Royal Griffon Ch.17

Nic coughed raggedly, struggling to breathe through the dust in the air. He lay prone on the ground, alive somehow, the egg clutched tight in his arms. The thing shook again, the first sign of life it had demonstrated in some time. It was beaten to seven different hells, the pristine shell long gone, replaced with a cracked, stained mess that looked ready to fall apart in a stiff breeze. But it was safe, that was the important part.

Feeling something of himself returning, Nic began to absorb his surroundings. He was on one of the outlying balconies that ringed the walled courtyard, isolated from the main structure by the wall. The gate he’d dived through was completely collapsed, the pile of rubble impassable even if he weren’t exhausted. He could still hear fighting in the distance, but sounds were faint and seemed to be fading.

Nic glanced up to look at the airship hanging in the sky nearby. It had stopped firing, the many griffons and gunships returning to its open launch bays. Nic sensed that it was standing down, someone apparently having made them rethink the whole coup thing. Relief flooded Nic anew at the thought.

“There you are.”

Nic turned, his heart sinking as he saw Kalthus land on the edge of the balcony. He looked just as beaten as Nic felt, his feathers ruffled and disturbed, the remnants of his armor tattered beyond repair. He’d clearly been caught up in fighting he wasn’t prepared for, barely escaping with his life and certainly without his dignity.

“You,” he said, voice dripping with hate. “You just had to mess everything up, didn’t you groundling?”

“Give up Kalthus,” Nic said. “It’s over, you’ve lost.”

“Yes, yes I have,” he said. “She just couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see that I did all this for her. And it would have worked! Everything was in place, everything!”

He stamped his foot, digging claws into the stone.

“And then you got in the way, groundling!”

Nic said nothing, certain that he was staring down a very, very unstable soul. It wouldn’t take much to set him off, so Nic elected not to give him the chance, instead scooting away as best as he could.

“Now I’m ruined. Old bird brain will string me up, if she doesn’t do it first. Judai will perish and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

He turned his glare firmly on Nic, stabbing into him like a blade.

“But at least I can know the one who ruined everything won’t be around to see it.”

Nic didn’t waste time with a response, instead diving aside as Kalthus made his attack. The griffon flew past him like a maddened brawler, gracelessly slamming full force into the rubble. He screeched in distress, struggling to right himself as Nic backed away as fast as he could. This wasn’t a contest Nic would be winning, but if he could just delay long enough, someone might come to investigate the noise.

“Hold still!” Kalthus bellowed.

He leapt again, Nic moving to evade but they were both thrown off by a blast from the other side of the archway. It dislodged some of the rubble, the stones disintegrating under whatever spell was being used. No direct threat to either of them but it surprised Kalthus enough to throw him off course. He twisted in mid-air, just happening to fly in the right direction to slam into Nic. That he wasn’t crushed was a miracle, instead merely being pushed back.

Right over the edge of the balcony.

It surprised Nic how calm he was as he fell. Not calm per-say, there was still plenty of panicking going on, but calmer than he would have expected. Maybe it was just exhaustion. Too little energy left to worry.

Still wasn’t a pleasant experience in the slightest. The wind howled past him like a banshee, cutting into his skin with its icy touch, so cold that any exposed skin was already going numb. His eyes stung from the pressure, forcing him to squeeze them shut, plunging the world into darkness. It was all he could do to hold on to the egg in his arms, tucking it into his chest as the wind tossed him about like a rag doll. He was powerless to do anything else, drained of tricks and luck. All he could do was hold on and hope for a thrice damned miracle.

It came in the form of a great presence from above. Nic felt more than saw it at first, enveloping him so completely that it blocked the wind. Opening his eyes, Nic just got a glance of a sliver streak before he was wrapped in the grip of mighty claws and lurched violently to one side. He might have been snapped entirely in two, but his savior took care to be gentle, merely jostling him badly in their grip. It briefly left Nic stunned, disoriented as he looked up to see what it was that had saved his life.

For as long as he’d known him, short as that time had been, Nic had never known Zulathon not to cut a heroic figure. Be it luck or talent, he always managed to look like he was posing for a statue. Even this low angle was no exception, the griffon Hierarch shining in the sun, his battle armor gleaming despite the many dents and scorch marks. He stared stoically ahead, powerful wings beating rhythmically as he effortlessly cut through the powerful winds.

They quickly reached solid ground, Zulathon landing gracefully in the courtyard surrounding the tree. Nic coughed at the thicker air trapped by the wards, overjoyed to taste oxygen once again as people started to surround them. Orlin was there, his stoic face only slightly cracked with worry as he lingered some distance away. Lord Worthington stood with him, along with Isabella, respective looks of interest and worry on their faces.

The rest were griffons, most of whom Nic didn’t know. Many wore the wounds of recent battle, scuffs and cuts, though none serious enough that they showed any care as they looked down on the small groundling. It was only Nathyl, Queen Nuthani, and Zulathon himself that Nic recognized, the three royals standing before him like titans, staring in silent judgement.

Before judge or judged could say anything, a sharp snap rang out through the courtyard. The egg in Nic’s hands began to shake, the long crack running down its center finally giving way. The two halves of the shell fell apart, exposing a tiny bundle of feathers and fluff, still wrapped up from its time in the egg. To the shocked gasps of onlookers, the creature slowly uncoiled itself, unfurling small wings as it clacked its beak. It had impossibly bright eyes, their golden hue almost seeming to glow as it took in its surroundings.

It turned about, giving Nic an excited squawk as it pressed the top of its head into the young techne’s cheek. It didn’t stay long, attention quickly overtaken by everything else, its gaze eventually settling on Zulathon. The Hierarch stared at them both, his regal expression boring a hole the size of worlds through the scene.

“Um,” Nic said, brain refusing to work and defaulting to the first thought that agreed to form. “Congratulations?”

Zulathon didn’t look at Nic, instead reaching out to stroke the little griffon’s face. The little one responded by leaping forwards, scampering up their father’s leg and onto his back, playfully climbing around like a cat until they came to rest on a shoulder. Zulathon stared, expression unreadable until tears suddenly flooded his eyes.

“Hello,” he said, his face breaking into a distinctly un-regal smile. “I am so glad to meet you.”     

The little griffon squawked again, bunting heads with their father and making the entire crowd erupt into cheers. Nic just continued to lay on the ground, basking in the glory of being alive.

*

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