The Fifth Codex (16 page)

“Look – at –
those
– WINGS!” Gorgynna gushed.

When fully unfurled, this Gryphon’s spectacular wingspan would easily reach seven pike lengths across.  These wings ran along the side of his body from just past the neck until finally meeting flush at the hipbone.  The shape of each slightly curved wing formed a soft point at its center before sweeping back toward the rump.  At this center, a single large claw, almost as if protruding from a thick digit, was visible.  Oversized feathers of various vibrant colors filled each wing.

“Crimson red … blends into a brilliant orange … finally finishes with a sun-kissed yellow much the shade of the grasses from whence he came.  The bold colors that brush their broad strokes across these wings could not be more handsome!  Do you see the same beautiful feathers along his neck as I, Historian?”  Gorgynna peeked back.  Still speechless, Apadimex’s stylus shook in his hand as their eyes met.  “
Historians
,” she chortled.

Gorgynna then shifted her seedy look to Persephone.  Their eyes met as she continued to weep.  The queen’s servants a melded reality, Persephone’s doom and that of every other Elite was on its way.  Gorgynna offered but a wink and a smirk for an apology before she rolled her eyes back toward the Gryphon.

“How his mane mixes brilliantly with those feathers – such a regal appearance borders on the fantastic!” Gorgynna crowed.  She had demanded that their spells allow the Gryphon males to keep their stunning reddish-brown mane.

“A lush, thick coat as if knowingly preparing for winter; when the frosty winds blow, you will not find
this
creature hiding with his lion cousins at the steppes of the Pillars of Fire!”  Gorgynna again strutted around the cage.  This time, however, she did so with the swagger of a newly made swan.  As if only
she
had molded these living works of art with
her
own spells.

Without warning, the Gryphon looked right at Persephone.  He then unfurled his wings the best he could, dug his talons into the Kauri wood floor of the cage, raised his beak high, and let out a shrill bellow.  This perfect mix of a lion’s roar morphing into an eagle’s cry shook the atrium.  As the echoes of this Gryphon call none had ever heard before bounced about, other cages began to rattle.  More roars and shrieking calls rang out from under the velvet cloaks that covered them.  Finally shaken out of their stunned stupor, the other two Triumvirates brushed past Persephone and uncovered the remaining nine cages.

Persephone trembled wildly and felt nothing but cold across her being.  Able to stand no longer, she dropped to her knees and buried her sobbing head in her hands.  The last thing she remembered was Amicus’ strong hand around her shivering shoulder.  Hades did not take Persephone on this night, but perhaps just wanted to give her a taste of the suffering to come.

*****

Queen Gorgynna’s magical prowess was well known, yet rarely seen.  A member of the Magic Guild for more than a decade, Persephone had never seen as much as a single spell leave those crooked lips.  Despite this, those inside the temple walls had heard well the countless rumors: Gorgynna wielded a darker magic than all but a few ever dared try.  Even Cynisca, their first queen, stayed clear of the shadows this one danced in the coldness of.  Yet somehow, someway, the willful witch awoke each day refreshed and ready to dominate.  Somehow, someway, she avoided the fate that had befallen Cynisca and countless others who too had practiced hurtful magic.  Despite their efforts to discover her secret, Persephone and the other Elites had not a clue as to how she pulled this off.

How unfair!  Judgment had so far escaped the one who deserved judgment most!

Signs galore – some in plain view – a few did suspect Gorgynna’s budding wickedness soon after she claimed the crown.  Allies, of course, right away dispatched those who turned suspicious.  The rest simply refused to believe that a single being could come to own such an overpowering will until it nearly suffocated them.  Gorgynna’s arrogance at this young age – she was little more than three decades older than Persephone – already bordered on the surreal.  Bitterness bathing itself upon this queen’s selfish fingers, it would only get worse.  Attached to the uncompromising hand of conceit, Persephone watched in horror as Gorgynna’s wicked pride tightened its grip around her spiteful being with each passing year.

Chapter Fifteen
AFTERMATH

Forbidden to kill, we excel at gathering and driving prey to where Sapien trappers direct.  Prohibited to eat raw flesh, both master and servant only eat meat after cooking it.  Taught to be ashamed of nakedness, as do our overlords, we too cover ourselves.  A master often boasts, “The clumsiest Gryphon owns more manners than the most graceful Sapien!”  And why should he not?  So obedient and always eager to help without protest, without fail – such words speak the perfect truth.

– Ovahdya, Gryphon servant

– Early Fall, Year 1,214 KT
[17]

The sweet smell of bound bamboo strips tucked in massive Kauri wood shelves was the best part of the downward trip from the third floor of the Great Repository of Knowledge.  These many hundreds of bamboo codices waited their turn until a scribe copied their words onto copper plates.  This wait could be years, even decades.

Ovahdya no youngling, he walked down the stairs carved from blue granite with slow, careful steps.  One benefit of growing old – he now noticed the small joys of the world he so often overlooked when young.  At sixty-eight years old, Ovahdya was in the twilight of his life, but guessed he still had a good decade or two left.  His beloved master, the retired historian, Apadimex, however, would be lucky if he made it through the night.

“Ovahdya?” his master called out in barely more than a whisper.  “Ovahdya, dear friend … are you close?”  Every word trembled as if in fear it would be his last.

Apadimex stood a pike length away from his favorite chair, but appeared as if stranded at sea.  If not for his thick cane to keep his wobbly legs beneath him, he would have fallen over.

“Yes, Master, I am here.”

As quickly as he could, Ovahdya came alongside his master and led the near blind man to a finely molded chair lined with red velvet.  Apadimex more crumpled than sat in it, but a slight smile told Ovahdya that the pain to do so made it all worthwhile.  He looked kindly on his gentle master who for the last few years had not been able to return this kind look to his faithful servant.  Just one last time, Ovahdya dearly wished Apadimex could see his silver eyes tinged with gold sparkle their everlasting thanks.  The retired historian was more than just his master.  He was his teacher and the closest thing to a father he had.  Aside from his mate, Ovahdya loved no other being more.

“The end of my time,” Apadimex said softly, “is upon me, old friend.  And I am glad.  I am thankful to have lived longer than any Sapien before me, but four centuries and then some is more than enough.”  He took in as deep a breath as a dying man could.  “The proper arrangements have already been made, of course.”

A sudden chill swept toward them from the closest corner of the repository.  Apadimex calmly raised a crooked finger and pointed toward it.  Ovahdya followed this finger and saw only polished marble, but was well aware as to why a wisp of deathly cold lingered in the empty space.

“You will soon be under the care of Queen Gorgynna.  She is fond of you, yes, quite fond of you.  Your burdens will still be light and she will keep you … she will keep you well.”

Ovahdya laid down at his master’s feet and looked at him with soft, sad eyes.  He let out weak whimpers to let Apadimex know he was near and that he would miss him.  The moments until now quite somber, a sudden urgency rushed through Ovahdya.  If he wanted to ask his master anything he had yet to, he had better do so now.  After a few moments of thought, two important things came to mind.

“Master,” Ovahdya said reverently as he sat up, “do you still remember those who created us?”

As much as it could an old man on the cusp of death, this question lit up his master’s face.  Apadimex even tried to sit up a little straighter in his chair – the Grim would have to wait.  As if curious to hear a good story, the corner suddenly became less cold as the Reaper let some life flow back into Apadimex.

“Yes, my friend, very much so,” he said in a firm voice Ovahdya had not heard for weeks.  Excited by this, he moved closer.  With one hand, Apadimex rubbed the handle of his cane.  “Especially the only one who saw that such boldness was wrong.  Especially Persephone.  Gryphons are magnificent and regal, but for the Elites who dared create your kind, their end was neither magnificent
nor
regal as both time and rot rendered them all insufferable fools.

“Each of your kind is a splendid helper,” Apadimex continued as he again tried to sit up straighter in his chair, “and has done better than Queen Gorgynna or any others could have ever envisioned.  But that does not matter, Ovahdya – you were taken!”

The confused Gryphon tilted his head at this.  He did not understand.

“But Master, we
are
as you say – magnificent and regal.  Why would our creators be fools and why would they suffer at all?”

And what did his master mean by ‘taken’?

“The first Gryphons were molded from captured lions and giant eagles,” Apadimex explained slowly.  “Caged and brought inside the city walls, they were no longer free to roam the plains and skies of Lapith Fields.  As unlearned animals cannot choose such a path, the Elites transformed these creatures
against
their will.  To do such a thing for our amusement, our benefit, our pride – one cannot do so freely.  An act such as this requires those guilty to pay a ghastly price and every Elite indeed did so.  Both in our fleshy world,” Apadimex pointed to the still chilly corner, “and most likely the next one as well.”

Seeking warmth away from this corner, Ovahdya set his head in Apadimex’s lap and enjoyed a soft rubbing for many moments.  In truth, a rock would have been softer than the bony legs he rested on, but he adored his master too much to care.  During this rubbing, Ovahdya let his eyes wander and they now wound their way around the repository.  It had always been his home and Apadimex had always been his master.  Luckily, the palace that would most likely be his next home adjoined with the repository and – the current historian willing – he would still be able to visit it.

The works in the Great Repository of Knowledge were not all histories.  In fact, less than half of them were.  Stories written by others who were not a historian or his scribes ranged from the mundane to the fantastic.  Some were true and some were not.  One of a handful of Gryphons even allowed in the repository, Ovahdya had read many of them.  But Queen Gorgynna allowed NO Gryphon to read from the historical texts.  This was why even a learned Gryphon whose master was once a historian asked such questions.  All Gryphons knew was that the Elites who spoke the spells to create his kind were all dead.

“I know at first that Gryphons were simply clever, Master,” Ovahdya said, “but we have come a long way in a short period of time.”  He lifted his head, but did so slowly so that the palm of one hand still touched him.  “A short amount of time for a Sapien at least.  Did any of our creators get to see us learn so much so fast?”

“Not a one I am sorry to say,” Apadimex said after he let out a deep sigh.  His eyes began to swell.  “Within a decade after, every Elite who fulfilled Gorgynna’s greatest wish – for the benefit of
all
, of course – lost their vision, their sanity, or both.  Within twenty years, a wasting death claimed them all.  Riddled with crippled limbs, tumors, and lesions, the thirteen mystics who created your kind just rotted away.  To own a fatal lack of appreciation in regards to so ‘grand’ an endeavor, there could be no other fate.  The only one to protest our queen, Persephone, did receive a small reward for doing so – Hades took the youngest, bravest Elite last.”

Ovahdya knew nothing of this Persephone his master had singled out for a second time.  In a less rushed setting, he certainly would have asked more of her.  Instead, he focused on another who still lived.  There was something odd about Queen Gorgynna’s part in their creation.  Ovahdya had heard ‘rumors’ of her forays into dark magic, of course.  Many said she wielded an even more powerful magic than that needed to create the first Gryphons.

But what of HER punishment?

“If it was our queen,” Ovahdya began slowly, “who commanded the Elites to create us, then why do the gods not make her suffer as well?”

Apadimex let out a labored, wheezing laugh.  He then gurgled a few times.  Ovahdya did not understand what was funny about this question so he stayed silent.

“Many suffered greatly.  Many more that helped in the creation of Gryphons did not.  And not just Gorgynna – the Triumvirate and Apprentices escaped punishment as well.  This is but one cruel twist in the ways of magic, my friend.  Fair or not, to command or help another perform acts such as these is simply not punishable.  For the one who
speaks
such spells,
this
one accepts that, soon after doing so, Hades will reach through his or her open mouth and tear away the soul cowering inside.  The Elites had spoken the spells, Ovahdya!  And because of this,
they
bore the full brunt of the mystic mischief Gorgynna had dreamt up.”

Mystic mischief?  Ovahdya loved his master.  Did his master not love him as well?  How could his master love him AND refer to the creation of his kind with such cruel words.

These thoughts brought tears to Ovahdya’s eyes and he purposely wiped them on Apadimex’s bare arm.  His master shuddered as he felt this.

“You believe our creation was wrong, don’t you, Master?”  Ovahdya’s voice cracked as he asked this.  “You do not believe we deserve to live in this world at your side?”

Apadimex’s worn face frowned as if upset he had allowed Ovahdya to think this.  His fingers again buried themselves in his servant’s mane and he took in a raspy breath.

“It is
my
kind, dear friend, who do not deserve to live in this world at
your
side.”  Apadimex let a few moments pass before he continued.  “Queen Gorgynna once told me, ‘To be dominated is in the best interest of every Gryphon, for there is no other way they will learn.’  Tell me, Ovahdya, do you believe this?”

“Yes,” Ovahdya answered immediately.  “She is right.  If I were a lion or giant eagle and not a Gryphon, I would have died decades ago and learned little for my troubles.  Sapiens created us and are great teachers and we are thankful for it.  I serve you, Master, because you are kind and teach me.  How else could I have learned to speak?  Because you care for me, I can read and write as well as any Sapien.  When I was born, few Gryphons could read or write.  Now, at least somewhat, most of us can do both.  Longer life, a purpose, learning – what more is there?”

Well, there WAS one thing more
….

For the first four or five generations, Sapiens had restricted the breeding of Gryphons.  During this time, they allowed only the most gentle and sturdy ones to do so; only after the first century of their existence, did it become lawful for males and females to choose their own mates.

In every way, a Gryphon and his mate were equal to a Sapien couple aside from one: By order of Queen Gorgynna, they could not marry.  Every Gryphon hated this, but sadly obeyed.  Nevertheless, they came to understand well what a commitment between two hearts truly was.  As with Ovahdya and his mate, once one chose another, it was often for life.

“Great teachers … great teachers …
great teachers
…” Apadimex repeated in faint whispers only keen Gryphon ears could hear.  “Perhaps too much so.  Gryphons will eventually learn all Sapiens can teach them.”  His frail voice stayed soft, but turned dark.  “And what then? 
How long
before the captive state that now comforts you no longer does so? 
How long
before you wish for the same freedoms your masters enjoy?”

For Gryphons to be ‘free’ from the protection of their masters, to want to fend for themselves – what lunacy was this?

Ovahdya had never considered such things.  As far as he knew, a servant only went hungry when he did something wrong and was only beaten when he did something wrong repeatedly.  The creatures the long-dead Elites molded his kind from went hungry more often and for lesser reasons.  Gryphons wore clothes – nowhere near as fine as Sapiens, of course – took an interest in their world, and lived underground with their masters during winter.

No ‘free’ lion or eagle did this!  They were naked with no shame, knew nothing more than that needed to feed their faces, and had no choice but to huddle near fissures where lava flowed when the harshest of seasons came.

In the end, perhaps these were simply the babbling words of an old man taking in his last breaths.  But this brought to mind the second important question Ovahdya wished to ask.  Since their beginning, Gryphons drank from the waters of the Pool of Torment and Discovery.  And since their beginning, Sapiens had bred them to be as meek as lambs.

But why?

Ovahdya felt it again even worse than before.  Perhaps the Grim was just tired of this story, perhaps another somewhere inside Elkabydos needed taking – bone-chilling cold approached.  He needed to hurry.

“I see lions on the plains, Master, and they are savage, unfeeling.  They rip their prey into pieces with pure joy.  When another dies; even if the dead lion is from their own family, they simply walk on.  Aside for our size and the care we give to our young, we are nothing like them.  Giant eagles are much the same.”

Ovahdya’s words dismissed this savagery, but his thoughts did not.  In a way, he was jealous that lions and giant eagles could keep the feral instincts Sapiens worked so hard to breed out of his kind.

“
We
can be mighty of both tooth and claw if taught to be,” Ovahdya said in a hopeful voice, “… if allowed to ––”

“Sapien warriors atop Gryphons soaring over the Agathis
would
terrify even the bravest Arachna Majora,” Apadimex interrupted with a wheezing chuckle.

“Yes, Master, yes!  Why not breed us to keep
some
of these instincts and then teach us how to use them?”  Ovahdya watched and waited for the answer with great interest as his master took in a number of shallow breaths.