Of all the master plans their lord had come up with, this seemed the worst.
“I know you are thinking that we might not succeed,” Firethroat continued, “but we have devised brilliant plan!” Now the king was talking rapidly and excitedly and he didn’t notice that his audience was becoming even uneasy. Even Ironbeak, the new deputy, was flicking his eyes over the king, as if he was unsure whether he had gone insane. If Firethroat noticed this, he acted as if he didn’t, “I will go to the Lordess Flamegragon!” He looked eagerly at the faces of his listeners. They were confused. Obviously they had never heard of this “Lordess Flamedragon.” This time, the lord was impatient, “you haven’t heard of the Lordess Flamegragon?” he scoffed, “what immature fools! The Lordess Flamedragon is a loner who-”
4At the word “loner” the griffins hissed and spat4. One griffin muttered, “Loners and rouges! What will our king think next?”
“She is no ordinary loner; she is an enchantress who lives in the cattail ponds,” Firethroat explained smoothly.
“Isn’t that where the Backwater5 lives?” Ironbeak asked nervously. There was a murmur in the audience and fear rose from all the griffins.
“We’re going to get ourselves killed ‘cause of our leader!” a griffling6 wailed. Firethroat glared at the griffling menacingly,” Do not try my patience, Oh Great One,” he snarled sarcastically.
“ We leave at sunset. Ironbeak, Flametail, Moonheart, Eveningsky, you will come with me.” The four griffins rose at their names, muscular and well composed.
“We are ready,” they announced in unison, dark pelts blending with the sky. Together they stalked into the forest, disappearing from sight.
10
“Firethroat,” Lightfire gasped, “Hurry, Young One!” And the loner started running out of the hole. Windflame hurried after him and asked, “Who’s Firethroat?”
“Oh yes, that’s right, you don’t know him,” the loner said hastily, “I’ll explain to you when we get there.” The loner ran on, never slowing down his pace. Windflame panted and tried to keep up with Lightfire, “Where?” Either the lord didn’t hear him or he chose to ignore his question, because he didn’t answer.
11
“Why are we hurrying?” Moonheart gasped. Firethroat stopped for a split second and said, “Someone wants to get there before us.”
4 loners were a threat to the kingdoms, stealing their food and marking others’ territories as their own.
5 A legendary creature part dragon part serpent. Feared by all creatures that lived in the woods ,also known as “Dark Legend.”
6 A baby griffin
“Isn’t it obvious?” Flametail answered dryly as he picked up the pace, following his leader.
12
Lightfire’s pace quickened even more. Windflame was now stopping for breath, panting and gasping, “Are we there yet?”
Lightfire grimaced, “almost.”
After what seemed like forever, Lightfire stopped. The forest of cattails now spread into one big trail. In their haste, Windflame had almost lost Lightfire.
“Who is it?” A cold, icy voice rang from the cattails. Lightfire chuckled as Windflame crouched fearfully, “You know it’s us, Flamedragon! Stop scaring the feathers off Windflame!” The voice stepped out of the cattails,” “Well nowadays, you can’t be too sure.” The voice was a creature like lightfire except that the her ears were longer with no battle scars, her eyes were an emerald green and her pupils were blue, she had slim, dark legs, and her baby-blue scales had a gray hue and were shaped like diamonds.
“What brings you here, Lord Lightfire?” she asked, wrapping her tail around her paws. Her voice sounded feminine, much to Windflame’s surprise. Lightfire jerked his head toward Windflame, “Him.” Windflame cautiously approached Flamedragon. He was a bit uneasy when Flamedragon circled him, looking him up and down.
“Come in,” she said breezily. The mass of cattails formed a portal and they stepped in.
13
Firethroat skidded to a halt. He just barely saw the three figures disappear through the cattails.
“What’s the matter?” Ironbeak asked, confused at the sudden stop for he was concentrating only on their leader, unaware of his surroundings. Eveningsky rolled her dark blue eyes, “Didn’t you just see them walking through that portal?” Ironbeak felt even more confused. He was strong but slow-witted.
“Stop it, Eveningsky; let me handle this,” Firethroat interjected, “this is no time to start a fight. It seems that not everyone is worthy enough to see the portal. And unfortunately, my deputy couldn’t see it. How incompetent! Firethroat spat out the word deputy. The other three griffins were towering over Ironbeak, an evil gleam in their eye, “What shame,” Eveningsky jeered, “ The king’s deputy couldn’t even see the portal!”
“What are you doing?” Ironbeak quavered, his usual calm self now shaking with fright.
“What are you doing?” Moonheart taunted, “the little baby wants us to stop it!” she laughed shrilly.
“Now, now, let’s not tease the baby.” Flametail said, his fire-red eyes gleaming with amusement, “ Lord Firethroat wants us to go. We’ll see if he can catch up to us.” And with that, the four griffins slinked into the cattails, leaving Ironbeak alone in the chilly, moonless night. Welcome to cattail life7, Ironbeak thought sarcastically, I hope someone finds me.
Someone did find him, but not anyone he expected.
14
The lordess Flameddragon’s “castle” was actually a hole like Lord Lightfire’s hole, just a lot bigger yet with a cramped feeling. Inside, it was lined with the shelves holding books, potions, and herbs.
“Not much,” the Lordess said roughly, producing a candle and lighting one torch on a wall. As soon as the fire touched the torch stick, all the other torches lit up. Windflame’s jaw dropped. The Lordess went over to one of her bookshelves and pulled out a very ancient one covered with dust, cobwebs, and even some fungi.
“I haven’t read since the beginning; I don’t see what you want me to do,” she said to Lightfire, her gave never leaving Windflame.
“Well, now that we’re here, let’s get on with it.”
15
“Blackwater hungry, Blackwater find food,” a voice hissed from the shoadows. Ironbeak jumped up on his paws, every muscle tense. He scanned the cattails that encircled him, with narrow, ember eyes. Again hissed, “Black water smell food he like,” Just then, everything fell silent. Not even the wind made a sound. Something was terribly wrong. A movement in the cattails caught Ironbeak’s eye. He turned around and gasped.
16
“What?” Windflame demanded, “In my past life I was an enchantress?”
“Not just an enchantress,” Lightfire explained patiently, “the enchantress. Now stop that pacing before you spin my head off!” The Lordess chuckled at the last comment, “He seemed to take it better than I thought he would,” she remarked. Then she got serious again, “ They will want to kill you,” she began, “ so I thought that you should assume the form of your past life, take shelter in the firekingdom, and learn your enemies’ ways. Griffins can, however, turn into humans if they wanted to. You still haven’t fully mastered your powers so you will need a potion, but although it will take some time.” She added after thought
Windflame kept pacing, his ruffled feathers now a slight ginger color and his fur a hue of brown.
“Fortunately,” Flamedragon continued, cutting off Windflame as he was about to contradict her idea, “I had almost finished the potion when you came charging in!”
“Look,” Lightfire said, a little exasperated in spite of himself, “If we hadn’t come, Windflame here wouldn’t have learned about his past until it was too late.” The Lordess sniffed, “Like I said, with visitors nowadays-”
“-You can’t be too sure! I know, I know!” Windflame interrupted crossly, “Now can we finish the potion and get it over with?”
17
It was the most hideous thing that Ironbeak had seen in all his life. The creature had wide-set, gray eyes, as if he couldn’t see anything but fog. There was a third eye set on the middle of his forehead, a black, bottomless pit. The creature had a flat, slimy, dragonhead and a dog like muzzle. Its ears were long sharp horn, flicking this way and that. Mud, slime, and other filth was plastered crudely all over its long, sinuous, snake-like body. The creature smiled a toothy grin, his yellow inch-long teeth were even more disheveled than his body. Ironbeak could smell its hot, fetid breath, even from seventy-five feet yards away. It had four short, stubby, muscular limbs that sprouted razor-sharp claws; it look ridiculous. Scales that stuck up straight like a frightened cat’s fur standing on end were pitch black, blending in perfectly with the night sky and the swampy mud. Ironbeak wrinkled his beak in disgust, the stench of dead carcasses emanated from the creature.
“Blackwater hungry,” it hissed, not moving its mouth. The voice seemed to be projected from the third eye, “Blackwater smell griffin,” a green tongue flicked out of Blackwater’s mouth and swiped his muzzle. Ever so slowly, Blackwater advanced on the terrified griffin, jaws open ready to devour.
Reply
