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 Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 11:11 am
 Patience refused to look over his shoulder, though he was leaving behind everything he had ever known. In his life, he had never even been to the foot of the mountain on which the Eyrie was situated. There had never been any need for him to do so, and under ordinary circumstances he never would have felt any inclination to do so. However, these were not ordinary circumstances. Circumstances had ceased to be ordinary months ago, when Silence left.
"Left!" In his head the euphemism rang false and he spat the word out. "She was driven out."
And that was the truth of it. Silence Skywing, the young woman who had briefly been the hope of the failing Eyrie, had been driven from her home by frightened people who could not accept that she had changed in some ways, but remained the same person fundamentally.
In some ways Patience was grateful that the people of the Eyrie had been so blind. At leas, he had been initially when Valour's discomfort with her had caused him to end their romance, leaving Silence available. It was one of the only times in his life when Patience had risked his heart, when he took Valour's place in Silence's affections.
A few years ago, Patience would have said that he was not destined for happiness, that it was only natural that he should lose the person he had secretly loved for years. However, since he had had more cause to be with Silence and had experienced something like true happiness in loving her, he knew that was not the case.
And he hated the people he had been bound to look after for destroying the brief flash of happiness he had had. It's never good, as a physician and healer, to hate one's patients, but Patience did. He hated Sagacity for being so spiteful in her jealousy to accuse Silence of witchcraft. He hated Valour for allowing her accusations to come to anything. He hated everyone else in the Eyrie for believing her.
The only person he didn't hate in the Eyrie was Courage, who shared his hatred of Valour and always had, and was only too willing to extend it to the rest of the Eyrie, as they had all dismissed and discarded him once his griffin was killed by Valour's H'raik. Especially after their mistreatment of Silence, of whom he had been fond.
Courage would have come with Patience, but he couldn't. Since Silence was gone Patience had made to effort to hide his animosity toward Valour and anyone who had played any part in her departure, and it was surprising how many people who had remained silent at Silence's trial were actually on his side.
Courage had brought to Patience's fury a direction and a focus besides just Valour, bringing to attention the deterioration of the Eyrie and the fact that it was failing under Valour's leadership. Shortly, because of the two angry young men, there had come a schism between Valour's group and the one forming behind Patience and Courage.
As soon as Patience had trained a replacement healer, he had left the burgeoning rebellion to Courage, who was better suited to such activities anyway, and he had left, making no bones about the fact that he was going to look for Silence.
He didn't need to say that the chances he had of finding her after all this time were slim, though it did know it to be the truth. As long as there was any hope he might find her, Patience would seek her. He was a mockery of himself without her, frightening and grim, and he couldn't live like that any longer. He couldn't live without Silence any longer.
So he left. He walked in the direction his gaze had turned so often in the months after Silence's departure, the direction Silence had walked in when she left, accompanied only by a large adolescent griffin and a strange man who no one knew very well who called himself Goren and claimed that he was once a dragon.
"Let them rot," he growled, thinking of the Eyrie.
They were no longer his responsibility, and he was free to hate them and wish them every ill he had ever thought but feared to voice because he had some small power to cause things to come to pass.
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Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 7:36 am
Days passed and Patience covered what felt like very little ground. He had no way of knowing if Silence had gone down the mountain at once or if she had continued through the mountain range some. He guessed that she probably would have descended, but she would not have known, as he did, that there was once a trade route through the mountains which would lead to the same places, and probably at a similar speed. He decided to follow this.
He would not have admitted it, but he was a trifle reluctant to leave the mountains he had grown up in and where he was comfortable. He knew nothing of the land below in terms of practical knowledge and his ignorance made him uncomfortable. He was used to being the expert on whatever subject he decided to make a study of. To be anything less was a novel and not entirely pleasant thing.
He followed the mostly unused path through the mountains which also led gradually down from the peaks. The Eyrie was located on a mountain peak, above the treeline, even, so it was well that he go lower, as the path was leading him anyway. The path, having been designed for foot traffic as well as caravans, had several places which were designated as spots to camp, and so he had no difficulties in finding such and setting up camp, though his was simple: a fire, some blankets, and food if he was hungry.
Mostly, Patience wasn't hungry. He knew that at some point he would either have to hunt or descend much further and either purchase or trade for supplies, and he wished to put off that sort of delay. He truly was not hungry, being still fueled mostly by emotion, even after several days' hiking. Or, perhaps he was unconsciously preserving his supplies.
On his sixth day he heard a sound he had not expected to hear ever again, at least, not until he found Silence. He heard a griffin keening. Instinctively he followed the sound, unable to make himself ignore it, even with the very good chances that it was someone from the Eyrie who had wandered too far afield or maybe a wild griffin. The healer in him would not allow him to leave a creature in such pain, regardless of other circumstances.
He stepped off the path and followed the sound until he came to a ledge. He looked down, having no other direction to look, and saw a sight which broke his heart.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2007 7:11 am
Patience's pale eyes gazed upon a scene which pained his healer's heart. Below him, on a ledge, lay a man in tattered clothes. Patience couldn't tell from his current vantage point if the man was alive or not. That was of slightly less import to him, actually, than the ledge's other occupant, a griffin which looked distressingly thin.
He called down to the pair, just a general greeting. He was not stupid enough to ask if they were all right. Obviously they were not. The griffin pricked its ears in his direction and rose unsteadily on its hind legs to investigate, but made no effort to rise in flight. The man turned his head, proving, at least, that he wasn't dead. Yet.
"I'm going to come down," Patience said, more to the griffin than to the man. "I might be able to help."
He didn't know how much the griffin would understand, but an Eyrie griffin would have at least understood Down and Help. He could hope that this scruffy-looking griffin would understand at least that much. Otherwise he could end up being attacked, which would not be a new experience for Patience, but it would not be a pleasant one either.
Fortunately, the griffin made no effort to harry him as he climbed down the rock face. It was not an easy climb, and he wasn't entirely certain he would be able to scale it in the opposite direction, but he couldn't just leave the pair. It went against everything he had been brought up to. At the bottom of the climb he saw that things were worse than they had seemed from above.
The man, whom he had originally guessed to be in his thirties or older, was young. Probably he was younger than Patience was. Hard times had aged him prematurely. And yet, his clothing had once been fine, Patience could see. The remnants of silk and fine leather were undeniable evidence that this man's circumstances had changed drastically. Had his clothing not indicated as much, the fact that he was in possession of a griffin would have done. The indigent didn't tend to own griffins.
The griffin, which Patience could now see was female, hovered anxiously as Patience examined her companion, mostly getting in Patience's way. Patience, used to dealing with griffins who hovered, shoved her gently away when it was necessary and explained to her what he was doing. He knew she couldn't understand him, but the constant stream of words was soothing to the distraught creature, which was his design.
The young man was in bad shape. He was emaciated and the condition of his fingernails and hair bespoke a long period of poor nutrition. Yet there was that incontrovertible evidence that he had not always been in such shape. The emaciation was bad, and the malnutrition was bad, but Patience knew it was a lost battle when the young man began to cough deep, wet coughs. The young man had contracted pnuemonia, which was a deadly disease even when the person was otherwise healthy. Even with his unusual gifts, Patience could not save this man, and it grieved him.
As he was thinking this, the young man opened his eyes and turned them to Patience. His eyes focused poorly, too, Patience noted, unable to stop himself from continuing to assess the man's condition.
"Ambrosia," he whispered.
At first Patience was confused. Ambrosia was a drink, the nectar of the gods some said, and while it would probably cure the man there wasn't a great deal of it in existence. Ambrosia was also a name, and it was possible that it was the name of a loved one. More likely, though, judging by the griffin's reaction, it was her name. The griffin had approached at once when the dying man spoke the name.
"What's your name?" Patience asked, hoping the man was not too far gone. He could not save him, but he could give him comfort.
"Nikolai," he wheezed. "I'm dying, aren't I?"
In some circumstances, Patience had been known to lie to dying men and tell them that they were not dying. Sometimes they didn't, simply because they believed him. However, nothing short of a miracle would save Nikolai, and Patience was reluctant to lie to him.
"Yes. I am a healer, and I can take away your pain, but I am not so gifted that I can kill the sickness in your body."
Nikolai nodded his understanding.
"When I am dead, take Ambrosia to Gethsemene FaHannoth in Xuan City. He will know what to do with her."
Privately, Patience doubted that. FaHannoth was a name of ancient nobility who had once ruled in Unshennel far to the south. They had never been known to have many dealings with griffins. And besides all that, he supposed that Gethsemene would think he had stolen Ambrosia.
"I will do what I can," Patience said, taking care not to make any promises he would later regret or find himself unable to keep.
"Please. And tell Geth I'm sorry and...please tell him I love him."
Nikolai looked as though he anticipated some expression of disgust or judgment, but Patience would offer neither. Men were not his preference, and there had not been many in the Eyrie who preferred members of their own gender, but he accepted that some people did.
"I will do what I can," Patience repeated.
"Thank you."
Patience had been sending his gift into Nikolai to deaden any pain the young man might feel, and so he was not quite certain if Nikolai thanked him for that or for his almost-promise to find this Gethsemene FaHannoth. He merely nodded in acknowledgement of Nikolai's thanks.
Little else was said by either human for what seemed a very long time. Patience could feel Nikolai's strength leaving him and his life with it, and he made no effort to stop it, though it was difficult to overcome his instinct. Trying to stop death killed healers all the time, and Patience could not die. Not until he saw Silence one more time at least.
It was Ambrosia who noticed Nikolai's death first, and she began keening and pulling at the fur on her rump. Patience immediately left Nikolai's body and went to the distressed griffin and held her around the neck. If she decided to break free, he couldn't stop her, but she was used to human beings and she stilled when he did this.
He didn't know if she would make it, but he hoped she would as he fed her chunks of the dried venison he had packed. The combination of starvation and grief might kill her. Healthy griffins had been known to waste away of grief, and Ambrosia was mostly wasted away any way. He meant to prevent her death if it was at all possible though.
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 6:28 am
It was not easy to get Ambrosia to leave her former owner, and it was not easy to get back onto the path Patience had been on before, but he managed it. It would have been both more difficult and easier if Ambrosia had been in better condition. But she wasn't and wishing could not make it otherwise. Only concentrated effort on Patience's behalf and her own could do that.
At first she refused to eat and she still pulled fur from her rump, signs of mourning and worrisome ones at that. If Patience could not manage to get her to eat, at the least, she would die, and it was not easy to force a griffin to do anything it didn't want to do without assistance. Even in the Eyrie, Patience had never had to force griffins to do things without the help of some rider, usually the griffin's own rider.
But, still, he managed to convince her to eat, tempting her with bloody tidbits cut from hares he snared when they made camp. She seemed to take no real delight in the process of eating, but she would at least eat. She made no effort to hunt, however, and she continued to pull at her fur. Thus, Patience remained concerned, despite the small improvement.
Interestingly, the griffin forced him to increase his pace as he walked, refusing to wait for him and rushing ahead always, as though she knew she was going to a familiar place. If Patience had been another sort of person, her behavior would have been hurtful or offensive, since it seemed she did not wish to be with him, but he was glad she wanted anything at all, and that she was far less listless than she had been at the outset.
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2007 10:43 am
At the increased pace the griffin, Ambrosia, set, they were soon out of the highest parts of the mountains and well below the timber line. Which was good, though Patience was not as used to trees as many of his brethren in the Eyrie were. They went out on flights and patrols which took them into wooded areas. His infirmary was not a place to find trees.
Ambrosia was eating once more, though she was still in the sort of condition where Patience would have questioned her rider if he had encountered her thus at the Eyrie. If the rider had not been able to offer a satisfactory explanation, Patience would have had the flesh flayed from his back. Griffins were precious creatures, not to be mistreated or abused. There weren't enough of them as it was.
But he was pleased with Ambrosia's progress. If things continued as they had, she might be up to something resembling her full, proper weight by the time they reached the foothills. That would please him. What would have pleased him more, though, would have been if she would hunt for herself, rather than eating only what he gave her. He couldn't believe that she had no hunting instincts.
It was likely just that she was still melancholy, though she rarely exhibited the signs of severe depression any more. She probably hadn't much will to hunt. And it was just as well she didn't. If she met a family of rock hoppers or something she was in no condition to contend with them and their venom. To ensure that she wouldn't have to, Patience avoided rocky areas whenever he could. Fortunately, this task became easier as they descended.
As did acquiring food. There was more to snare, and what he did catch in his snares tended to be larger than what he had caught higher up the mountains. If he had been any sort of hunter he would have brought a bow with him, but as a healer his life had been dedicated to preserving life, not ending it, and so he had never been anything more than an indifferent shot with a bow. He preferred to use a sling, with which he was much more accurate, but which limited him to smaller forms of prey, as it would have taken more skill than he possessed to fell anything much larger than a badger with a stone.
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2007 5:58 am
It was warmer in the low country, Patience noticed. The Eyrie was not a place one could ever have called hot, and few who had not grown up there would even have called it warm, but the lowlands were far hotter than any weather Patience had ever experienced. Ambrosia seemed to have no dififculties with the change in climate. Like he had done all his life, he endeavored to make no matter of his discomfort.
Still, as the degree of the incline grade became less steep Patience found himself wondering what he would do when he reached the foothills. There would be some difficulties in snaring game in the less forested areas, and he would not for anything allow Ambrosia to go hungry. She still wouldn't hunt. It wouldn't be an issue if she would hunt, but she showed absolutely no inclination in that direction.
It occurred to Patience for the first time that Ambrosia, perhaps, had never learned how to hunt. She may have been kept as a pet, fed everything from a human hand. She may not even recognize that the small, living creatures she saw darting away whenever she came near were the same creatures Patience fed her pieces of. It was an abhorrent thought to Patience, as it was a distinct perversion of the griffin's predatory nature, but if that was the case it explained much, including how she had come to be so very thin. If she hadn't known how or why to hunt, she would, of course, have gone hungry.
He wasn't sure how to go about teaching her to hunt, really. It wasn't an issue he had ever had to deal with at the Eyrie. Even griffin chicks who lost their parents or whose parents rejected them learned to hunt from other griffins. So he turned his mind to that matter whenever he could tear it from thoughts of Silence, who occupied his thoughts constantly, though somewhat less so since he had acquired Ambrosia.
Ambrosia would not stand for being ignored. Upon reacquiring her health, Ambrosia had begun also to reacquire her personality, and hers was like that of many female griffins. She would not be ignored for any length of time, and seemed to believe firmly that idle hands were made for grooming her or feeding her. If the person who was grooming or feeding her seemed distracted, she was more than willing to call his attention back to her with a n**.
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