Like most others, Persephone loved great creatures such as these. Unlike most others, she took great pity that Gorgynna’s selfish desires stole from them the lives they would soon no longer know. Those clueless masses watching, the Elites who thought as did Amicus … they just did not understand.
“I think you are wrong,” Amicus protested. “The gods will see the work we are about to do as purposeful. To carry out Queen Gorgynna’s bidding – they will think well of us. You will see, Persephone, you will see.”
Persephone took in a stinging breath. She then looked deep into Amicus’ handsome brown eyes set in an even more handsome face. Her next words and the tone she delivered them with were as dark as night.
“The gods might come to love such a creation, but they will punish without end those who dare mouth the spells to create it. Of this, my dear Amicus, you will see.”
Amicus gulped. His fair face then turned as grey as that of the dreary skies above.
“I am sorry,” Persephone whispered. She pulled her hood back over her head and looked forward. After many moments, out of the corner of her left eye she saw Amicus do the same. Neither one said another word. As they continued on to the great square in the middle of the capital city, Persephone shed many tears, but did not let Amicus see a single one. She shed them both for the doom they would share and the happy times she had many times dreamed they someday might, but now probably never could.
Aside from the Triumvirate, every member of the Magic Guild lived in a massive temple at the center of Elkabydos. This temple by far the most magnificent structure Sapiens had ever built, black granite made up the majority of this engineering wonder. Its builders had overlaid the black granite with cloudy grey marble at every corner and arch. A cavernous atrium at its middle dominated the temple. The arch-supported dome covering this hall rose so high, an apple heaved skyward by the strongest man could not reach it. Taking five full decades to complete, every block glistened as if freshly polished the day before.
Hunters hauled the twenty captive animals into this great hall. Although some acted calm, most paced aimlessly or flapped fretfully.
Not at all pleased to be an unwilling participant of mystic mayhem – who could blame them?
For a full day and well into the night, the Apprentices worked in silence while Persephone and the other Elites found barely a moment to rest their tongues. Spells, chants, and charms echoed off the towering walls all around them as if part of a cruel chorus. At the same time, Apprentices dropped powders, enchanted dust, and other objects onto the skittish lions and eagles. Many of these ceremonial objects made from both animal and mineral, not every animal was as of yet dead. The nasty smells that wafted about took turns making those on one side of the atrium gag before stealthily moving to the other side.
During this work, Elites would become weak and some even passed out now and then. Sometimes even in the middle of chanting a spell. When this occurred, Apprentices did whatever was necessary to revive them. More often than not, they did so quite rudely. To fulfill Gorgynna’s precious demand was their sole purpose in life now.
Persephone spoke the very last of these enchanted spells. Her last words barely more than whispers, each of the twenty animals fell into a deep slumber. Persephone then propped herself up against a cold granite wall and watched with great sadness at what came next. Although they were weary as well, Apprentices placed an eagle into each lion’s cage of the same gender. Mimicking a feathered blanket, they purposely spread out both wings over its lion ‘mate’. Next, Apprentices poured a foul smelling potion – the perfect mix of death and rotted plants – over each animal. Overcome by the stench, Persephone vomited out her sorrow more than once.
Most important was to ensure that at least some of this rancid potion made its way into every mouth. Finished, the Apprentices draped the ten barred enclosures with a dark, velvety cloth. Despite their obvious fatigue, they did all this with surprising care.
The last cage covered, the male Triumvirate directed the Apprentices to drag the Elites away. Each arm wrapped in the arms of an Apprentice on each side of her, they pulled Persephone away last. On her way out, she caught sight of the conniving queen through blurred, stinging eyes. Intense regret over what she had done stung them so badly that her free flowing tears actually helped to soothe these hurting eyes a bit. Gorgynna looked on in triumph. The creation of the Gryphon, the unnatural, but splendid, merging of lion and eagle, at hand ––
How could she not?
*****
Three full days having passed, the Elites again entered the great atrium on the morning of the fourth day. Still very weak, some already showed early signs of sickness. Every Apprentice followed just behind. Persephone cringed as she took in their smug little faces and beady eyes. For them, this scene was priceless. They had heard rumors that a crippling fate awaited each Elite – rumors confirmed, they could now see it.
The gods surely furious, Hades no doubt had already placed a noose around each of their necks. It would now be just a matter of time before he dragged Persephone and her fellow Elites, one by one, to a wasting, rotting end. Normally decades would pass between open Elite positions; the Grim now stalking them all, in about the same span of time there would be thirteen!
Their eager masters trailing them, the Apprentices split into two equal groups and separated to allow Gorgynna and the other Triumvirates to pass. As if a ruthless shepherd without a heart, the ruling ogress directed her flock of doomed lambs into a den of transformed lions.
“Come, Persephone, come!” Gorgynna called. “By my side, child. Come see what your mystic gifts have gifted all.”
In truth, Persephone had no choice but to obey and, after a pause, sadly did as commanded. Hands clasped in front of her, her hooded head down, but remorseful eyes up, she stood quietly at her queen’s side.
Queen Gorgynna’s fingers twitched, and she greedily licked her lips as she approached the first cage. This cage large enough to stuff twenty Sapiens into and still covered, she hurriedly pulled the velvet cloth from it. The first to see one up close, Gorgynna appeared as if struggling not to drop onto wobbly knees in awe of the sight they now beheld. The Gryphon creature all gawked at – a male still asleep – was more marvelous than any of their wildest dreams could have ever hoped.
“Guided by my unyielding will,” Gorgynna whispered breathlessly, “I have molded a creature the gods would never dare try to.”
Three blurred images reflected back at Persephone off the cage’s corner panel. They were of the historian, Apadimex, and the other two Triumvirate members trailing just behind. By that impossibly wide grin her horse teeth barely fit into, Persephone realized Gorgynna had noticed them too. As his position demanded, Apadimex dutifully scribed onto bamboo strips her every word and mannerism. Sapiens as a race obsessed with history, it was Gorgynna’s turn to focus on making her own.
Face aglow, the selfish sovereign ran her fingers along the bars of the cage as if playing the harp. With careful steps, Gorgynna strolled around the cage a full turn before returning to where she started. She then did so again, practically prancing this time around.
This pompous queen could certainly teach a strutting peacock a thing or two!
At the same starting spot once more, Gorgynna beamed with a near blinding brilliance, as if she had just swallowed the sun. In between astonished gasps, she spoke with a soft reverence.
“The princely body of a lion painted a rich golden brown … a cross between a lion and eagle head its crown,” Gorgynna bragged as she inspected his noble head. No doubt spoken to taunt Persephone, these words were part of the closing spell she had spoken three days earlier.
This Gryphon, like every other, owned the ears of a lion, but pointed at the tips instead of rounded. His extended snout bared teeth, but then molded into a fantastic beak that could easily sever an arm in a single snap. The long tail of a lion for the most part unchanged; it was now thicker at the base, more flexible, and able to grasp light obj
ects.
Silver eyes tinged with gold opened suddenly. This startled Persephone, but at the same time froze her in place. The Gryphon looked at Gorgynna, but did not move; he simply followed her with his eyes as she paced in a tight circle. His face a splendid mix of lion and eagle; it was fuller than an eagle’s face – more like that of a lion – but just as many feathers as tufts of fur covered it. Same as a lion, his eyes were set forward. Despite this, their spells demanded that a Gryphon possess the spectacular eyesight of the most cunning eagle.
“Forelimbs ending in massive talons to shred prey, rear limbs to pounce – lucky for us we will breed them to be submissive!” Gorgynna howled. “To not allow the taste of live blood, I think it would be best if we hunted for them!”
Aside for the giddy queen, the sight of this prospective bondservant continued to stun the rest of them into silence. Apadimex and the two Triumvirates appeared as if afraid to take in even a single breath. Persephone looked behind her; the other Elites and Apprentices seemed to be just as amazed.
How could none of them see the pure cruelty in this?
Persephone was awed as well, but did not see this as some great triumph. Because of these thoughts, because of her role in it all, she wept quietly. And in the excitement of unveiling the Gryphons, no one appeared to care. Not even Amicus.
The Gryphon sat up, tipped his beak to the sky, and let out his first yawn. Next, as if bowing before Gorgynna, her majestic slave lowered his head slightly. He puffed out his chest and tried to expand his breathtaking wings, but the sides of the cage prevented him from fully doing so. He growled softly and shivered to express his frustration at this.
“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 than
ks. 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.
The Fifth Codex Page 14
