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Chapter 16

Time crawled for Olas, stretching to the ends of his patience, and doing its best to drag down his eyelids, bringing the gryphon to slumber. Again and again he recited the words that he was supposed to preform, blessings to garner favor and luck from the gods to this festival. He would strut about, show off his feathers, grace the commoners with a display most befitting of kings themselves. Jaws would fall open at such a sight, dragging cheers and praises straight from their throats. Still, as much as he relished the awe of their imaginary faces, ensuring he would get it perfectly was much too troublesome.

Sure, it was just for a small town, far from the masses of Whitedell or Entis, but he knew that he was a shining example of his father, the slightest mistake would reflect on them. He could already hear his father’s squawking, the scathing remarks that would befall him if he were not the perfect, well-behaved mage. He was already going to catch a tongue lashing from his invitation for Leon, but that half-elf was worth the trouble.

In fact, it was the handsome half-elf’s visage that kept the gryphon’s energy up as he went through the ceremonies script for the latest time. His ruggish looks, the way his eyes would eat up the gryphon, nothing else existing in the man’s gaze. It made Olas’ heart quiver, his paws tremble at being ever so wanted; that was something he’d never had with Isadora. He had to be careful, however, with lingering upon his delightful mercenary, waves of lust were always ready latch upon him like a pack of wolves and light a terrible flame within him that would demand his attention. As it was, even his formidable willpower was losing the battle of unsheathing himself, lewd images of his tail raised and waiting for his hero to make him sing too powerful for him to resist.

That was when he decided upon a break, excusing himself from curious eyes. He gave them the reason that he was inspecting Leon’s room, he just hoped no one noticed him padding away with an odd shift in his hinds. The mercenaries’ quarters were well taken care of in the mayor’s estate, up upon the second floor, where the halls were sparse and which allowed Olas to comfortably spread his wings. Chandeliers of steel, engraved with runes hung from the ceiling where mana stones waited for the command to light and grace the stone walls with their golden hues. The air here smelled of the mountains, mixed with fresh rain and earth, it reminded the gryphons of their natural homes.

Leon’s room itself was placed right beside Olas’ own, upon the Lord’s request of course. It was the perfect distance so that he might slip from his to Leon’s own with no one being the wiser, he might even use a spell to shift through the walls. His tail flicked with lustful images of himself snatching up his beloved Leon and subjecting him to pleasures that would have the beautiful man moaning the gryphon’s praises. As it was the trappings of this room were decent, not the extravagance that the lord himself was privy too. The bed here was built for two gryphons, circular with raised edges to simulate a nest. Inside it large pillows hugged the rim, fluffy and by the lord’s experience, quite comfortable to flop upon.

Sheets of Lumara’s brown adorned the bed, complete with golden stitching, made of thick, tear resistant cloth, one had to when it came to gryphon beaks and talons. Mana lanterns hung on the wall, easy to pluck up and act as a mobile light source, they were placed within extravagant golden holders, the shapes of gryphons scattered about the surface. Olas entered and barked their compliance, bathing the dim room in their honied light. The lord’s gaze traveled about the hardwood floor, noting it lacked hardly any dents or scratches, usually gained in gryphon homes. He chirped to himself; it would do nicely for what he had in store.

He had to make this ready for the perfect evening, a pleasant dinner, rousing atmosphere and Leon dragged back to these quarters for a night that neither would wish to be pulled from. The gryphon rose, already starting to chant in the draconic tongue, letting prepared magic flow through his very being. Perfect motions gained through years of practice had him looking like a dancer as he maneuvered around the room. His charms were simple but effective, needed if he wished to play with his Leon and not be discovered by the wandering, inquisitive eyes of the nobles that would be frequenting these halls. Though most amusing, he doubted the Leon or his father would approve of them being discovered in the throes of passion. At thought of his father he almost considered it, just to see the fire in his eyes as he was told his son had his tail raised, getting railed by a half-elf commoner. He chuckled deeply; it was almost worth it.

The walls were enchanted with a spell to keep in the sound, to ensure no-one outside the room could catch wind of what transpired within. With but a touch of his talon the lord summoned a door connecting his room with Leon’s, ensuring he didn’t even have to walk the halls to come visit. He merely had to rise from his bed, saunter over and have at his half-elf whenever he wished. He giggled at the idea, wishing to toss the entire thing in Isadora’s face. Leon not adore him? Hah the man loved him, nor could he resist his tail.

Free of wandering eyes, Olas was allowed to drift off to his daydreams as he used spells to freshen the air to their liking, adjust the temperature, and even set candles that they might like. Mana lanterns were great, but the gryphon always enjoyed candles for their intimate nature, something lacking from the sterile lanterns. He pictured the mating dance that he would give, looking at himself in a mirror on the wall and giving his image a paw and playful growl. Leon and he would laugh, flirt, dance the night away till they were lost in each other. He wasn’t quite sure if the man could dance, but he was sure they would manage something, pressing the man tight, shivering as his hands tenderly glided through his fur and feathers; it made his heart weak thinking of it.

With a pleased chirp, the lord began to wiggle his haunches, raise, and lower his tail feathers, miming the mating dance he would perform for the half-elf. He’d drag the man into a beak parted kiss, their tongues starting to entangle amidst passionate groans. His fantasy, however, was brought to a swift end as his tail whipped around untethered, wild, knocking over a mana lantern. It’s glass shattered on the floor with a tremendous crash. With it came a flash of wild magic, giving life to what it touched. In this case it was a ball of string, that sprang through the air like a cobra. Tiny strands wrapped around his six limbs, forming the perfect little trap to secure his hinds and forearms. Dragged to the ground with a surprised squawk, Olas was left in a most vulnerable position.

“Look at what you’ve done you stupid thing!” He chirped in a laugh, eyeing the rust tuft appendage, doing its best to appear innocent. He knew better, “Crashing vases, getting me all tied up, lifting to seduce half-elves, you’re quite the troublemaker!” The tail lashed in protest at being referred to as such, “Don’t take that tone with me mister, you better hope he doesn’t find us like this!” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Leon striding in, eyes taking in the gryphon’s trapped form, who was he kidding he wanted Leon to find him like this, but he couldn’t let his tail get away with this, “Well, you best not be lifting for him the first chance you get if he does. I’d like to say we have more class than that.”

The mischievous tail wiggled in defiance at such a statement.

“Well, now, thanks to your incessant need to flail about, I need to get out of this- “

“Am I interrupting anything embarrassing?” Came a voice at the door as it creaked open thanks to a black, furry paw. “Or does your tail always talk back to you old friend?”

It was Veren, an onyx gryphon from the southern counties, one with lion like paws instead of the usual gryphon hands they typically had. He was adorned in a brown and orange vest, intermixed with golden stitches. It ran the length of his body with various, elaborate shapes, leaving enough space for his lower extremities to be unrestricted like most gryphon clothing. Around his forearms and hinds were orange cuffs, each with cufflinks made of emeralds that winked in the light. As he padded in a cloud of delight seemed to come with him, dance around his white tuft tail as he flicked it in amusement.

“Oh, come now Veren, this isn’t the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught me doing.” Olas replied, pressing at the yarn holding him tight.

“Ah yes, of which I have a plethora of events and instances to pluck from the annals of time.” Veren remarked, padding his way over to the trapped lord. He carried himself with upmost grace, his paws hardly making a sound. “I rather fondly recall a time in Histria when a rather flustered baker was wondering where her jelly tarts had flown off to. Do you remember that time?”

Olas groaned, recalling the gryphoness’ shrieks of returning to find nothing more of an entire tray but crumbs hardly fit for mice. “Nothing more than a weakness Veren.”

“Ah yes, but it was not the indulgence of sweets that made the moment memorable. I do believe that came when you lied to her face on where they went, only for her to catch a spot of jam upon your beak! How she squawked, I was certain she was going to bring down the entire wrath of the gods upon your head!”

“Yes, yes, we all act foolishly in our youth.”

“Youth? That was only five years back!”

Olas clacked his beak open and shut with a hiss.

“And then recall when you were boasting to the nobles of Starfell of your abilities, galivanting through their hamlets with the largest of swollen chests?”

His ears pinned as he tugged against the string that bound him, “I imagine you’re going to remind me?”

“Slipped and plummeted into the frigid lake!” Veren wheezed with laughter, his entire body trembling, “You emerged, the grand and illustrious Olas Mystic Feather, looking more fit to be a drowned cat!”

“And feather fall and the ability to dry my feathers became a pair of spells I always prepared afterword.”

“Still, perhaps this is less embarrassing when you entered to show your horses and came in last place, talk about a strike to one’s balls.” Veren circled him as if a cat, ready to play with its food. “Now I wonder, shall I leave you here as you are? The amusing tale I could tell the others how the grand Olas was bested by a ball of string?”

“Do so on your own peril Veren, I might be inclined to hold a grudge.”

“Have some dwarf blood in you do you?” The gryphon cocked his head with a smirk, “Do you need help my friend?”

Olas met the amused look in his friend’s clay-like eyes, he was never going to live this down. “Fine but know that I could have freed myself given the time, lucky for you my time is ever more precious.”

“Ah yes, the party. It would not be complete without Olas stealing the attention of every noble that will frequent the hall. Now Olas, quick question.” He unsheathed a claw, holding it against the first strand of string.

“Are you going to blackmail me Veren?” Sighed Olas.

“Of course not my friend.” Veren laughed playfully, “That will come later.”

“Do you want me to beg?”

“I do like it when strapping males beg for me, feel free to, but no it’s not a requirement. I was going to ask if this was an elaborate game for your champion? To have him find you all tied up, have him feel useful?”

His ears splayed, “If I was putting on a show for that handsome half-elf, I’d have done something more elaborate.”

“Handsome, is he?”

“Of course, he is, I know when things are handsome.” He was quick to cover his tracks, “This was the unfortunate accident of an unruly tail and an exploding mana lantern.”

“How disappointing.” Veren sighed, slicing through the string like butter, “For a moment I thought there might be something scandalous.”

“Scandalous me? Like what, letting Leon go at me like an Ilbir in rut?”

“Oh my. I didn’t say anything like that. Harboring fantasies my friend?”

“Nothing of the sort.” He waved a freshly freed hand, “Merely fulfilling in this foolish scandal idea of yours. I merely thought of the most scandalous thing!”

“And how swift you thought of your handsome mercenary.” Cooed Veren as he traveled about, cutting each string one after the other.

“Merely on the mind, think nothing more of it. I’m merely amazed I didn’t hear your approach; have you been training yourself?”

Veren wiggled his paws with a laugh, “You flatter me, my husband says I have the pawfalls of a dragon, you must have been caught up in your spells or predicament to hear me approach. Which lucky you I was around; you could have been stuck like this for hours!” He gave the lord a playful nudge, “More time to think about your darling, handsome champion delving into your caverns!”

The gesture received a clack of the beak, complete with a hardened stare, one that made sure his friend dropped the topic of his mercenary. “I’d rather word not be spreading of it, if my father heard of your jokes- “

“Your asshole of a father?” Veren laughed, “You think I’d wish to go tattling to him? I’m almost hurt you thought I would!”

“Not you, but other, less than loyal gryphs.”

“Very well, my beak shall be stitched shut on the matter. No one will hear about this rumor about you and this, handsome half-elf that my friend pictures spreading him wide like a gryphoness in heat. Does he call you his hen in this fantasy of yours?”

The lord’s ears pinned, “Are you done?”

Veren sighed when it was clear his friend was not playing along, “I suppose so, but you should loosen up.” The gryphon nudged along Olas’ flank, assisting in him getting back to all fours, “I was merely playing fun, I know how bored you get practicing for ceremonies.”

“Bored is a strong word, though I certainly would rather be doing anything else. There is only so many times one can enjoy the joyous shrieking of the hoard of commoners. I think it more is from the lack of challenge, I wiggle my wings, loose some sparks, watch them lose their minds.”

“Looking for more excitement I take it?”

If only Veren knew the extent of it, that desire to run off with Leon, share in one of his adventurers. It made him chirp with delight, picturing the days of travel, the sights and sounds they’d share, saving the day, learning new mysteries; sharing nights of unbridled passion that would blush any man’s cheek. “I’m surprised you are here for the festivities; I wasn’t aware that this had caught the eye of someone like yourself.”

“Me? I’m always finding time to visit these quaint places from time to time.” Veren replied, “There are often adventurous groups, looking for work from here to Deet. Which, speaking of which, this champion of yours, do you know if he would like a different scenery for his work?”

“He’s not for sale Veren.” Olas snapped his beak, eyes sharp, “And I’d refrain from asking him, I know the man, he’s more loyal than where he will get his next sack of coin.”

The onyx gryphon ruffled his feathers and lashed his tail, “How can you be so- “

“I’m certain.”

Veren opened and closed his beak several times as Olas began to reapply his spells. He didn’t have much left to do, merely applying the same sound dampening enchantment to the door and its surrounding walls. He noted how his friend didn’t leave in this time, content to plant down his haunches and watch the elaborate dance that was his spell casting. Did he not have anything better to do? Olas rounded on him with the last spell complete, pinning his wings. Was he embarrassed?

“What was all that hissing and growling for anyway?” Veren gave a beak parted smirk, his eyes whispering he knew something, “You sounded like a ruddy demon.”

“Draconic, it is the language of spells you simpleton.” Olas squawked, giving the room one last look over with his eyes, mentally checking off the list of spells that he needed to cast. No one would be able to scry in this room, hear what transpired in this room, Leon and he would have a safe den in which to share one another, where not a soul could wander in on them and ruin the entire evening. Satisfied with his work, the lord gathered Veren and slipped out into the halls.

“And why are you preparing the room with your spells?” Veren asked as they began their stroll, “Was it not to your liking?”

“Protective wards, alarms, traps for the devious, one can never be too careful you know.”

“Traps? Are you expecting trouble Olas?”

“Troublesome I know, but Leon is ever so suspicious. He could never rest easy as he has this utterly silly idea that I have assassins after me.”

“And do you?” Veren paused with a raised brow, “Are you in trouble?”

Olas chuckled, putting ease to the concern reflected in his friend’s amber pools, “Fret not, for there isn’t a spec of evidence that suggests as such.” He rolled a hand to his feathery chest, “Besides, with my magical abilities, I laugh at assassins.”

“I wish I had your confidence; whisper of assassins and you’d not catch my tail outside my estate without an entire brigade.”

“Of which I wield within my wings.”

“It sounds like it’s you who is protecting your champion instead of the other way around. I hope that he appreciates the particular attention you pay to him. Not many would go to the lengths to ensure the loyalty of assets like himself.”

“Then that is where you and I differ. I say, lavish him with all the treats, gifts and favors that he might never stray from my stable.” Olas remarked, as they descended the spiral staircase, passing beneath oil paintings of various gryphons in flight, taking in the domain they held so dear. They were enchanted like those from Rothdell’s mages, so that the gryphons painted upon the surface moved about as if alive.

Veren warbled in amusement, “Tell me about this champion then, so that I might feel envy all the way to my paws.”

“Oh, come now, you wouldn’t want to know that.” He rolled his eyes, adoring the look his friend was giving him, hungry for more about his darling Leon.

“You would be wrong.”

“Very well but know I only do so to quell this un-natural need within you.” He went on to explain Leon and his exploits, hinting at his adventures from here to the depths of the foggy mountains. How the half-elf had crossed blades with pirates, hobgoblins, trolls, and other various monsters that might wish to tear the flesh from his bones. “And despite his ruggish nature, uncouth words and lack of feathers, he always manages to bring a smile to my beak.” The lord sighed, picturing his half-elf here, wishing to lay thick his praises upon his handsome ears, “And warm my heart like he does my bed.”

“Excuse me?” Squawked Veren, pulling back his head.

“Oh, did I say share my bed?” Olas laughed nervously at the slip of the tongue, “I meant warm my heart and head with his stories. They fill my nights with dreams of adventure, romance, mystery, things I could never have.”

“Olas, you’re a powerful magician with the weave at your hands, with power over numerous lives and land to your name.”

“I know how it sounds, like out of the childish stories of our youth.” He continued, hoping to lead this noisy gryphon away from the scandal and his raised tail.

“Ah, I suppose that sort of life could…have a certain charm to it, though how one could, sleeping in but a tent, the bugs biting at your flesh.” Replied Veren with a shiver, “But it sounds like this Leon is quite an interesting figure, I wonder if he’s met my champion and his clan.”

“Your champion?”

“Yes, my champion.” Laughed Veren, “You thought you were the only one to have one?”

He splayed his ears as they passed through a sparse doorway, one that three gryphons might traverse side by side. “I thought I was the only lord that would be doing so.”

“Then surprise! Just don’t get your feathers in a twist when he offers the beer from his brewery. It’s a Guinness that will knock you on your ass.”

“Are you trying to bribe me about something?” He paused, reading the onyx gryphon’s face.

“What gives you that idea?” Laughed Veren, “I can’t have my champion bring beer?”

“No, but you’ve chosen one of my favorite varieties.”

“What a coincidence.” The onyx gryphon gestured to continue with a flick of the tail, “A happy one to be sure.”

“What do you want?” He ruffled his feathers as Veren gave a nervous laugh, pulling back with a swish of his tail.

“You see shadows where none are.” Onyx feathered wings fell upon Olas’ shoulders, “Just accept the beer and have a good night, know that his clan makes the best. In fact, if this were for humans or those with lesser constitutions, they’d probably be dead!”

“Let’s hope they put out a proper label!”

“Speaking of surprises that could kill you, did you hear about the king’s daughter?”

“You mean Nivra?” Olas cocked his head, “Whose raven hair flows down her shoulders? Where magic dances betwixt her fingers at the merest of gestures? The one whispered about to be a protégé by some but others insist she won’t amount to much? Nothing much.”

“I’d imagine those that say the latter are eating their feathers, I’ve heard that the mage Nigel has taken her under her wing. Several years back to be certain.”

“And we’re just hearing about this? What now about that blue robed wearing magician?”

“Only that he comes bearing gifts and a smile, along with detailed reports about Rothdell and their mages.”

“Ah, so a Lumarian patriot it would seem.”

“That would appear to be so. Just glad he’s helping us against those finger wiggling monsters.”

Olas turned to him with a keen chirp, eyes narrowed.

“But you’re our finger wiggling monster.” Veren’s ears pinned, “A most handsome and charming one at that.”

“I am at least to my enemies, now what fascinates you about royal gossip?”

“That she is supposed to be visiting Chios, accompanied by a detachment of soldiers and her newest personal bodyguard. You won’t believe this, she picked a black and white runt hailing from a hamlet outside of Chalcis.”

A runt? The lord shook his head at the idea, they were typically under sized gryphons, unfit for such strenuous roles. They were more suited for roles as scouts, delivers of messages, healers and the like. To think a runt was tasked with the protection of their kingdom’s princess was ridiculous, “I do hope Cornelius knows what he’s doing.”

“If she were my daughter, I’d not allow such a wild disregard for one’s freedom.”

“How lovely of a father you’d make.”

“I wasn’t implying that you would be!” His friend squawked, trying to save face, “But should this Voidwing runt of hers fail, there would be no heir to the throne…Not with the death of the prince.”

He had to admit, a gryphon on the throne didn’t sound too bad, “Shame the queen tossed herself from the castle, how Cornelius goes on, I haven’t the life of me. I have a sneaking suspicion that he could weather the death of his daughter.”

“And should he not, a gryphon will sit upon his throne.” Chuckled the onyx gryphon, “Would that title fall to you or someone else in your line?”

“I’ll have to get back to you, it’s something I’ve never looked into.” He lied, knowing full well that it was either his or the Steelbeaks that would be voted to take the throne should it fall vacant. “But you’ll not hear me speaking of such treasonous things of the early death of our beloved king.”

“Treason? I spoke not of treason; just interesting things is all.” Veren nudged at Olas’ side, “Besides, you’d look terrible in the king’s garments, too much brown.”

They laughed as they crossed through a grand hall, one meant for dancing and other get togethers. Its floor was of solid marble, decorated with portraits of various gryphons and humans that had called this place home. Some were in relationships, nuzzling up on their gryphon lovers, a perfect example of unity between their peoples. The pillars here were like the paintings before, of animals frolicking through lush forests, lingering around trickling rivers and stretching their wings through the air. One such creature among these was a dragon, its scales red as blood.

Veren stopped to scowl at such a sight, giving an exasperated chirp, “You’d think they’d take that down, given recent days.”

Olas watched the construct soar about, diving across the tapestries without a care in the world. His heart sank, “You speak of the dragon that attacked Entis. Many lives were lost that night.”

“That there was, bad taste to have such an eyesore about. I’ll have to speak with Deri the first chance I get. Shame what happened to Arcturus that night.”

“The dragon slayer and his family?”

“Heard the dragon roasted his wife and son.” Veren shook his head, “Terrible thing to happen. Least he has his gryphon to comfort him.”

“He has a gryphon?” Olas pulled back with a cocked head, “I’ve met the man before, I wasn’t sure he had a gryphon.”

“Are you mad? I’ve heard that he and this Skywing are practically stitched together! Both fought together in the war, bonded, share each other’s nest.”

“And yet, the gryphon is not his.”

“Preposterous. That can’t possibly be true.”

“I told you Veren, I’ve held guest to Arcturus and Skywing on various occasion through the years, they are not rider and gryphon.”

“You met them both?”

“Quite.” Sighed Olas, remembering how the proud white and black, tiger gryphon had stood before him to receive his medal. The commander had held himself with the grace that was known to follow him like a shadow. At his side had been Arcturus, the knight of great bravery and strength receiving his honor just the same. “They came after some great battle or another, gryphons wanted to reward them.”

“Skywing is a known name among these parts, highly respected. You’re telling me, that the human that we all swore he was mating with, was not his rider?”

“I mean, he rode him in various other ways.” Chuckled Olas, “But to be honest, it was more likely Skywing riding the knight.”

“Unbelievable, and what did you make of them?”

“Good, well mannered, willing to do whatever a lord requested of them. I asked them to stay and train my own guards for a bit, you’d be amazed how accommodating Arcturus was for me. “

“Oh, he didn’t approve of your personality? I hope you were not too hard on them.”

“For a time.” Olas smirked with a lustful flick of his tail, “However he took it with the endurance and fortitude of his station. Skywing had helped train him, something I was most grateful for. By the end, he was singing my praises, and I was getting my guards trained by two most skilled commanders.” He sighed, “That was quite the month, I soon had them visiting every summer until the dreadful business with the dragon.”

“You sound crestfallen.”

“Of course, they were a sweet couple, though they never made it official. That wife of the human’s was ever so mischievous, but the perfect fit for that tiger gryph and his knight.”

“Then why haven’t you invited them to sooth the aching of their heart?” Veren rose a brow, “Forgive me but I must state the obvious, it would suit you well to have the skills of one such as Arcturus under your wings. Who knows when that talent would prove useful.”

“You’ve certainly given me cause to think on it, I’ve been quite…busy of late. Though, I’m sure they’ll reach out when they’ll have need of me.” He thought to Leon as the dull roar of dozens of gryphons and humans engaged in conversation reached his ear.

“Or is it that this Leon character of yours proves ever more useful than even one such as Arcturus Lund and Skywing?”

“Why aren’t you being persistent.”

“I wonder how loyal this mercenary of yours truly is, if the allure of coin might sway his head.”

“You’re free to try, but know that I have him pinned beneath me most the time- “

“Pinned beneath you?” Veren chuckled as Olas’ ears did splay.

“You very well know I mean keep him busy.”

Veren shook his head with a laugh, “Course you did, like I’d catch you with that sort of riff raff anyway.”

“Indeed.” He chirped, feathers ruffling.

“If I did, believe my husband would die of disbelief. To think you turned him down but instead employed the services of some common spellsword- “Veren paused mid stride as they came before a great, turquoise door, decorated with strands of string with blooming, vibrant flowers.

“What’s the matter?”

“We forgot something…. But what…” The gryphon’s eyes fell upon him, searching Olas from tuft tail to his blackened ear tips. Veren’s eyes widened as he pulled back his head with a surprised squawk, “Olas I kept you from getting properly dressed!”

Was that all? The lord dismissed his friend with a huff and flare of his wings, “Not a problem Veren, watch.” He rose onto his hind legs, brushing his chest with his hand, chanting the words of draconic power. As he hissed upon the air with snarls and grunts, magic wove its way over him, it swelled and pulsed in the air, gaining power with every syllable.

Fabric burst into being of a darkened navy vest with sleeves of grey blue that ended in white frills. The vest traveled down his flank, holding firm but not too tight. His legs were wrapped in stockings of white, ending with the same frills of his forearms. “Better?” He rested back to four limbs, flicking his tail with a prideful smirk, oh how he relished how wide Veren’s eyes became.

“Well, that certainly puts an end to that problem.” The gryphon pinned his ears, slinking past olas with a whine, “However, in all the excitement of our conversation I went about forgetting my husband, again. Let’s hope that he doesn’t kill me, his talons are ever so sharp.”

“If he’s not, you could always try the dance of sorrow!” Olas called after him, “I hope that I see you again my friend! If not, I know who to point the authorities at!” He gave a wave, only to get an exasperated chirp in return. “Suppose it’s not as fun when the anklet is on the other paw.” He sighed, wheeling about to face what he was sure to be a pleasing evening, “At least when Leon arrives.” He chuckled, wiggling his haunches before pressing forward, out into his awaiting crowd.

** * * * ** *

Upon his arrival, Olas swiftly became the talk of the evening. Guards that watched over the guests turned to greet him, servant’s eyes beamed at the arrival of such a prestigious guest. Conversations that had been fully entrenched between politics, the war and land holdings, shifted to the gryphon and his mystical abilities. He was forced to bow, give thanks, and greet every soul that came to this feast.

The hall he found himself in was meant to draw the eye, build up the image of Deri, possibly even allow for him to garner favors or trust. Its vanilla walls were pristine, interwoven with clay to give the appearance of the southern woods. The tables were of elven make, carved by hand, not a hint of magic about them. Chairs were spread out along the lengthy surface made for whomever sat their haunches upon them, gryphons had ones where they could rest their bellies, two leggers ones that would elevate them so they could eat eye to eye with their gryphon hosts. The silverware that was laid before the guests was well polished, engraved with dwarven runes, the forks and knife handles woven out of elk horn, they looked as if they belonged in some dragon’s treasure vault instead of used to shovel food.

Olas, through pleased to see so many cheery faces, could not help but see through the façade for what it was. All of them were polite, smiling, but hiding their true intentions beneath the surface of their mask. Each was waiting to pounce, an agenda in their paws, compliments had purpose, praise contained malice, each wished to garner favor with him, not a true soul rested within these walls. He would sigh and look upon the enchanted ceiling, watching the false images of stars twinkle away, wishing to please him. All the lord could do was grumble and settle into his seat, lying about his thanks to those he crossed.

His place was at the mayor’s side as he expected, right at the head of the table. Deri was already laughing away, settled down next to his wife, each dressed in extravagant attire that flowed off them like lavender waterfalls. As Olas settled into the brown cushioned seat, resting on his belly, he could not help but notice the empty two-legged seat next to him, the one meant for Leon. Wasn’t he supposed to be here? The lord’s heart quivered, doubt flickering across his brow, had he not received his message?

“And here is my great friend Olas!” Deri announced proudly to those that would hear, slinging a wing around the wizard’s shoulder, “He and I go decades back, quite the rascal he is!”

“Yes…quite.” His response was meek, unfocused as he pulled himself from the empty chair. Searching through the hall didn’t fair him better, revealing that every well-dressed human or gryphon within had what he assumed to be their champions at their side. His tail flicked to all the wonder-filled faces, of those that didn’t typically dine with the higher class, each was dressed in their noble’s colors, what Leon should have been.

“And where is this adventurous rogue of yours?” Deri asked, gesturing to the seat as he plucked a tankard off the table, swishing it around before bringing it to his beak and taking a drink.

Breath grew shallow, feeling inquisitive eyes falling upon him. Perhaps the mercenary had been held up? Got himself wrapped up in some crazy adventure, he chuckled to himself over his troubling mind, that’s what must have happened. Why else would he not be here at his side, making small talk and flirting? His paws trembled as Isadora’s words whispered to him.

“He will never love you, he’s only using you idiot.”

“Just got held up I’m sure, you know his sort of life can be!” He laughed, taking a goblet of wine once offered to him, “Sent to go smack rats, rescue some cats, tear apart undead. Who knows what fangled nonsense that will grace my ear next.” A sip of the bitter liquid pressed down the embarrassment, the coming chuckling from his peers did more. They’d bought it, “Don’t you worry Deri, he and I shall have words of arriving on time.”

With that disaster avoided, and his goblet efficiently drained, Olas began distracting the nobles and himself with his tricks and magic. He showcased his knowledge of the magical arts, it made him feel like a foolish magician, preforming parlor tricks but it pushed down the empty hole in his heart, causing him to keep flicking his attention to Leon’s empty chair.

Each minute that it remained empty was another blow against his spirits, made his crown feathers wilt, drain his joyous chirp of its vibrancy. The excuse that he told himself was starting to not ring true, battering away at his resolve. The lord downed a second goblet, then a third, numbing the trembling of his hands.

“I can’t help but notice your champion is absent.” Veren padded over to Olas’ side, a crème and brown colored gryphon at his side.

“How observant of you.” Grumbled Olas into his goblet, staring at his reflection in the blood red liquid. “I’ve expressed to the others it’s just another hiccup, a bump in the road, he would be here if he could, I promise you that.”

“Unfortunate.” Veren gave an empathetic sigh, before nuzzling along the gryphon at his side, “But let’s put a silver lining on this turn of events, you remember my husband, Lagus?”

The crème feathered gryphon bowed his head, the flowing orange garments that coating him reaching the floor like a grand dress. His ears were like that of dried bark, with a trio of golden piercings in each one. He flicked his tiger-like tail, it’s striping the same color of his ears. “It’s always a pleasure Olas, much better to see you like this than out within the bushes.”

“The bushes?” Olas cocked his head, “When have we met- “

“Three years back, at the solstice of Sartren. We were out for a romantic stroll.” Lagus nudged his husband with a loving chirp, blue eyes twinkling, “We were getting away from all the crowds, the commoners, when what might catch our ears?”

“Oh no.” He knew where this was going, that night becoming increasingly clear.

“We found you, out within the bushes like an animal, tending to yourself.”

He couldn’t tell them he hadn’t actually been alone, Leon had been right there, tending to the gryphon’s needs. They’d almost been caught, only saved by a hasty spell of invisibility, trapping the half-elf between the lord’s legs. Olas’ ears splayed as Lagus approached.

“And then when I offered to help relieve my lord of his burdens I was refused.” Lagus lashed his tail, feathers ruffling, “Were my feathers not pretty enough for you that night, was my tail not accommodating for you Olas?”

This was not where he expected this to go. The lord gave a nervous chuckle, “I’ve already apologized for this Lagus, you needn’t bring it up every time we meet! Your feathers are delightful as always.”

“You think so?” Lagus pulled his crimson crown feathers raising with a delighted coo. Not one to be stunned for too long, the gryphon recovered with a swish of his tail. “Do go on my lord.”

“If not for my own feathers, yours might be the fairest in all our country. They could cause gryphons to weep, others to lust uncontrollably.” He batted his eye lashes, “And if it would mend the bridge between us, I promise that should I find myself in a similar situation again, I will mount your tail as hard as you wish.”

“Well now, if that is not an apology if I’ve never heard one.”

“I only speak the truth.”

“Veren darling, how come you don’t praise my feathers so?” Lagus turned, giving his husband a steeled look.

“Oh, look what you’ve done.” Sighed Veren, “My dear Lagus, you know that your feathers are prettier than my own, that I cherish each day that you chose me.”

“I knew you had it in you.”

Olas took another swig of his tankard, sneering as the two gryphons embraced and nuzzled passionately at each other’s cheek. Oh, how their affection twisted within his gut, souring his thoughts as he eyed the empty, lonely chair at his side. Leon where were you, and why were you not here, holding his cheek like Veren was doing now to his beloved.

“I love you dearest.” Veren sighed, eyes locked to Lagus’ own.

“And I you my feather muffin.” Cooed Lagus with a swishing tail.

Could they not do their drivel somewhere else? Anywhere that would not catch his ear, remind him of what he was missing. It was all he could do to smile and push on through not clacking his beak at them and sending them away. To his dismay, the food arrived before he could do so.

There was roast duck, sizzling salmon, boar that one could peel straight off the bone. Flanks of horses were stacked high on plates, forks of starving gryphons shoving in at blinding speed. Fruits and vegetables from across the realm had been gathered like an army of sweet and savory flavors that knew every shape. Olas found himself sampling star shaped apples from Rothdell, taken from a wizard’s pantry. They had a satisfying crunch, ever so juicy, the lord was fighting the urge to trill in delight. It was only a glance to Leon’s empty chair that allowed him to do so, any food he sampled after was dull and lifeless.

Over the clacking of goblets and tankards, the noble’s champions spun their stories of heroism and adventure. Dozens of harrowing, interesting tales that kept their patrons on the edge of their seats. Next came songs, filled with descriptions of the other continents they should have been crafted by the legendary bards of old. Reddening cheeks only brought bitterness to Olas’ soul as he downed goblet after goblet to numb the overpowering loneliness within his heart.

When they shifted to the dancing hall, he was forced to follow, practically pulled by Veren by the tail. He’d clacked his beak and hissed but it had not been enough, his insistent friend would not be denied.

“Come now you big sack of feathers and fluff, a bit of dancing will rouse your spirits!” The bird tugged at Olas’ tail, only to be joined by his husband.

“You can dance with me my lord! Maybe nibble at my backside?” Lagus asked.

“I thought that was my job.”

“It could be his too.”

“I don’t want to dance.” Olas groaned, “Not without my Leon. Until then, I shall drink.”

“The mercenary?” Lagus pulled back, “He dances?”

“Who knows, but I wish to teach him.” Olas fumbled, hiccupping, “Wow, that wine was strong.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but he’s not here.”

“That’s the problem, he didn’t come! I laid out everything perfectly, and what does he go and do? Doesn’t even send word.” He shook his head, his world swirling around him. “There is no way that I am going to watch all your romantic twits roam about, preening each other while I drown myself in the corner.”

“We’re only trying to help rouse you from this…whatever had gotten ahold of you!”

“Is this because you miss Isadora?” Veren cocked his head, “I knew there was something wrong!”

“I DON’T miss that dreadful witch!” Screeched Olas, inches from his friend’s face, feathers fluffed as he panted. “And I’d kindly like you to NEVER mention her in my presence if you know what’s good for you! She has always been a malignant tumor at my side, ever throbbing, painfully, making every moment of my existence a never-ending cascade of misery. Now take your loving husband and leave me alone, before I turn the whole lot of you into newts.”

All eyes fell upon his feathers as the room fell to a deathly silence. Some looked to him as if this was some grand joke, others surprised that the charming Olas had suddenly shook with fury, furrowed his brow, made a threat that he was more than capable of carrying out. He didn’t care, not as his thoughts turned to the man behind all this turmoil, the one who gave truth to Isadora’s words. Olas wheeled about, smacking his friend with his tail, certain he caught Isadora’s smirking visage in the corner of his eye.

He didn’t let servants stop him, they stayed clear from his gaze. It burned with the intensity of the sun; his talons scraped the floor as if he were an unruly beast. Every flick of his tail told the story of a hunt, one where the predator would tear apart its chosen prey; his prey for this night was the guard captain that was supposed to deliver the message to Leon. That was his only hope to vindicate the half-elf, that this incompetent gryphon had simply been unable to deliver the invitation.

“That’s why he did not show.” Growled Olas, as he tasted the cool, evening air.

The guards were not hard to find, they lingered close to the estate. Some had gathered to play dice and bet their coin, others to drink and sing songs. For them it would have been an easy night, quiet, but not when Olas thundered in before them, lightning crackling off his talons.

“Tell me where Clotho is before I tear this place apart!” He demanded, slamming down a crackling talon.

Fear permeated their faces, unwilling to ever infuriate the raging tempest before them. Beaks shared knowing looks before gesturing to the guardhouse and swiftly moving out of the raging gryphon magician’s path.

“Clotho! You best present yourself this instant! My patience has run its course!”

With a meek whine, the guardhouse door creaked open, revealing the golden armor wearing gryphon. Clotho strode out, head down as if a child scolded. He took a few steps, the plates rattling together, the helmet sliding over his eyes as he turned to see if anyone was at his side, no one was.

“I thought we were all taking the blame here?” Clotho squawked.

“You’re the commander sir, everything is your fault!” Replied a male gryphon.

“Good luck sir, it was nice knowing you!” Added a female gryphon.

“Cowards, the lot of you!” The leader’s voice cracked as he swiveled back, the weight of his armor carrying him forward. With a crash that pinned every ear around, the captain was a groaning pile of metal and feathers. “What can I do for you lord Olas?”

Oh, he had no patience for this. Olas was at the gryphon’s side in the blink of an eye, a deadly spell already on his beak. Green light flashed through his wings, glimmered in his eyes as he hissed the draconic words. He touched the gryphon’s armor at his spell’s apex, letting it’s destructive energy flow. Steel broke apart before his eyes, torn to shreds by bright, glowing green rivers that spread across their surface. By the time the lord’s hands touched back to the ground, the captain’s armor was nothing more than dust.

“My armor!” Clotho screeched, falling to his belly, staring at what had been his, “That was a treasured family heirloom! It was my fanciest armor, it was-“

“Nothing more than dust in the wind.” Olas clacked his beak inches from Clotho’s own, “What did you do wrong?”

“Wrong? That could be so many things, we could have got the shifts wrong, mixed up breaks.” Clotho retreated with a gulp, ears stitching themselves to his head as Olas followed him, “So you’ll have to be a bit more specific my lord.”

“Leon you simpleton, my darling Leon. Why isn’t he right here, enjoying the festivities with me? I gave you an order, did I not? To find him, deliver the message and his suit! Did you or your minions perchance get lost?” He’d trapped Clotho against the guardhouse wall.

“We…did deliver the message.” The gryphon stuttered, shifting his eyes, looking for an escape.

“And? I can’t help but notice the lack of my darling Leon!”

Clotho winced as it bitten, trying to muster the words.

“Well speak! I demand it of you!”

“Do you promise to not take my job my lord?”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t turn you into a horse and keep you as a prized pony! Now speak!”

He sighed, “The man told us to get mounted sir, that he didn’t want to attend some fancy party. He said if you wanted to see him, you’d have to go visit him at The Welcoming Nest, a local tavern that is quite popular. They have a lovely elk stew- “

“I don’t care how lovely their…did you say Elk?” Olas shook his head, he’d not be distracted, “If that’s the case, why on this gods created plane did you not TELL me.”

It was then that Clotho clamped tight his beak, cowering before the now trembling lord. Eyes flicked to crackles of light that sparkled off the mage’s talons. He opened his beak once then swiftly clamped it shut, seeming to shrink as Olas’ feathers fluffed.

“He didn’t want to be the one to bare the bad news to you.” The female gryphon announced from out of sight.

“And hoped you’d believe that your guest had merely forgotten!” Added the male gryphon.

“TRAITORS!” Clotho squawked for half a moment before Olas’ thunderous shriek silenced him.

“YOU MEAN THIS ENTIRE TIME; ALL I’VE HAD TO DO TO SEE MY DARLING LEON WAS TO FLY THERE?” He grabbed Clotho by the scruff of his neck, “WHEN I RETURN, I’LL SEE TO IT THAT YOU NEVER HOLD THIS JOB AGAIN. COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY THAT I WISH TO SEE HIM OVER STAYINGA MINUTE LONGER WATCHING YOU COWER.”

“Thank you- “

He closed the guard’s beak, “I’d stop digging the hole you’ve found yourself in.” With a huff the lord turned, casting his gaze to the overcast sky as Clotho gave him directions to where Leon was dwelling. His heart throbbed in his chest, had he done something wrong? Leon’s comment stung at his feathers, made his hands tremble, was Isadora correct in what she said? He could not help but catch a cloud that resembled her mocking beak. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to get answers with these whimpering fools, only Leon could give him what he sought. He flared his wings and pounced into the air, leaving the ground behind as he set his mind for this Welcoming Nest.