The Dark Age Chronicles: The Fall of Night.
The Griffin

Ihloden groaned as he wokeup to the sun dashing its rays onto his face. Then he smiled at the treesoutside his windows who wished him good morning.

“Morning,” he mumbled atthem and got out of bed, pulling on a shirt and went to breakfast. More than aweek had passed and he was fully recovered from his ordeal at Overed. He spoke to Nurilah telling her about theSertesdroy and the effect that the man had on his because of the Griffinfeather. Nurilah had shook her head.

“I don’t know anything about these people,”she had said, “Keep low for a while then Ihloden. If they have the feather thenLyficen is onto the fact that there is a Griffin alive. He will be out forblood now.” Ihloden greeted his mother and sister with a kiss on the cheek foreach and shoved down his food. With a quick shower and another parting cheekkiss he went to work. Everyone had heard of his Overed adventure and wastreating him like some kind of local hero. He had told his story leaving outcertain pieces and the word spread like wildfire and changed so many times thatby the time he heard it again he could hardly recognize the tale. He enteredthe tavern back door and Grims shoved a tray into his face.

“Time to get to work hero,”he grinned, “Bring me some great sale today.”

Ihloden grinned back, “Itwill be the talk of the town.”

Grims pushed him out intothe deafening noise of the tavern. Everyone seemed to want him to serve them.He was worked like a dog by the customers and by Grims but the tips given werehandsome and even Grims had to admit that sales had been up since he came back.Ihloden took his lunch out into the forest. The trees were whispering gently tohim as he ate under their shade.

“Hey a song will be nice, hesaid lying on the grass, “You guys got any new ones.”

“We will sing of the Legend Griffin,” the trees said.

“Really? That Griffin isalive right now?” Ihloden asked.

“It isalive now. You will soon meet it Ihloden,” the trees said, “It is near us now.”

Ihloden sat up. “Thegriffin? Here? In Behrud at Molvn?” he exclaimed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes weare sure,” the tress answered, “Wewill sing of it in Cirvan’s language.”

The words felt old andpowerful. Ihloden felt as if he sang them something great and terrible mighthappen. He clenched his jaw till the song was done.

“Did Cirvan use thatlanguage when he created you all?” Ihloden asked.

“Yes. Itwas the language that he spoke to his people at the beginning. But it is allbut lost now.” the trees said.

Ihloden asked who stillspoke the language . The trees were about to tell him but Grims called himback. “I gotta go,” he said getting up and dusting off his pants, “Thanks forthe song. I will see you later okay?” The tress rustled their goodbyes as hewent back to work. The latter half of the day was the hard part since that wasthe time people came in for relaxation. Ihloden was longing for his daily shiftto be over long before it was time. His legs wanted to give out under him.Finally Grims took the tray from him and sent him off. As he passed through thetavern a group of men called to him, “Ihloden come have a drink with us. Tellus your tale huh?” Ihloden sighed looked at the door then back at them. “Comeon,” they prodded. He sighed again.

“Just one drink okay?” he said going over. ‘Shila is going to kill me,’ he thoughtas he sat down at the table.

It was dark when Ihlodenleft the tavern. He set out toward his house trying to walk in straight line.But that was not working out to well. The road seemed to wriggle like a snakebefore his eyes and he was trying to follow the motion in order to stay on theroad. He did not know how far he had to go to reach his house so he decidedthat a song will be best to past the time. He broke out into a love tune andmade up words for the lines he forgot. He was halfway through a newly madeverse when the trees called to him. “Ihlodencome to us,” they whispered.

“Whay?” he slurred.

“Thegriffin is on its way,” they urgently spoke, “It needs your help.” Ihloden turned back toward the woods or wherehe hoped was the woods. And he began to move as fast as he could to get to thegriffin. He could not quite put his finger on why the griffin was so importantbut it was important and he knew that he had to help. He was well down the forestpath when a rather large something was seen running toward him. He squinted hiseyes to see it better but that didn’t help. So he opened his eyes as large ashe could, but it made no difference. The place was too dark to see anythingclearly.

The whatever was comingquite rapidly and with a rather lopsided run as though it was injured. Behindit there was a white figure also moving rapidly. Soon the whatever was closeenough for Ihloden to hear the eagle-like sirens erupting from it. The creatureseemed to be warning him. As it brushed past him he realized that the head ofit was above his. He stopped and considered this as the trees rustled aroundhim.

“Ihloden!That is the Griffin! Go after it now,” they prompted him.

“But it is bigger than me,” he whined, “It’son four legs and taller than me. How am I going get that?” He turned back toface the white creature. It had stopped not too far from him. It was a woman;her skin was white and cold. He could feel the cold from that distance. Herhair was rippling upward, long and shiny white almost translucent. It was asthought her hair was being swept up by some unfelt wind. She raised her handsoutward to him and opened her mouth. Ihloden waited to hear what she was goingto say but nothing came out. He then noticed that the place was getting silent;the trees were moving but he could not hear their sound or voices. In fact itwas getting hard to breathe as well. Small waves of blue flickering lights weremoving from his side toward the woman. He stood wondering what was going tohappen and what to do when a loud woody scream came to his ears.

“RUN!” the trees shouted. He took to his heels. The griffin was farahead of him but the strength of a drunken man should never be underestimated.He was actually catching up to it. He saw from behind that much of thegriffin’s feathers and skin was been sliced off. It was then that he heard it.A long harsh wail, it was loud enough for him to firmly believe that if hesurvived he would never hear again. He looked behind and saw a wall of bluefire like sound coming after him. He glanced around in desperation and saw inthe trees a pond. It was quite deep. Deep enough for him and the griffin.

“This way!” he screamed to it, “Here Griffin!”The griffin turned sharply. It wasn’t coming fast enough. Ihloden stopped andtried to pick it up and drag it into the pond. The claws of the creaturescratched his back and chest as it flayed about in his arms. As they bothjumped into the pond the blue waves washed over them.

Ihloden saw black waterreflecting stars then the blue wave and then wet mud. The water had beencleanly driven out from under them. That meant the wave had hit them. The wailengulfed him and blinding pain and deafening sound merged into one and he fellwith his own scream stuck in his throat. Then there was silence. He feltsomething nudge him. But the touch was so light he wondered if he really feltanything at all. He couldn’t hear, feel or smell anything beyond the pain andsilence. Something brushed over his back and rolled him over onto it. Thegriffin, half of its face feather less and the skin raw under it, looked downat him. It screeched at him as if it was saying something then it glanced backand ran off. He wanted to call to it, tell it to stay to not leave him. But hewas too tired and the pain finally caught up with him and he blacked out.