Chapter 2

Deep within the halls of Struport’s great walls was one of this world’s greatest secrets. A thing of legend that only a few ever-heard whispers about. It lurked in the annuls of history, its location, if revealed, would be the stuff that kingdoms would fight and perish over. It rested, hidden away, beneath the feet of the unaware peoples, slumbering, waiting to be woken.

Shard of Bahamut some might call it, a fragment of the goddess’ power given physical shape. This one was a pool of translucent liquid, shimmering and glistening whenever it caught the light. Mist collected at its surface, never straying far from it’s source. Those that looked upon this shard had a sense of comfort grip them, a whisper in the back of their mind that everything would be fine. Its home resided within the caverns of the dragon Ramakox, tucked away and reserved for those who could be trusted. Since his passing it had fallen to his mate Fremra, who cherished the shard’s safety just as much as he.

Twin guards stood at the raised section of stone around the shard, armed to the teeth and clad in suits of pristine plate mail. Blue tabards were wrapped around them, proudly displaying their heraldry in the sapphire guardians. They took the defense of the pool seriously, as much as Ramakox himself, they didn’t even move a muscle within the lantern light around them. Both men were statuesque, had beards neatly trimmed, and showed no emotion, even as a gryphon’s indignant squawk resounded off the cavern walls.

“Could you stop poking me? The feathers are quite tender!” Krotos sat upon a crimson, linen cushion, his feathers all smeared with various colors of paint. He resembled an artist’s easel more than a gryphon, much to the disgust within his brown eyes. His yellow beak snapped at a pair of fair fingers as a woman swept around him, peering with interest at how tightly bound his feathers were. “It’s never been more apparent that your talent is not in bedside manners.”

The raven-haired woman beheld the gryphon with a furrowed brow, dusting off what gryphon fur had collected on her lavender dress. Some had even clung to her grey leggings. She preferred her attire to the usual robes known to wizard kind. “I’m a wizard Krotos, most the things we study or experiment on are dead or inert. If you wish for the demeanor of a caring mother, I suggest you find it in our resident cleric.” Icy blue eyes traveled across the gryphon from paw to beak, lingering on what appeared to be a signature that claimed Veledar is hot. She sighed, how on earth did the dragon manage this?

“Him?” Krotos squawked, his crown feathers extending as he snapped to a minotaur reclining upon a stone chair, willed into being by his magical hands. “Have you gotten to know him at all?”

The white horned minotaur Asterion gave him a heavy snort, his gaze as hard as the mace that he routinely wielded. Scars were strewn about his hazel fur, marring every muscle, telling of a life filled with battles the warrior would never regret. Though only clad in a loincloth as was typical to his people, a furred cloak sat upon his broad shoulders. Even his people didn’t like the biting cold. Between his fingers was a half formed crimson sweater that he was knitting. Odd choice in hobbies the gryphon knew, but who would question the bull that could manhandle a gryphon with a single arm?

“He’d cut me open with his brutish sausages. Say that I was whining like a babe. What his people now of gentleness could be summed up in a single word, bolded for emphasis, no.”

Asterion grunted, “Keep it up gryphon and you’ll get a firsthand demonstration on how gentle our people can be.”

“See?” Krotos’ ears pinned to his head, “Nothing but threats over my suffering! I bet he doesn’t even have a shred of empathy for the travesty that my feathers have been reduced to!” He ruffled his feathers, eyes aflame, “So save the jokes for when it’s appropriate.”

“So bizarre of you to casually suggest your queen was meaning to lead you astray or have you look the fool.” She replied softly, brushing back her curly locks, “Back home, I could throw you in the dungeon, never to see the light again for such a slight.” She typically didn’t like to throw her royal weight around, especially not to her friends, but she did rather enjoy the look of surprise that spread across his beak, uncertain if she was being serious or not.

“You’re pulling my leg again.” He stated, ears splayed.

“Am I?” She sweetly smiled, letting her intentions remain mysterious. “Wish to keep going with your tweeting and find out?”

“No.” He grumbled, shifting impatiently as she grabbed a magnifying glass from one of the tables that had been procured for them.

Up close, the spellmanship on display was rather exquisite. It didn’t look like anything she’d seen in some time. It wasn’t an illusion, and seemed to linger far longer than little spells such as this used to. She found herself smirking, reminding herself to ask Veledar what exactly he’d done, perhaps over an evening of tea and biscuits. Already she could see his scaled snout, amusement at knowing something she didn’t, and making the mage work to get it out of him.

“Well?” Krotos asked in a shrill voice, “You’ve been staring at this travesty for five minutes! What can be done?”

“These sorts of things can’t be solved on a whim you know.” She replied, casually patting the gryphon’s smooth beak. “But here, sit still.” When he complied, even with a furrowed brow, she began. She drew the shape of a rune upon the air, wiggling her fingers as she spoke the words of power. Green light ignited from her fingertips, spreading forth to the gryphon like a wave. It rippled and coiled around his feathers, traveling down his flank and ending at his tail. Nothing happened, the paint was still there. In fact, as she rubbed her chin, she was certain it had gotten brighter.

“Didn’t you already try that spell?” Groaned Krotos, “When I first came in?”

“I’d thought the dragon’s spell would have waned; I was wrong. But lucky you, your friend’s mastery with his magic is so great. It should make for a great asset in the days ahead.”

“C…Compliment him? That’s what you think is needed in this, clear case of gryphon abuse? We should summon the guards, fine him, throw him in irons, anything to make this dragon think twice before he goes around doing such a thing to innocent gryphons!”

She chuckled at the way he fumed, planting a claw firmly upon the stone. “Innocent gryphons huh?” She ran a finger along his beak, seeing how his ears betrayed him and splayed at the word, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you described as such, was this perhaps another gryphon? Otherwise, I’d not be so dramatic, it’s just a smattering of paint. It’s not like it’s a hinderance.”

“It maimed me in the public eye!” Krotos squawked, “Not a male or female can gander at me and resist the urge to cackle away at my expense! You didn’t see him Nivra, there he was, cackling with ill intent. Out of his scaled mind. I was lucky to get out of there with only this dastardly affliction to my scales.”

“Did you happen to taunt him?” Her arms crossed, “He’s not one to sully your feathers so much, long as we’ve known each other.”

Krotos looked away, ears splayed. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with anything. Words are not befitting of a crime such as this. Can you have Arcturus arrest him? Charge him with a fine? Perhaps send the royal guards after him? Lock him in chains for the weekend?”

“Not this far from Lumara no.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing his ear and instructing him to stay still, when he went to tug, she had to wave a finger of warning, “You don’t want to lose all your feathers do you?”

“That can happen?” His eyes swelled to dinner plates. “Do you know how long it would take to regrow them?”

“If you keep moving, you’ll get the pleasure of finding out.” She moved onto a different feather, whispering words for her detection of magic. Perhaps if she knew what school he’d used, it would help her figure out how to clean this up.

“Course, this wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t stuck here anyway. Which reminds me, why are we still mucking about with these Drenedarians?” Krotos continued, “I thought you were here to stop our reliance on mana stones., and how are we going to do that while playing babysitter to a crazy old man?” He gestured with a wing to the room’s other occupant, a blue robed man with a long flowing beard.

Florimel as he was called, was currently tearing apart and putting back together a tower of blocks spread out across an oaken table. One that was weathered with age, possible older than even the dragons that called this home. They’d found him in another realm, the man’s power only hinted at thus far. Nivra suspected the crazy old man bit was nothing more than an act.

He stroked his beard with interest, “Did anyone get back to me about the bourbon and firework tree idea?”

“Yes.” Krotos chirped, “That it would be insanely dangerous.”

“Well, I’d hope so, that was entirely the point!”

“See? Just a bucket full of crazy.”

Nivra sighed, already used to such nonsensical outbursts. The insult to his mental faculties going unanswered as the old man began pacing, muttering under his breath about popcorn. “It’s not all crazy. He managed to teleport us out of that mystical vault from another realm, turned weapons into fish at the snap of a finger. Mark my words, this façade he puts on is nothing but that, a trick.” Her eyes flicked to see if he’d heard, but the mage still wandered about, being turned away by the sapphire guardians as he approached the shard of Bahamut.

“I think you might be giving him too much credit.” Replied Krotos flatly, “Do you recall him blathering about invisible dogs? The cups that would leak if sitting for too long? Oh, and did I mention, he shouts at his cats as though they can talk to him? I’m telling you Nivra, the man has a few dozen screws loose.”

“Perhaps.” Her eyes steeled over the man. She’d seen him do magic without uttering a word or drawing upon a focus. That hinted at a mastery of magic leagues above not only her own, but of her previous master Nigel, a powerful lich in his own right.

Krotos rolled his eyes with a sigh, “Don’t tell me it’s because you got a thing for doddering fools, hinting with magical power?”

“Don’t be so crude.” She tapped the gryphon’s beak. “I think he might just be what we need to get rid of our reliance upon the mana stones. It might take years of study, but I’d be willing to prove myself to him. Not even Nigel could perform magic as he does.”

“So, no crush then?” Krotos said with a sly grin, poking at her side, revealing she’d been staring for far too long.

“No!” She slapped his beak, cheeks practically burning, “Did you want help or not?”

“At this point, no help would be exactly the same of what I’m getting.”

“In short, I don’t have to defend myself to you. He’s powerful, and not trying to kill us. You can complain all you wish, but the old man goes when I say he does.”

“Then, lets just knock him out and drag him back to the kingdom. Then you can do all your studying and soul searching from the safety of our castle walls. I very much doubt those undead outside will be a match for our airships! Besides, look how old he is, he can’t put up that much of a fight, it will be easy! Just say the word.”

“I can hear you Krotos.” Replied Florimel, tugging at his beard before turning around, a twinkle in his eye. “On an unrelated note dear gryphon, have you ever thought about what it would be like to be a fish?”

“I’m very much happy being a gryphon thank you very much!” The gryphon pulled back his head in alarm, eyes darting between he and the princess, “He’s not serious is he?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Nivra replied as Florimel returned to his task, this time reducing the blocks to little more than dust before reforming them with a wave of his hand, “But moving on from big picture, lets circle back to the present. Do you recall what spell it was that Veledar cast upon you? Sooner I get done with you, the sooner I can return to more important matters.”

“More important matters? What could be more important than returning dignity to your favorite gryphon?”

“We both know you’re not that.” She chuckled, “Or have you forgotten one proposed to me?”

“I said you’re favorite, not your betrothed.” Scowled the gryph, “He doesn’t count anymore.”

She sighed, “The spell, do you remember what words he said?”

“How do you expect me to know? I’m not exactly an expert in casting spells! That’s you’re job! I was just innocently there, minding my own business!”

It was then that Axton strode in, carrying a tray covered in bowls. Most were filled with spices and things only things magicians would need in their spells. Bone powder, guano, bars of silver, even one filled with diced mint, it was a collage of various smells.

“Right, minding your own business as I recall…While gathering reagents with Axton here. You know, tardiness is not something one looks for in an apprentice.” She gave the teen a stern eye, seeing him squirm under such scrutiny.

“And you’d be right.” He spun around, “We got distracted with helping Arcturus, Voidwing and Crimson Sky. Krotos did insult them mum.” He bowed his head, “Forgive me.”

Her lips curled to a smile, “It looks like one of you can tell the truth. Worry not Axton, but you’ve revealed that our victim here, might very well have deserved his current state.”

The gryphon ruffled his feathers, “Traitor!” He gasped. “Axton you traitor!”

“Don’t go calling him a traitor because you got found out.” She slid between the two, “Playing with Arcturus and Crimson.”

“We were not playing! We were…acting out battle plans!”

“Is that why you two were making snowmen and placing metal buckets on their heads?” Asterion snorted from his chair, “You should have used sharpened sticks, much better than the dull ones.”

“Snowmen?” Nivra chuckled.

“I thought it was rather neat.” Axton shrugged, “And I dispatched Crimson with packets of chocolate.”

“Oh lord.” She shook her head as the teen looked very proud of himself. No doubt she’d hear about this later, the dragon insisting she keep a better eye upon him. Something about how his pride had been wounded, maybe even throw in a tax that she’d have to keep track of.

“And again.” Krotos coughed, pressing a wing to his chest, “Back to the more pressing matter of my feathers, that only got sullied because the queen decided that we stay.”

Her gaze hardened, giving the complaining gryphon pause. “Are you going to keep it up? Cause I’m not really in the mood. Arcturus already gave me a mouthful this morning, insisting upon my departure.”

“See? That makes sense! Each day you spend here is dangerous. Ask Voidwing, I bet he’s not thrilled with your insistence of staying in danger!”

She slid away from the gryphon, shaking her head. Voidy had indeed had quite the chirp to instill upon her, practically joining forces with the knight in his verbal assault. Her heart trembled, knowing what she did was important, enough so to weather the undead forces that would be crawling at the walls. “Is this decision you’ve come to out of caring for my well being, or that you are frightful against the shambling hoard?”

The gryph pinned his ears, eyes steeled. “Do you want Lumara to lose their queen? Leave our home in the hands of those corrupt lords and ladies? Let what people sided with your father continue about unabated? How can you sit here, knowing every moment you could return and cast them away?”

“Someone has to defend this place.” She replied with a sharpened tongue, pouring herself a cup of tea. “You’ve seen the way my father handled the people of other kingdoms, threatened them with violence, drove them from their homes. Now the undead are just another force to revenge them. How can I just leave them to a fate we helped conjure?”

“That’s Arcturus’ job, as a knight. You’re the rightful queen, you should be home, cheering him on.”

She shook her head, “Things must change for the future, the alliances between our peoples. You’ve seen how they look at us, Arcturus, yourself, me, all Lumarians. They despise us, what we stand for, where we’re from. If they saw the queen trying to defend them, they just might warm up to us for the years ahead. Or at least put them on the right path to peace. Our kingdom’s hands are ever soiled with blood, someone must attempt to wash them clean.”

The gryph scoffed at the notion, “Couldn’t Arcturus and Veledar do that?”

“The Lumarian traitor and a dragon?” Her brow rose, “I’d hardly consider them convincing for our cause. Not as much as me anyway, besides, you’ve seen the looks they’ve gotten after Storm’s death…People around here still blame them for it.”

“We were not responsible for that!” Chirped the gryphon, “That was your old master Nigel’s doing!”

 The words stung at her, it hadn’t been that long ago where she still admired his magical prowess, longed to be just like him. “To them, it might as well have been us.” She sighed, feeling the dragon’s loss upon her shoulders. If she hadn’t gone along with Nigel’s plan to his vault, the blue dragon might still draw breath., inspiring the folks with his presence and filling his mate with hope. Every time she saw the teal dragon’s saddened look, guilt gnawed at her spirits.

“Which only helps my position…That you should leave. We’ve overstayed our welcome. Mark my words, give it a bit more push and they’ll be trying to kill us. Laws or no.”

“Now you’re talking tall tales.” She scoffed at the notion, “This might not be Lumara, but these people are still those of law. Killing a royal from an opposing kingdom? When they have undead bearing down upon them from across the countryside? Krotos, no one will be looking for a score to settle in times such as these.”

“The most magnificent of times.” Huffed Asterion, “Where Korde will bless us with a battle that will be told throughout the world. It will be glorious; I’m honored that you decided to stay Nivra.”

She thanked him, “See?”

“Oh please, Asterion would approve of anything if you told him it was a grand battle. Even if it was over nothing more than the last pancake at breakfast.”

“And you lost that duel little bird.” Laughed the bull, “You should have not challenged me.”

 As the gryphon cursed and hissed, she returned to subject Krotos’ feathers to another magical attack. Perhaps a more powerful application of a dispel magic would do the trick. As Krotos chirped his complaint ever still, she drew a circle of vibrant lavender around his head with an extended finger. It rested upon the air, pulsating like a heart. She spoke the words of power, warmth spread through her bones, twisting and curling around each of her limbs.

“I feel it. It’s working.” He chirped happily, ears shooting up. Turning all around he watched as the magic flickered and sparked across his marred feathers. “Oh Nivra, I can’t think of a way to-“ In a breath all his feathers flung themselves from him as if they were a creature bitten. They fluttered slowly upon the air, back and forth in silent agony, before resting upon the floor. But her spell wasn’t done, his fur went next, exploding outwards in a bright blue flash.

Krotos sat stunned, sputtering in abject horror, being left nothing more than a naked, featherless chicken. His head swiveled around his body, beak opening and closing, as a silence fell upon them. It only broke as the sapphire guardians burst out laughing.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?” Krotos screeched, pinching himself as though it were a terrible dream, “My FEATHERS, MY BEAUTIFUL FEATHERS. Look at what you’ve done! Look at them!” He clutched the forgotten feathers, already starting to weep, trying to shove them back on. “You’ve scarred me! Nivra, I thought you were a good magician, not some apprentice!”

“Settle down, settle down.” She bit her lip, trying to force the laughter that was already threatening to burst out of her. Axton had already started to do so. As Krotos fumbled about the floor in utter shock, she was forced to use another spell, summoning a large, yellow, translucent hand to restrain him. Still, he struggled under its fingers, spitting our curses and obscenities most vile.

“You done?” She asked, arms crossed.

He squirmed still, but under her hardened gaze did droop, defeated. “I’m hideous…Look what you’ve done to me.” He peered up to the mage with the larges eyes she’d seen, even giving her a pitiful whine, “Can you fix it?”

“Course I can.” She lied, brushing his naked flesh. “And it’s not that bad, sure you’re feathers are gone, but you’re still the same gryphon to me.”

“Really?” He sniffed as he laid down his clawful of feathers.

“Truly, now just give me a moment, and we’ll have you right as rain.” She stood tall, gesturing Axton over as she approached Florimel to hide her ignorance. Politely she tugged at the mage’s robes, gesturing to the naked gryphon. “Could we request your help?” She whispered. “I’d rather not make more a mess of him.”

The old man tilted his head, eyes going wide. To Krotos he strode, stroking at his beard. “My word, who in their right minds brought a giant, ugly, featherless chicken in here?”

His indignant squawk rang through the halls, followed by the burst of laughter from his supposed friends.