by Rex Hazelton
Being aware of her aversion to damp weather, Mittens and Slim spent many a night snuggling up to Muriel as rain-filled clouds emptied themselves on the tropical island. On these occasions, the two growing cubs rehearsed the bed time stories their parents had told them. The company of her two friends, and the tales they told, always chased away the fitful nightmare riddled sleep Muriel was accustomed to.
The food growing on Stromane was much different from the sustenance found in Nyeg Warl. It was of a tropical variety, a variety that included various citrus trees, as well as an abundance of banana trees growing along the island's southern shore. By watching wild pigs rooting about, the griffin were able to ascertain which plants humans could safely eat.
Birds of every color and description lived on the island- as well as lizards, snakes, rodents, several types of monkeys, apes, a number of minuscule deer and small leopards. During one of these trips, Seym Blood told Muriel the griffin were the beneficent lords and guardians of Stromane. They were the centurions that ensured the island's ecosystem would function uninterrupted by outside intrusions. He explained, in centuries past, they had thwarted the efforts of humans who tried to plunder Stromane's vast bird population in an effort to gather their beautiful feathers.
Tor Blood taught Muriel about the covenant the griffin made with the creatures of Stromane, a covenant that was now an important part of the Law of Sea and Sky. Long ago, the Community of Blood took a sacred oath, vowing they would never eat the flesh of any creature walking in the warl, or flying in its skies. From that time forward, the awesome beasts looked to the ocean for sustenance. In time, the griffin moved out of Stromane's jungles, making the crystalline cliffs, bordering the ocean, their home. Muriel learned a fundamental tenant of the Law of Sea and Sky taught that strength was to be used to protect the weak. Because of their beliefs, the griffin abhorred those who used their power to oppress others. That's why men like Ab'Don, Koyer and Schmar were their mortal enemies.
It was raining heavily the day Tor Blood entered the Cave of Meeting to explain how this particular portion of the Law of Sea and Sky came to be. Once in the cave, the noble elder saw Muriel was in the company of Shar Blood and Nazar Blood. To the youngsters' astonishment, the revered sage permitted them to stay. Reining in their normal youthful behavior, Slim and Mittens sat with jaws dropped in amazement at the honor the renowned teacher extended them. Their eyes widened in wonder when they heard the first lines of The Day of Making, the hallowed centerpiece to the Law of Sea and Sky, rolling out of the huge griffin's mouth. Though they had heard their parents recite the legend many times before, only griffin who were going through the Rites of Passage, a ceremony marking a young griffin's entrance into adulthood, were privileged to hear the revered sage tell the story.
Standing near the cave's mouth, Tor Blood began his recitation. The storm, raging behind him, cast lightning bolts into the sea, illuminating the vast expanse of water, making it look like it was a beautiful fire opal.
“Little Sister,” Tor Blood began slowly, “we of the Community of Blood have not always appeared as you now see us. We have not always been griffin. Long ago, we looked much like the birds, presently inhabiting the island, do. At that time, our plumes were more highly prized by the humans, than any other. We were, by their reckoning, considered to be Stromane's treasure, a treasure inspiring the profiteers of the Warl to make the long voyage to our island where they hunted us down, slaughtering our ancestors until only twelve of our kind remained.”
As fate would have it, eventually another ship appeared off our island and deposited its lethal crew on our shores, a crew that was determined to pluck the last grape from off the vine so to speak. In time, all twelve of our ancestors had been either netted or shot down with arrows. Those that had been caged watched as their slain brethren were stripped of their beautiful feathers and cast into a pile destined to be consumed in fire.”
Knowing they were doomed to the same fate as the others, our fathers wailed, lamenting their extinction. Unbeknownst to them, the blood flowing out from the corpses of their dead brothers and sisters carried their cries to the warl's heart, awakening the magic that slept there.”
Moved to compassion by the horror of extinction, the magic rose up into the skies spreading over our island, filling it with a panoply of swirling colors. But the magic came too late to save our ancestors. Looking down out of the cloud of many colors, the warl's power watched the lifeless bodies of the last of our kind being thrown into the fire. While the frail bodies were reduced to ashes, the incensed magic gathered all its strength and cast itself into the flames. When it did… the fire went out! Only ashes remained.”
The next day, as the fowlers were loading the ship with their prize, along with fruit taken from the island, the Warl's Magic stirred the ashes, filling them with the light of its power. Soon, a maelstrom of blinding colors swirled about the burnt remains, reforming our ancestors' bodies.”
The men, in their ship, saw this magical whirlwind engulf their victim's ashes that were carelessly discarded on Stromane's beaches. Filling their hearts with fear, swirling gale force winds were cast against the ship's sails, tearing them to shreds. The whirlwind continued growing until it rose high above the island. Then, more quickly than it had begun, the wind dissipated, leaving behind Mar Blood, she who became the mother of all the griffin, and Av Blood, he who became our sire.”
Terrified by what they beheld, the fowlers shot their feeble arrows at the terrible beasts that were soaring in the heavens high above them. After the arrows fell woefully short of their targets, our parents retaliated. Seeking revenge, angered by the senselessness of extinction, they pounced on the ship and feasted on human flesh. After a fierce battle, the ocean was awash with a red splinter-filled stain, and the first griffin walked in Stromane.”
Remembering their former appearance, Mar Blood and Av Blood called the creatures of Stromane together and told them what had happened. Filled with trepidation at the sight of the griffin, the animals began melting away into the jungle until our parents vowed to never eat the flesh of any creature living on dry land. They promised to retell this story to their children, so they would remember who they had been and what they had vowed. Filled with the Warl's Magic, the griffin- who at one time had been frail and beautiful birds but now were the strongest of all Stromane's creatures- chose to do for others the thing not done for them. We chose to use our powers to defend the weak and helpless. Eschewing wealth, except the wealth of truth and friendship, neither building castles for ourselves, we have chosen to live as you now see us doing, relying on whatever nature provides, just as we once did, when our ancestors were fragile birds.”
Having explained how the Law of Sea and Sky's foundational precept came to be, the one stating strength must be used to help the weak, Tor Blood gracefully wheeled about to face Muriel and added, “Little Sister, you are undergoing a miraculous change much as we griffin have. You are in the midst of being transformed from one who could not defend herself, as we once were unable able to defend ourselves, to becoming a formidable foe predators will fear attacking.”
Instead of being encouraged by the griffin's words, Muriel appeared frustrated. “But I have not changed shape nor grown fangs and claws like the griffin have. I am still the frightened woman I was when I lived in Schmar's cave.”
“Little Sister, you may not have grown fangs and claws, but you are growing in strength, hope and resolve, things you'll need to walk free like the griffin do. And do not mistake this, you are not alone, for you have been accepted into the Community of Blood. If no others will stand with you… we will. You are welcome to live among us as long as you desire, and if you ever choose to leave, you can return whenever you want.”
Lightning rippled across the sky. Gale force winds made loud groaning sounds as they swept across the cave's entrance. Looking past the mighty griffin and out into the fierce storm, Muriel wondered if this was what it was like at the dawn of creation, a day full of fury and
wonder. Nudging Muriel to the cave's mouth, Tor Blood stood beside the woman as they watched the travailing storm together. Once Shar Blood and Nazar Blood had joined them in their vigil, the renowned teacher roared when a lightning bolt flashed across the heavens, looking like the branches of a great electrical tree, one as big as the sky itself.
Then in the wake of the following thunder, he roared again and proclaimed. “You are no longer slave, but are now free; you are no longer weak, but are now growing strong; you are learning to doubt the lie that told you were worthless and you are learning the truth about yourself; you are no longer alone; you are now Muriel Blood, griffin-woman, and little sister to the community of griffin!”
Shar Blood and Nazar Blood joined the teacher in sending volley-after-volley of roaring into the heart of the storm. As if in response, the winds changed directions and blew headlong into the crystalline cliffs, where they stood. Drenched in the pelting rain, the griffin continued roaring. In time, other roars could be heard coming from all across the towering white cliffs. The pride was feeding off the magic they felt resonating out of the Cave of Meeting. Heedless of the storm, fiery eyes, ignited by the flashing lightning, glared out into the night- muscles taunt, claws extended. For the first time in Muriel's memory, she didn't seek to escape the water splashing upon her face, she didn't budge as the lightning bolts danced among the crystalline stone, nor did she flinch when the thunder's mighty booms filled the air about her, reverberating off Stromane's towering cliffs. Though she was drenched to the core, she didn't seek shelter. Unwaveringly, she faced the oncoming storm.
Standing beside her friends, Muriel fell into a trance where she beheld her childhood home burning like a funeral pyre. Dark creatures leaping about, rejoiced in its destruction. Neither fear nor distress touched her as she witnessed the tragic event. In time, the fire burned itself out, and all that was left were ashes. Yet out of the midst of this utter ruin, a breeze began to stir until it became a great whirlwind that carried the remains of her home into the sky. Higher-and-higher it grew until it reached above the tallest mountain top.
Once the whirlwind subsided, Muriel beheld a woman riding on a griffin's broad back, soaring through the sky above where her home had once stood. The creatures, who had destroyed her home, stood perplexed by the wind and the ashes falling like snow to the ground. Muriel saw terror grip them when the ash-filled blizzard ended and they beheld the winged-lion and its rider swooping down upon them.
Looking at the woman, riding the terrible griffin, Muriel saw herself. Can it be? Like the griffin who had risen from the ashes of her own destruction, she had risen from her sufferings to become her oppressor's bane.
Waking from her trance, Muriel heard roars coming from the pride, now gathered in the turbulent skies about the Cave of Meeting's mouth. She saw huge muscular bodies, silhouetted by flashes of lightning, looking like an indomitable army of fang and claw. Many of the weaker griffin, who feared risking the powerful storms winds, crawled catlike along the perpendicular cliffs, making their way toward the cave.
Soon, a cacophony of rumbling voices was heard proclaiming, “Muriel Blood! Muriel Blood! Muriel Blood!” This chant was the community's customary response to one who had just gone through the Rites of Passage.
Then Tor Blood flew off into the storm with the two cubs clinging to his back. As they departed, the lionesses began filtering into the cave until it was full of griffin. Long into the evening, the females preened Muriel and taught her the ways of the wife, mother and warrior. Eventually, the storm passed by and all was once again quiet on Stromane's white cliffs. Guttural purring sounds, those cats make, emanated from the Cave of Meeting as Muriel slept soundly in the company of the great felines.
All was well in the Community of Blood that night, for another adult had been added to the pride.
****
Muriel felt like she had spent an entire lifetime in Stromane. More than a dozen full moons had come and gone since she had arrived. The pride had now become so familiar, she could readily identify each member of the community by sight alone. Some she could identify by the nuances peculiar to their voices or roars; others were recognized by the gate with which they walked, or the posture they took when they stood. The way some griffin flew contained signature moves, revealing their identities. Strangely enough, Muriel discovered her sense of smell had sharpened to the place she could catch the scent of a griffin, or, for that matter, any other creature living in Stromane, long before she could actually see them.
One of the amusing episodes during Muriel's time spent on the cliffs of Stromane came about when Slim tried to teach her how to roar. On a day when Seym Blood took Muriel, Slim and Mittens foraging for food in the island's dense jungle, Slim struck on the idea of teaching Muriel the art of roaring. The apes, populating the jungle, sat up in the trees, curiously studying the proceedings. Many of them could be seen scratching their heads as the human tried following the young griffin's directions.
“Listen to me more closely, Muriel Blood!” The impatient cub prodded his perturbed pupil. “RRROAR!” Slim, on completing his cry, shook his head violently to add some drama to his outburst.
“Rrroar!” Muriel squeaked out her best imitation of the griffin's rumbling call. She too snapped her head back as the final bit of sound escaped her throat.
“No! No! No!” The perturbed cub exclaimed. “You sound more like a bird than a griffin.”
“Well, your ancestors once were birds,” Muriel added as she fought back the best she could.
Slim's right eye scrunched up when he heard her reply. Now, he too was scratching his head, right along with the apes who had added rocking back-and-forth from one foot to the other, as they shook the tree's branches, to the repertoire of action. Mittens, who went over to console the disconcerted woman, suggested Muriel and she roar together. The young lioness hoped her passion and expertise could be transferred to Muriel through this joint exercise. Soon, the two let out a heartfelt roar that incited the hairy audience into mimicking their efforts. Dozens of other apes let out characteristic whoops as they shook their heads in mockery of Slim's previous attempt at look menacing.
The impersonations did not go unnoticed by the young winged-lion, provoking him into renewing his criticisms of the human's feeble abilities. “Muriel Blood, you still sound like a bird!” Looking at her hindquarters like he had discovered something there, Slim added, “Quick, turn around, Little Sister, I think there's something sticking out of your rear end.” Muriel didn't hesitate to comply, thinking the young griffin had spotted a spider or something worse clinging to her. After a thorough search, she turned and looked at Slim with a befuddled expression to which the mischievous cub responded, “Oh I must have been mistaken. I thought I saw feathers growing out of your tail.”
“You little fur ball!” Muriel replied as she playfully threw a handful of leaves at her young friend.
When they arrived back at the cliffs, Slim tried as hard as he could to get Muriel and Mittens to do an encore of their bird duet, as he called it. Mercilessly, the young griffin kept roaring at Muriel trying to show her how a real griffin did it until Seym Blood finally stepped in and unleashed a mature roar that sent him rolling. Shyly looking up at his elder, who was now chuckling rather heartily, Slim concluded the instructions he had inflicted on Muriel by quietly adding, “See… that's how it's done.”
After having said this, Slim slipped away, his tail hanging between his hind legs, and to this day, he has never tried to teach Muriel how to roar again.
Chapter 15: The Trip Back
One day, when Grour Blood came to the Cave of Meeting, Muriel began speaking to her friend about her parents. “As each day passes, I find myself thinking more and more about them. I wonder if they're alive or if I have any other relatives. I'm so grateful for my family here in Stromane, I'm embarrassed to say, I've been having urges to be among other humans. I'm even more embarrassed because most of my memories of humans are not good, except for the few I h
ave of my parents.”
“Lately, my heart aches whenever I watch the cubs being cared for by their parents. It sparks a fire in my soul that makes me want to be with others of my kind.” Muriel paused and began pacing about the room, griffin-like. “Fuel is heaped upon the fire whenever I see the love and affection the griffin give their mates.” Lifting her hands palms up as if she were asking a question, she turned toward her friend and mentor. “Grour Blood, I'm confused by emotions that drop into my heart like a griffin diving into the ocean's dark green waters.”
Smiling, the winged-lion nodded his head and replied, “Muriel Blood, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. All the emotions you are experiencing are quite normal and are to be expected. If it was the other way around and one of the lionesses had been in Nyg Warl as long as you have been here, she would have felt many of the same things.”
A rumbling sound filled the cave when Grour Blood cleared his throat before going on. “The elders of the community have been discussing this very matter in our recent deliberations, and we've decided it's time for you to return to your part of the warl. Little Sister, the emotions you are wrestling with are as apparent to the griffin as they are to you. Only, I think we understand them better than you do. The fact such feelings are stirring in you, lets us know your wounds are now beginning to heal. You see, you're having a good case of healthy emotions that you wouldn't be having if Schmar's cruelty still ruled your heart.”
