Mystic Journeys A Memoir of Kiska Gryfin, Spring 706 By Coal Train (c) 2008 Coal Train __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________                                                       Chapter One __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________     It was, and still is a rare occurrence, A cause for celebration. It is not often that entertainers visit these small, remote places in the wilderness. That one would visit here, in the area surrounding Metamor Keep was all but unheard of. Fear of the Keep and its curse keeps many away. If you are foolhardy, brave, unfortunate or unlucky enough to stay you will be forever changed. The curse only takes a week, sometimes less, and it is not reversible.     As for me, well, perhaps I was a little of all four. Or perhaps fate simply smiled on me. I thought my travel arrangements would allow me to move in and out as the wind. By and large they did, For a while.     So it is that I found myself in the small village of Merith south of the keep. I had come to tell my stories, and sing my songs. I always impress the locals with my stories and songs. For they come from lands both very far away and just down the road. All in all it seemed a nice way to start my spring campaign.     Presently, I was sitting beside a small, but warm fire. A circle of stones around it keeping stray coals from escaping.  At the edge of the firelight, could be seen several faces arrayed around me. The children of this small village were listening intently as I began my narration. The crackling of the fire seemed to punctuate my words.      "We entertainers like to come to these remote places. We like to spread cheer and happiness." I said. "Often times, happiness is rare in the darker places of the earth. Greater than gold and jewels is the value of happiness. And so my bounty is priceless." I saw the smiles glowing on the faces of the young ones.       "Happiness is a basic necessity of life. Without it, eventually entire Civilizations can die off. Or worse, they can be changed into something else." I watched as the adults understood and grimly nod their heads. "This is the secret and unknown history of the Lutins."  The look of surprise on the kids is priceless.     Once millennia ago Lutins were much like men. But somehow, they angered their Gods. So they were cursed with a misery. And that misery consumed them. It changed them into the shrunken, vile, green, beasts they now are. Their populations dwindled until they were virtually extinct. With the attentions of Nasoj however, misery grew. So too therefore did the Lutins."     I told this among many stories. Many stories that contain far too much truth, though just fantastic enough to almost be believable. The fire burns brightly in front of me sending sparks skyward as sap explodes. The acrid smoke dissipating into the windless night. The villagers, those not on guard duty anyway, are all circled around me. Children huddled closest to the warmth of the fire. Even the adults have trouble containing their excitement.     I told my stories of ancient times, and of times, not so ancient. I spoke of dragons, now virtually extinct to all but the south lands. And I spoke of the Gryfin, now rumored to be completely extinct. I told stories of magic long since forgotten and that should remain so. I spoke of the ancient races of the earth as well. The Dwarves, Elves, Gargoyles, most of whom have long since left this earth. To where no one can say.     It was a good night. The villagers finally retired to their homes nestled into the trees well after the night had fallen dark. The life of a troubadour suited me well. I learn much on the road. I act as a postman, newsman, entertainer, writer, and playwright. Spreading news and plain gossip from kingdom to kingdom, and village to village, completely heedless of loyalties, and responsibilities.     In return for my stories, I am often gifted the little necessities that make life on the road bearable. Things like clothes, blankets, food, and drink. But the most important this I gain from this is to be with others. I have a need that few could understand to socialize. Not for myself, but for my companion through me. I would often be offered a place to stay for the night, and frequently for as long as I wanted. This offer I am forced to politely decline, often to the puzzlement of my hosts.  I could not risk explaining why though.     I particularly like the folk of Metamor Keep. Despite the effects of the magic that eventually takes them all (or perhaps because of it), I find them to be most appreciative, polite and gracious hosts. It is a shame that the people in the lower midlands hate them so unreasonably.  Once I learned first hand about them, I vowed to try to temper the hatred with the truth.      I love these people and their ways. That a people so varied in race, creed, and religion can live cooperatively together is indeed a rarity. It is of course the Magic of this place that joins them. The magic affects everyone differently. For some it means a change in gender, some will find themselves forever children, but for many, the change is much more noticeable. But changed they all are. And that unites them in a way that is precious.     Many find themselves changed into rats, cats, wolves, bears, and all manor of other beings. Even one dragon that I know of. Yet, despite all their differences, they live together in peace and cooperation. Because of this unconditional acceptance, I would very much like to spend as much time as I can here. Despite these facts, however, some secrets must be kept.     Secreted into the woods far from sight or sound was my companion and friend of many years. It was important that she remain a secret. There are few of her kind around these days.  Fewer still had a working relationship with a human. In fact, as far as we knew, Quickpaw is the only one still alive in this world.     Were we discovered, it would almost surely mean that we would have to go into hiding. If we weren't outright killed or captured by whomever was bright enough to do so that is. This is why I go into the night to sleep with my secret companion. And here I think of the stories that I dare not tell. And also of the reasons why even here in Metamor Keep we believed we could not hope for peaceful cover.                                                              ***     I had been with my friend and trusted companion, Quickpaw, for more years than I cared to remember. She has been with me since the fateful day while traveling into the mountains of the great barrier range that I had found her as a youngling.       Her mother had apparently been injured by some foul magic of Nasoj. She was dying, yet another victim of Nasoj's war on all that is good and pure. It was sheer chance that I had found them. The sudden storm had forced me to higher ground. I needed to avoid the flash floods sure to happen in the dry soils of the great desert below. And I literally stumbled into the cave. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted not with silence, but with the screeching hiss of a startled Gryfin in pain.     I had little in the ways of healing knowledge. I had even less of the half raptor half cat beings of myth and magic. But realizing the wondrous value of what I had stumbled upon, I tried my best to show that I meant no harm. Much to my surprise I discovered that she could seemingly understand my speech.     I labored over her for weeks, using what knowledge I had to ease her pain while trying to heal the strange burn upon her side. All the while I was beginning to know and understand both the Gryfin and her daughter. She was so sweet, barely larger than a big dog back then.     Though the burn was apparently healing, her health seemed to fail as she began to refuse the meat I was able to hunt for her. At first I was motivated by greed pure and simple. In those weeks though I had developed a connection with the two of them. They had come to seem almost human to me now. And I felt ashamed of myself, and of the greed that had driven me at first.     "I admit" I said to the Gryfin " that when I fist came in here and found you, I was thinking about gold and riches. But I realize the folly of that thinking, and I don't want that now. I wish I could help you, I wish I knew what to do. But I am just a traveling hermit." I was struggling to hold the tears back. I truly felt sadness for the loss that I knew is now inevitable. "What more could I do for you my friend, that I have not done? How can I make amends for my foolishness?"     She looked at me, piercingly, even seeming to plead with me. Then something happened that I was not expecting.     She spoke. Not with words per say, but with thoughts. I could see the words she used, and in my mind they became sentences.     -"I believe you"- she said. Then she went on after a brief pause. -"The dark wizard killed my mate, and now claims me as well. Nothing you could do would stop this. We Gryfin are bonded in a way that most of your kind could not understand. If one of us is killed, the other surely must follow. This is the way of things for us."-     -"My child is the only reason I am still here."- She continued -"another of my kind would normally accept her as child, but they are all dead or far, far away. I cannot call to them now."- She paused for a time, her breathing labored.     "I do not know how long it will take me, but I promise that if it is at all possible to do so, I will bring her to your people."  This was a promise.  I never make idle promises without intending to follow through. I did not know the difficulty of what I was promising. But it sounded adventurous and I am after all a storyteller and adventurer.     -"No."- was her reply. -"Not even you will be able to do this. My kind have fled to someplace whereto no others from this world may go."- She looked sadly to her child who had quietly sat down next to my leg. Evidently a conversation that I wasn't privy to was happening. The young Gryfin looked at me, then back to her mother and slowly nodded. A single tear formed and fell down her beak. Then she nuzzled her mother and turned and skulked out the entrance of the cave.     The Gryfin then turned back to me. -"Hear well what I now tell you, as you will be her parent from this day forward. She cannot go to the other place for she has not the knowledge or the strength to do so alone."-      "Her parent? But I am a mere human. How could I raise a Gryfin?"     -"It will be difficult, I ask no trivial thing."- She said -"but if you are unwilling to take her, she will die. Even if she were mature enough to survive physically, without the bond that all Gryfin need, she cannot live long."-         I think the development over for a bit; I hadn't had any such responsibility since I left my home in Shrivlana on the East Coast. Even then I was little more than a child myself. I thought about the life I left behind. I missed my mother; I missed the love she had for me. But when she died, I had no reason to stay. My father never cared a whit for me. I didn't want this beautiful creature to have to feel that abandonment. Not even for a short time. "I will do it." I finally said. "For the kindness and beauty I see in your hearts I cannot refuse."     Over the next few hours she told me of all the nuances of raising a Gryfin, giving me advice and instructions. I knew that I could never do some of what needed to be done, but promised to do my best all the same. I felt myself strangely connected to these wonderful creatures.     -"Yes, we do bond well with others, it is a magical defense. But it only works with one who has good intentions."-She said in response to my unspoken question -"It would not have worked with you had you not had love in your heart."-     -"It is time."- She finally said. -"I must now go to be with my mate. I fear not for Quickpaw, for I know she is in good paws."-     -"One final warning, however; if she is discovered, many will try to enslave or kill her or use her for their own means. Only those you can trust implicitly can be allowed to know of her."-     "Quickpaw?"     -"She is Quickpaw."- She says as she points with her beak out the cave entrance.     "It seems appropriate."  I said, then unable to block my emotions anymore, the tears finally fell in force. "You, you will be greatly missed."     -"I know,"- she seemed to smile. -" But weep not for me; concern yourselves instead with the life that is ahead of you. Together, you will face many challenges, and you will need each other."-     Then suddenly I realized that in all the time I had been here, I had never told them my name. It didn't seem important, but somehow it does now. "I know it probably means little to you, but my name is Kiska."     -"In that you are wrong Kiska, a name means everything to me. I am Morningstar. So named for the color of my feathers."- And indeed it was a good name for her. Even now in her final hours, her golden plumage and lioness pelt seemed to glow like the first rays of sunlight upon the eastern horizon.     -"Come, embrace me in your fashion Kiska, and comfort me in my journey. For I am afraid. You and I are not very different in this way. We all fear the inevitable death."-     I did so as the young Quickpaw returned, and together we embraced. "How do we create this bond?" I asked, "I do not want to cause any harm with unknowing incompetence."     -"Simply share your thoughts of me and the bond will take care of itself"- she responded.     With some effort she craned her neck over my shoulder and said as she drew her last breath -"you have a good heart Kiska, the Ethereal is indeed kind to bring one such as you to me in my time of greatest need."-     After she expired, much to my initial surprise, there was no need of burial. Gryfin are magical creatures. A very old kind of magic. One that predates the oldest of earthen life. Now that her body was no longer needed, it disintegrated as I watched, into an ethereal mist to slowly float into the great beyond                                                              ***     In my travels, I have learned much of the curse of Metamor. In the years since the curse was placed, many types of beings have been created. But the curse cannot change or create magic. This is why the curse at Metamor cannot change someone into a Gryfin, as Gryfin `are' magic. Little did we know, many rules can be broken with the right help.     So it is that this story begins... __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________                                                       Chapter Two __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________         Silence, as they say is golden. I listened to the silence of the night as I walked north along the road that leads out of town. The moon shone brightly as it rose over mountains across the farms and fields. The bluish light illuminated the forest looming ahead. It was a beautiful night, unspoiled by covert pursuit or the stench of Lutins. The crisp cool air of the spring night invigorated me. The smell of cold fog in the distance making the air seem cleaner than usual.         -"How are things looking Quickpaw?"- I mentally asked my companion.         -"All is quiet tonight Kiska. I have found a sheltered grove in which to camp. Would you like me to pick you up?"- Is her response.         -"How far away is it? The night air refreshes me, and a hike might be welcome."-         -"Not too far"- she responded with a mental grin. -"I can see you in the field, look east to the mountains."-          Of course, Quickpaw understandably likes the higher places, and is very good at finding remote places to camp. Places easily defended or fled from. By necessity she could not accompany me into the villages, but spent her time instead locating the best campsite, then usually hunting or just flying about.           We often traveled this way, flying at night to avoid being seen and attacked or magically captured. That she can see me meant typically that she is within perhaps three to five miles.           Sure enough as I looked over the freshly tilled field, I spot the slight movement of my beautiful Gryfin in flight.  Barely visible in the odd light of the moon, she banks to the right from her southerly flight and glides silently in my direction. For a moment she is silhouetted against the moon. She circles high overhead before swiftly descending to land with a loud thump next to me.          She was and always is a sight to behold. She has the wings and head of a gyrfalcon; a beautiful white with dark gray or black highlights. And the back body that looks to be of the snow leopard. With talons in front mounted to paw-like tarsus, and feline hind paws with two toned spots throughout. The muscles rippled beneath her pelt as she took up the trail next to me. She is a beautiful creature.         "Enjoy the flight?" I said aloud.         -"Yes, very much thank you. There is a group of Lutins about two miles to the northeast."- She reports -"but they are camped for the night, and are oblivious to our presence."- She then shuffles her wings to settle comfortably at her sides.         I reach around her soft neck and hug her lovingly. She cranes her neck to return the embrace in her fashion. Her plumage is always so soft and silky after a nighttime flight. I can't help but to think that I could easily be lost in the velvety fur and feathers of my companion. As I breathe the wonderful earthy scent of my companion, I ruminate at the facts of our lives together.         A bond of love is necessary for a Gryfin to survive. They are therefore, social creatures by necessity. The young are bonded to their mother until they mature, then they bond with their mate. This mate bond is complete and unbreakable. It is a bond of conscience and spirit. When I accepted Quickpaw as my own, I accepted by necessity the bond of parent. The Ethereal willing, when she matures in about another decade, a mate may be found for her.          With this parent bond, we can literally keep no secrets from one another. We can see through the eyes of the other, and share also the others senses as well. The mate bond is even more complete. When she matures, she will have to be mated as the parent bond begins to fade.          This is a source of great sadness for us both. For if a mate cannot be found I will have to assume that role. We hold no delusions though; I have no issues with the role, I love her very much, but a physical relationship, and therefore children are impossibilities. It is difficult to accept that she may be the last of her kind, and that together we are the ends of our respective family lines. Not that in my case that would be a loss to the world. At least we are together though. I cannot imagine life without her.         A Gryfin typically lives for thousands of years. A human usually only sixty or seventy at most.  But our bond bends the rules as it were. It would surprise many to hear my true age. Quickpaw is now about forty years old. When I first found her I was thirty-two. Physically I haven't aged a day since.         We walk quietly for a time, enjoying the peace of the spring night and the company of each other. By mid moon we were approaching a bridge that spans a small river. It was of wooden construction. And only about ten paces long but wide enough for two wagons abreast.         -"We should get some rest."- She said. -"If you wish to see the keep tomorrow and still leave the area in time to avoid the curse, we will have to get an early start. The grove is some hours walk from the keep."-         -"I was just thinking the same thing."- I respond with a smirk.         -"Of course,"- she mentally smiles. -"We do share our thoughts after all."- We continue to enjoy this even after all these years together.         We stopped before the bridge and she lowered her massive back so that I can mount  her as I would a horse. Then together we vault into the air in a flurry of wind and dust. We flew for some ten or twelve miles in about five minutes. The trees flow below like water in a river.        We move at a leisurely pace. Of course, leisurely for us means easily thrice the speed of a horse. Perhaps a well-motivated horse could keep up with us on land. But in the air, there is little that could mach us. I reveled in the feeling of the cold spring air flowing around us. My hair tied as it was in a ponytail flowing behind as if it were a flag. I breathed the crisp cool air. It held the promise of frost for the morning. Together our hearts leapt for joy at the freedom of flight.        Such freedom however is often short lived. Before I was quite ready we landed at our chosen camp. "I like the view!" I said as I dismounted. "We can see for miles and could be gone in seconds if we need to."        -"Yes, and there is Metamor"- she said as she pointed with one wing to the northwest.          Indeed there in the haze of the night is the magical castle of Metamor. It's multiple spires jutting into the sky. Surrounding the keep is a sprawling town. Shops, homes and taverns. All so typical of many such fortified places that can be found.         The peaceful midnight visage belies the magic and people of this place. The serenity of the night effectively masking the specter of war that always hangs over the region.         "Well, I suppose we should call it a night, but first there must be time for dinner." I proceeded to shuck my pack and dig out the venison that was given to me at Tullwine. The meat is wonderfully spiced for human taste, but it leaves something to be desired for a Gryfin. No matter, there was only enough to last through the morning anyway. I will have to get something at Metamor.         -"I wish it hadn't been cooked."- She said for the third time in as many days.         "I know, but if I had asked for raw meat, it would have raised some questions that we might have had difficulty answering."         -"Humph. Well, I guess its better than finding I have eaten a Metamoran."-         I chuckled, " yes, that might not settle well with anyone involved."        Normally, hunting for meat is not much of a problem, but given the nature of the people of Metamor, we decided to avoid a dreadful risk, and not hunt, lest the food fight back.           Much of the venison I gave to Quickpaw. I had a little jerky, some early veggies and dried fruit. I remove my blanket and spread it upon the ground. I assemble my enchanted staff, and prepare for the night. Should danger approach, the staff should warn us.       Quickpaw then lay on her side and I lay spooned in her warm embrace. She draped her wing about us both. And covered us in warmth that no blanket could hope to match. Together we slept until the morning sun came over the horizon. <hr size=1>Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Yahoo! 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