Mythic Transformations

by Kris Schnee

  Here, deep in the forest where the light was dim, there stood a mossy hill. No -- a massive, blocky, manmade terrace of rock overgrown with moss and vines, three levels tall. Venn forgot the blood and grit on his hands and his skinned knees, and lay there a moment, staring.

  He whispered, "Is this what they're after? This is what we were guarding?"

  His squad had been told almost nothing. They were a bunch of farm kids didn't need to know why they were risking their lives, and they knew better than to ask. Venn had gotten a beating when he asked one question too many in training, trying to learn more about the Empire. Now a really big question loomed right in front of him.

  Venn climbed to his feet, swaying with fatigue. Somewhere nearby birds trilled, which was a good sign; they were undisturbed by anyone following him. He looked around and saw no path to take but forward. As long as he was here he might as well see the place.

  The three tiers of the ziggurat towered over him, yet even taller trees hid it from the sky. It took a while just to walk around it and avoid some ominous-looking bladed plants and a bubbling sand-pit. On one side of the building was something that might be an entryway. Venn braced his knees and scooted down a steep dirt path that led to the spot, a cluster of vines hiding a dark rectangle. He hacked at the vegetation with his sword until he had a clearer view of the pair of doors hidden behind it.

  "What are we fighting over?" Venn said again, reaching with one hand to feel the carvings on the stone doors. Most had worn away and showed only vague human shapes, but there was a clear hand-print carved into each slab too. Right where a tall, strong man would push.

  Venn lifted his right hand to put it on a print, and felt very small -- not just from having to reach up, but from being a visitor to someplace ancient and unknown. Though he hardly dared to, he pressed both hands to the stone. He stood alone in the forest and there was nowhere else he could safely go.

  With a low rumble he felt in his bones, the doorway slid open.

  Inside, a light flickered at the start of a downward hall. Venn took a few steps and the walls glowed, leading him along. Someone or something knew he was here! His heart raced and he called out, "Hello?", but heard only his echo.

  The light took him through twisting halls to a room so big its upper reaches were lost in the shadows, hinting at a tangle of metal cords up there. All along the walls stood glassy jars bigger than a wagon on end and covered with frost. Venn shivered. Whatever this stuff was, it came from ancient times and might do anything at all. No two legends agreed.

  Still, no one had threatened him yet for wanting to know.

  He tapped one of the glass tanks with the edge of his steel sword. It rang beautifully. Between the tanks were stone pedestals, each with a set of glassy knobs. One knob glowed on each.

  "Hello?" he said again. "Who's controlling the lights?" But no one volunteered an answer. How could there be no one here, then? Was this place run by ghosts? He felt more frustrated than scared as he hit the glowing button beside him.

  The nearest glass tank hissed and made Venn jump away. Cold mist washed over him. The tank hummed.

  Thump. Something struck the tank from inside. Venn stared as a big shape started to appear through the frost and the glass slid, opening...

  Venn wasn't quite curious enough to stick around. He dashed out of there, feeling his boots pound the hard stone floor. The lights didn't follow him. He was just reaching the dark hall when a cold wind stirred the chamber again and he risked a glance over his shoulder. Something big had landed in the dimness behind him! Up the hall he ran, hoping that the ghosts hadn't shut the door on him.

  From somewhere behind there came a plaintive, piercing whistle. It stunned him; it was like music or the cry of a hawk. He stopped and turned.

  Below was a soggy beast with golden fur and feathers like clouds. Its blade-beaked face fixed him with eyes like the sky. The creature wasn't trying to kill him yet, wasn't really doing anything; it was just watching. Waiting.

  For what? Venn knew well enough about horses, sheep and capybara, but what was this thing? Head like an eagle, paws like a lion... "Griffin!"

  The griffin tilted its head at the sound. Venn found it funny, like a sign of recognition. He supposed he'd be baffled too if he'd woken up in a glass tank. But he didn't laugh; he'd seen people die today, some he knew. The griffin eyed him and it was hard to look away. Maybe he could coax it outside to find food other than him.

  It could help in the war! It was big and powerful, so maybe it could be trained to fight -- and those were wings on its back, so maybe it could fly like a dragon. Venn sucked in a breath. It might even be something he could ride!

  He kept his hands at his sides and approached the griffin, pausing to let it smell him and size him up. He took a leathery strip of capybara jerky out of his pack, set half of it down on the floor, and backed away. After a moment the griffin jerked its head slightly down and took shaky steps towards the meat. Venn waited, holding his breath. The griffin gave him a look of disdain, as if to ask Is That All?, but leaned down to devour the offering. Venn knelt and tossed the other half of the food a short distance from him. The griffin drew closer, hind-claws and fore-talons clicking on the floor. The long-still air stirred and whistled with each twitch of its wings.

  "Trust me yet?" said Venn, watching it eat again. He'd learned you had to be careful around animals, of course, but you had to be open with them too. Meet them partway, give them a reason to like you. "I'll lead you out."

  He took a step closer and the griffin locked eyes with him again. Very slowly he put out a hand, ready to snatch it back, and when nothing got bitten he touched the soft white feathers of the creature's head. A little chirp came from its beak but it made no move to attack him. A thrill went through Venn: here was a big, dangerous creature that could easily kill him, yet it chose not to! "Okay," he said. "Follow me. Come."

  When he backed away, the griffin followed. Its steps were surer now. Venn walked back the way he'd come, and soon found the griffin walking beside him. The first sign of it was the feeling of its warm fur brushing against him in the cool air. Venn smiled, feeling a little safer, and better still when the door rumbled open at his approach.

  Now the griffin ran ahead so that Venn struggled to keep up. It bounded two feet at a time with talons in front, claws in back, and burst through the doorway into the blinding forest light. Venn was left standing just outside as the griffin sprinted away and with two beats of its wings launched itself into the air. The world turned dim again as Venn's eyes adjusted, and he stood reaching forward as though he could pull the griffin back.

  In a rush of wind that scattered leaves, the griffin swooped back into view. Venn ran up the slope to meet it, and it lowered its head and let him scratch it. "So, you do trust me. I'll take good care of you. Do you have a name?" Someone had put the beast in that frozen tank a long time ago for just such an occasion... How did he know that? "I'll call you Nev," he said on the spur of the moment, after a horse he'd once had. The griffin squawked, and he... Venn didn't get a good look, but somehow it was obvious this was a "he"... seemed to approve of the name.

  Venn was still thinking about daring to climb up on the griffin, and in fact "Nev" was standing there with bird-legs bent as if expecting it. Venn edged closer and stroked the griffin's hide where feathers met fur, then leaped up onto the broad back. Muscles rippled under the shoulder-fur.

  Nev gave another piercing whistle and galloped ahead all at once! Venn yelped and clutched at fur and feathers. He clenched his knees against its sides. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea!" Nev darted this way and that through the forest so that Venn was tempted to let himself fall off before the griffin could throw him hard, but already he risked breaking his neck. "I'm not going to hurt you, really!"

  Now Nev bounded into the air again and Venn was really in for life or death. The huge white wings were clouds around him, curtains, a peaked roof meeting over his head, and there were walls of trees everywhere.
They were going to crash! Nev swerved left and down so that the ground was straight below and he could barely hang on; his fingers were iron. Just as he was about to fall, the turn leveled out. Nev was swooping down to the ziggurat's peak. Stopping. Venn breathed hard and relaxed a little. After a moment Nev turned his head to peer at him sidelong.

  Venn could swear it was grinning!

  So maybe it had been a riding beast all along, trained for combat. He couldn't see Nev being used to deliver mail. He flexed his aching fingers and when he could speak again he muttered, "Okay, I trust you."

  Nev waited for him. Venn got a better grip this time by holding his arms around Nev's shoulders. The beast's feathers tickled Venn's chin. "Can we go back to town? I'll steer."

  As if on cue, Nev shoved the ground away and they were airborne again, flapping towards a sunlit hole in the forest canopy. Venn shivered and tried not to look down as the griffin arced upward, making him feel like up was forward. They burst up through the trees, making leaves splash against Venn's skin. Nev swerved back down, forcing him to see how high up they were. Venn gasped and buried his face in the feathers but they were still falling; he could feel it in his gut...

  "Nev! Up!" He lifted his face just in time to see them flapping away from the trees just below, wings grazing branches. "What are you doing?!"

  The beaked face whirled in an exaggerated arc as if to say, "Look!"

  "Look?" said Venn, just as Nev dived again. This time when his stomach clenched he made himself stare ahead, down at the world, and he knew his griffin could handle it, wouldn't get him killed. He gritted his teeth and watched as Nev wheeled back up.

  "You're... training me?" he asked when they'd leveled off. Nev only chirped. "Fine, then. Go right!" He leaned and felt Nev lean beneath him, making a gentle turn. The ground was almost straight below again but he could hang on long enough to coax Nev back to level. He even let go with one hand at a time to flex his fingers, before settling fully on the griffin's back again and saying, "Okay. Let's find the town." The enemy might be gone by now, if they were just passing through.

  It was easy to spot the town once he looked, because it was on fire.

  They stalled in midair at the sight. Quickly recovering, they raced closer and saw dragons perched on the ground, and their riders rounding the people up. There was the general store where he'd shopped every week; there was the temple, just starting to burn. "Go!" said Venn.

  One of the enemy riders was carrying a box of stolen clothes out of someone's house, to a green dragon dozing in the hazy sunlight. Venn urged the griffin into a dive. The two of them landed just in time to find the Imperial soldier turning towards the gust of wind they'd raised.

  "You've wrecked everything!" Venn said. "This is our land and you've got no right to be here!"

  The soldier dropped the box -- fancy clothes, too nice for him -- and reached for his crossbow. He sputtered, "What is that?!"

  "Griffin." Venn scratched Nev's flank and said, "Can you fight, Nev?"

  The griffin's expression said, Oh, Please. This man was the enemy, and was probably one of the ones who'd attacked his squad and burned the town. Yeah. Venn had to kill him.

  Then the world shook and a single swipe of the dragon's tail knocked Venn into the air to crash into a wall. The impact slammed the air from his lungs. He lay there crumpled, gasping for breath.

  The dragon was a massive scaly presence in between him and Nev. But the griffin was between the dragon and its rider too, creating a standoff. Venn's shield and sword were nearby. He scrambled for them while trying to breathe again. The Imperial fired his crossbow but only managed to shoot his own dragon's hide, doing it no harm. Nev shrieked and menaced the man with a swipe of his talons. The dragon slapped the ground with one foreleg, advancing on Nev. Furnace-heat rippled the air around its head as it prepared to breathe fire.

  Venn could only cower -- no! He made the best defense he could by forcing himself to leap ahead and swing his sword at the beast's muzzle. It reared back, growling, and he used the chance to slip sideways towards Nev. The soldier shouted something over the noise. Nev did something and the dragon snaked its head around to look, giving Venn an opening. Venn dropped his shield, took his sword in both hands and shoved the blade at the thing's neck. He felt the tip skitter along scales and then slip between them, finding a weak point. He slammed the sword deeper and twisted. Steaming blood shot out at him and a clawed leg flailed, making him jump back, knocking the weapon from his grip. There came a blur of white and gold as Nev pounced from behind, raking the dragon's back with its claws and stabbing with its beak. Venn braced himself. The embedded sword's hilt slapped his hands and he yanked it loose. He slashed again but the blood-slick blade did nothing.

  The beast roared and collapsed. Venn stood there breathing hard, scorched by steaming dragon blood. He stared at Nev on the dead thing's back. Now over the flames and the ringing in his ears Venn heard the soldier yell, "Coura!" and dash into view to press his hands against the beast's bleeding flank. When he looked back at Venn it was with absolute hatred that drove Venn back like a fist in his gut. "She was my best friend," the soldier said, and drew a long knife from his belt.

  "You attacked us!" said Venn. "Nev, help!"

  The soldier screamed and charged at Venn. Venn's arms rang as he parried twice, outclassed by the man's strength and fury. He was against the wall again.

  Nev leaped at the Imperial soldier. He spun around and ducked under the first swipe of Nev's talons. The second blow caught him in the chest and flung him to the dirt, bent at an unnatural angle. He didn't get up.

  Venn dropped his sword. He and Nev were suddenly the only ones left alive. Fire was spreading all around and starting to turn the air into burning poison. Though he feared the griffin's power he stepped forward to embrace Nev's head and give thanks. They'd done the killing together; it was both their faults. They'd had to.

  He'd forgotten about the surviving villagers! He hadn't seen anyone left in the town, only the ones being taken away in single file. Maybe he could still save them. He climbed onto Nev and without a word they were in the air again.

  Everybody was being marched out of town, under guard by a dozen foot soldiers who kicked anyone who strayed. Where were the other dragons?

  A shadow blotted out the sun right overhead.

  Venn shouted and got Nev swerving out of the way just as a dragon-rider slammed down at them. Wind whooshed by. They looked up to find an enemy rider diving at them while a second pulled up from his attack. Together Venn and Nev sensed the height advantage and went after the lower one, looking to beak-stab the dragon like a falling hawk.

  Fighting the things in the air was tougher than on the ground. His sword was useless here. The diving attack missed, too. It was all he could do to hold on and try to guide their moves, while huge wings whirled around him. Smoke streamed up and made his eyes water. They had to get higher.

  During his climb, one of the dragons came out of nowhere and slammed Nev in the chest. The griffin flailed with its claws but the world shook, the horizon was upside-down and his fingers were digging into Nev so hard it hurt.

  He had to fight, had to kill them, had to hang on and get in control. Couldn't hold on, couldn't hold back...

  Then he was flipping around in midair, fighting to stay up, and suddenly it was easy. Wings shoved the air down and the dragons circled, their riders staring at him. He shrieked and flew straight at one, grabbing a leathery wing with one taloned fist and yanking until the dragon tumbled, its rider hanging on and trying to recover. The other rider flew at him from above but he kicked himself higher at the last moment and then kicked the dragon too, feeling claws slam against scales.

  Both dragons came up again from opposite sides. Looking down at them, he hovered and muttered, "Prey."

  He pitched forward to meet them, talons outstretched. They were ready for him with snapping jaws, but he pulled away and flip-kicked, catching one dragon on the head. The other dodged and he ha
d to lash out repeatedly before knocking that one out of the air too. When the sky was empty he swooped low to find the ground troops herding his people away. There was dust washing over him as he hit the ground on all fours. The soldiers and townsfolk alike panicked. He reared up and knocked Imperials aside, threw them to the ground and into each other until nobody was left to oppose him. For another minute he darted around looking for foes, but it was over.

  His people were cowering, and they were short! He fell back onto all fours and stepped closer saying, "It's all right. I got them." They drew back and he frowned, his beak clacking.

  Beak?

  He lifted one hand and saw he had golden, bloody talons, fading into the white feathers of his arm.

  Then he was falling off of Nev, out of Nev, to land on his back in the dirt. Battered and exhausted, he lay beside the griffin thinking, What did I do?

  I did what I had to, he decided, and passed out.

  Kentauroi

  In the early days, the gods warred with each other more openly than today. Our land was spared from the suffering, because of one man.

  Cecrops, a human, had been helping his tribe to build a coastal fort. Now, he was interrupted by gods. He stood outside the stockade and trembled. In the sky was Athena, the wise, clad in her shining bronze breastplate and helmet. She stood on a cloud and glowered down at the puny man. On the beach stood Poseidon, earth-shaker, wearing little more than sea-foam. Cecrops threw himself down on the sand and averted his eyes.

  Poseidon's voice boomed like thunder at sea. "Rise, mortal. We are here for a wager. You are very fortunate; you have been chosen."

  Cecrops stood up, shaking, and dared to speak. "I don't understand, glorious ones."

  Athena sighed hard enough to rustle the trees. "Don't bother with flattery. You've already been marked by fate. You and your clan are destined to rule this land and build a mighty city. The great wet one over there, and myself, will offer you gifts. All we want is for you to choose one of us as your patron goddess."