With time, one could adjust to almost anything.
Whether that be flying through the skies on immaculate wings, tearing into rich bloody meat, or sleeping curled up, tail to beak. Even the bleary awakenings when her quivering brother wriggled beneath her wings in the dead of night were becoming almost routine.
The pain of sorcery, however, was intolerable.
Yet it was an unavoidable routine. Everyday, once Ollie was off showering or eating breakfast, she attempted to shapechange in the early morning gloom. Diana and Sera’s lessons were ingrained, she understood the process, and yet it was so difficult. The first step was a thought, a memory of her own humanity. Flipping. Baking. Singing. Strumming. Laughing. She wove together those memories like a nest, or a sail. Then she tried to fly upon that sail, catching the magical power of her amulet in it, to do the impossible. To push mass from existence, to render skin from fur, fingers from claws, and teeth from beak. And, most of all, to do it steadily, smoothly, so that the pain would be bearable.
It rarely was.
Mistakes were all too common. Everyone made mistakes, that was a rule. Sometimes it was minor- a talon out of place, feathers in her hair, or avian eyes. Sometimes it was worse, a torturous unmaking of her anatomy, wings too big for her frame, or an awful half-way. Today was one of those bad days. Karen found herself too long, her legs still feline, with bunched paws unsuitable for walking. She growled a pathetic human whimper, and slumped in her nest amidst blankets and dark feathers.
“Goddammit.” She cursed, then added a few more expletives for good measure as she thumbed her amulet. Every mistake had consequences, that was a rule, and her failure to shapechange properly always carried a clear and simple punishment. The half-girl closed her eyes, wincing in trepidation at the pain of a second transformation so early in the morning.
“Carpe diem.” She called to mind memories of her griffin side- leaping clean over the flightless reddish griffin, flying above mountain peaks, tearing into sweet hot offal- and tried to steel her mind. No hesitation, no loss of focus, or else the pain would be so much worse.
It hurt.
* * * * *
A hand brushed her trembling neck. Karen flinched, wings flaring, tail lashing, only to see Ollie kneeling beside her. The thirteen year old’s eyes looked heavy in the darkness, his mop of dark hair still wet from the shower. So she hadn’t blacked out for long.
The griffin shakily planted her claws and squawked in Avian, “OUT. CHANGE.”
Her brother shoved her neck down with a pout, his hands soothingly smoothing out the quills across her back.
“OUT. CHA-”
“Anverath.” Ollie’s quiet voice pronounced the magic word perfectly. He spoke little now, but he’d learned those quickly. Karen slumped in mock defeat, her urgent heart slowly calming. His command had cut off her amulet’s magic, and with it, any chance of attempting to shapechange again. That was a rule too- only one attempt each day.
“NAUGHTY BOY.” Karen purred fondly as he stroked her neck, and wrapped a wing around him. Ollie nodded, and continued to pet until she stopped quivering, the pain a memory until tomorrow morning.
Eventually she flicked her tail and jostled her wing, ready to face the day, “VEIL.”
“Magic word?”
Karen flicked her tail thoughtfully. She’d probably learned ‘please’ in Avian. Probably. Yet she’d been studying so much, of Avian, magic, schoolwork, flying, that it didn’t come to her. “THANKYOU?”
The boy flopped over her, unimpressed. “Nope.”
“OUT. VEIL. CHANGE.” She shoved under Ollie to toss him onto her back like a sack of potatoes. He wasn’t heavy or ready, and giggled as she tossed him out of her den, kicking the door shut. Handling Veil was difficult as a griffin, but the magical potion masked a lot of the immediate pain. It didn’t need her to focus, to work, to align. It automagically handled everything she struggled with. Karen hated it. Every dose was a mark of her failure at the craft.
But she had to be human. She lay back as the heat faded, groaned, and sat up, brushing the feathers off her. It wasn’t surprising that her nest held plenty of cast off black and grey quills at this point- though her coat was, of course, impeccable. They were shoved to the side with some old clothes while she showered and dressed against the November chill.
“You’re going to be late,” Mom warned her by the time she got to breakfast, shovelling eggs and bacon into her mouth. “Don’t choke either, Karen, you have teeth for a reason.
“Ah’m ‘ungry,” She grunted through a mouthful, juggling the plate as she kicked and stomped her sneakers on. “‘Atfer lunf? Ag got ‘ime”
“Your lunch is in the fridge, dear.” The tawny woman frowned a moment, then relented, retrieving the tupperware of curry for her. “You need to take Ollie along, so best leave early- he’s going to try today.”
Karen nearly choked, thumped her chest, and swallowed, “Try school? But he’s still broken!”
“Karen Emily Thomson!” Mom set a heavy gaze on her, the weight of her full name like manacles, “He’s your brother. He’s not broken. He might not be his old self. He might be in a tough spot, but he can still try, can’t he?”
“That’s different- he can’t even sleep in his own bed!”
“Neither can you, but you’re not broken, are you?” The woman bristled and slammed her school bag on the table, “No. So you’re going to be there for him. No ditching school, no running off, no drama. If anything happens, you phone us. Is that understood, young lady?”
“I won’t let anything happen to him,” she snarled, biting down more bacon, “Why to’ay?”
“Who knows. Maybe he’s gotten bored alone- or inspired by you.” Her mother leaned in to pet her short hair, “You’ve done well attending this week, and seeing Gramma on saturday.”
She smiled, headbutting the hand fondly, “And flying back.”
“Not what I meant, but, fair, well done.” Mom sighed, “Now, finish up and dress properly- it’s near thirty degrees out there.”
She scarfed the rest down, found a coat and an old set of woolly ear mufflers with a dark griffin feather stuck in them. That was cute, so she left it in, tightened her shoes, and darted out into the chill air, breath steaming. Oliver was waiting, idly flipping on the trampoline like a coin being flipped over and over.
“You coming or not? You better not have shoes on there.” Karen warned, and took off at a good pace. Ollie didn’t shout back, but he did hurry to pretend to pull his shoes on, and sprint after her, black hair streaming.
She settled to a matching pace once he caught up, watching quietly- he wasn’t the same as during nighttime. During the night, he might as well have been a toddler again, hugging close to his big sister in this strange new house and town. During the day, that terror was replaced with a careful quiet air, his green eyes tracing every gate, every car, every bird on a telephone wire for danger. He especially lingered on people, and Karen steered them around a large boxer dog before they reached the school.
That was tougher. The couple interlinked buildings of Ranelk High were bustling in the minutes before nine o clock. Chattering mobs and squealing brats pierced her brain even through her cosy earmuffs, and Ollie took a nervous step back.
“What’s the matter? Forget where your form-room is?” Karen scoffed, forcing a grin to her lips.
“No… it’s…” He swallowed, thin frame swamped by his jacket, shoulders tight. “Loud.”
“C’mon. Mrs McAllister, right? Let’s go.” She offered a hand, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, blushing as he stalked behind her through the herd of youths. Karen had to fight to not kick the younger kids legs out from under them- there were too many, too close, stinking of sweat and deodorant, gossip and mockery. The corridors were too narrow to spread her wings, and too many lacked windows to see the sky. Don’t show weakness. Her brother was relying on her, his breathing quick, his eyes wide, fists balled, so she had to be strong. At least she was one of the tallest students in the junior section of the school.
“Wait.” Ollie snatched her bag just outside Mrs McAllister’s class, yanking her back, “Dont.”
“What?” Karen dropped her voice, “Wanna go home?”
“No.” He glanced away, crossing his arms, “Just… I… it’d… be embarrassing… You.”
Her mouth fell open. “What. I’m not cool enough for your little gremlin buddies?”
Ollie shrugged, sidestepping past her.
“Wow. Some thanks I get!” Karen gasped, “Fine, get in there or else I’ll give you so many goodbye hugs! You’d never live it down!”
The youth blushed, stuck out his tongue, and ran the remaining twenty feet, practically crashing into the classroom. She watched with a grin, creeping a little closer to spy him surrounded by other boys, pulling a wooden chess set from his bag. He seemed as merry as ever, if a little quiet. Was he faking it? Or was this just so familiar that the terror was left at the door?
“Uh, ‘scuse me,” A girl hissed, and Karen span to spy her own pale reflection in the lens of orange sunglasses, beneath wild serpentine hair.
“Oh, hey Eda, this your class?” She stepped aside, only now registering the look of confusion- of course, she was veiled. Noone here would guess she was Ollie’s sister by looks alone, no wonder it would be weird.
“Wh- wai- you’re the griffin witch?” The young gorgon pieced it together quickly, a fanged smile crossing her ochre features. “Karen?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Bingo. Still figuring the magic out, so this is my other face.” She explained wearily, before adding, “Actually, can you do me a favour?”
“Oh, yeah. What?”
“See the black haired kid with the homemade chess set?” She nodded to the classroom, “That’s my little brother, Oliver, hasn’t been at school since… uh… he had a real bad time on Halloween. It’s his first day back, so can you keep an eye out for him? Just petrify anyone who messes with him, yeah?”
“I’m not really allowed to, but… hmm, I’ll help him!” The gorgon said brightly, then rifled through her satchel to offer a colourful paper, “Here- it’s for you, as thanks!”
Scrawled and painted across it was an eerie scene, of green flames lashing around a black winged thing, a serpentine girl hanging onto its shoulders. Karen frowned at it, the colours strange, before gasping, “Oh- this is me?”
“Yup!”
“But my coat isn’t black?”
“Well, yeah, but you can’t see the real colours- look at it with griffin eyes.” Eda pouted, her snakes hissing.
“Wai- it’s got ultraviolet colours? You can see them?”
“Well, yeah, I’m a gorgon. Can’t see red though.” She admitted, “And… I didn’t get that good a look at your patterns, didn’t see that feather, but- oh, if I help your brother, can I see you fly? And dra-”
The thunderous drone of the bell interrupted them, and Karen settled for a thumbs up and a nod as she took off sprinting. Her own form-room was in the other building, but she felt better about Ollie knowing there was a girl looking out for him, and not just the usual rabble of cronies. Eda was an idiot too, but she at least knew something of magic and the horrors of halloween.
After all of that, it scarcely felt like the start of the school day. She was already exhausted by the time Mrs Conelly lectured her for being late, Emily fussed over her earmuffs, and Logan teased her for using Veil again. It was good to be back, but with so much else going on, it was hard to focus on schoolwork. Her stomach fluttered with worries for Oliver, and her eyes often flicked towards Irene, pondering what secrets the blonde biped held.
* * * * *
By lunchtime, Karen was tired of people and ceilings, so she braved the chill air to eat outside. The sky was a bleak cloudy grey, but it was dry, and she draped herself across the old climbing frame as she munched through the curry. Yet it wasn’t long before she was hunted down by the quiet footsteps and cool voice of the other griffin.
“Wrong face again?”
“Magic isn’t easy, weak-wings,” She twisted to glare at Alastair, only to almost spit out her lunch, “Urgh, nevermind me- what happened to your face!?”
The veiled male grinned, his lip bloody and one eye almost swollen shut from a fresh green and yellow bruise. “Ha, this? Won a fight.”
“Oh really?” Karen cooed, “Who’d you kill?”
“Furies, you’re such a cub. Asshole called Sebastian in my class- and no, I didn’t lay a finger on him.” He ambled up the bars easily, jacket studded with his usual array of vibrant badges.
“So you lost to that shitstain!?”
Her fury was met by a raised hand and a quiet smile, “Chill. I don’t need you fighting my battles, Stormy.”
“Well clearly you do- you’re a mess, you might be in shock!” She snarled, halfway to hunting down the shaggy senior.
“He wanted me to seem violent.” Alastair grinned, teeth bloodstained like his crimson hair. “Wanted to prove I’m a dangerous uncontrollable monster. Instead he wailed on me until his own cronies said he was overdoing it. Humans love an underdog, so yeah, I won.”
“Underdog? You’re insane.” Karen wavered, before grudgingly relaxing. “Should’ve gutted him. That’s all you came to brag about?”
“And I jumped thirty feet last night.” He reached the bar beside her, practically gleaming with pride. “On the flat.”
“Aww congratulations, that’s better than the average biped,” She mocked, reaching over to ruffle his stupid vibrant hair. “I flew from Aldenpark on Saturday. Over a hundred miles.”
“Yeah, you mentioned.” He smirked, reached out to pat her head in turn, but she twisted away. “Heh, such a big cub, Stormy. You really should go hunting, you’re itching to kill.”
“Last time I poached, I nearly lost a wing to buckshot, no thankyou!”
“So, don’t poach, birdbrain, get a hunting licence.”
She snorted, temper flaring, “Oh yeah? The park rangers will give one to a girl with zero firearm training?”
Alastair’s head produced a metallic clunk sound as he wearily headbutted the frame. “Firearms? You’re an apex predator, they’ll give you a licence- as long as you don’t tell them you’re a dumbass.”
The tupperware and dregs of rice fell as she dropped a bar, twisted and kicked a foot to his chest, “Bold words from a guy who already lost one fight today.”
“Adorable, but I’m not prey, cub.” He grabbed her leg and pulled. Karen flailed as she lost her grip, slipping amidst the bars, then pushed to go with his momentum. Her other boot kicked one of his off the bars, so he released her leg and climbed, only for her to grab his jacket tight.
“Don’t call me cub, weak-wings!” She yanked hard, trying to throw him off the bars entirely. But he was too strong, hanging on as she kicked off, trying to use her entire weight to-
Alastair let go. The momentum of falling took over, the world revolving, and Karen flailed, kicking a leg out. She was able to hook her heels back onto the bar and swing, upside down out of the way of Alastair’s descent. And right into the bars that rattled her skull with a metallic clang.
Alastair hit the ground hard, right on his back, but leisurely glanced up as if cloudgazing. “Heh. Call it there, or what to prove my point more?”
“Your point being…?” She growled, rubbing her short hair, hanging upside down.
His grin was bloodstained, “You’re dying to hunt.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Karen winced, gripped a bar, and flipped down to land elegantly, “Fine, you’re sure a licence would let me hunt whatever?”
“Some prey, not anything.” He clarified, standing up, “There’s rules to make sure you don’t wipe out the entire elk population.”
She frowned as she picked up her schoolbag, “Hm, I’ll check it out. And leave a few for you, mister underdog.”
Alastair laughed, brushing down his jacket. He didn’t seem to bristle at any nicknames. Maybe he wasn’t smart enough to parse the insults. Or maybe, looking at his face, it was something deeper than that. Karen left him be, mind weighing the image of tearing apart a massive deer, or maybe Sebastian. Both were plenty tempting, enough to make her salivate.
The afternoon was a little smoother, occupied with spanish, then arguing with Logan and Maddie about a movie night. Maddie’s heart was set on some romantic comedy, while Logan argued with sci-fi, and Karen tried to find a solid compromise and debated form. It was hard to encourage Maddie to leave off Veil for an evening without spilling any secrets, and the conversation quickly turned into how comfy a griffin was for movie night instead.
Then there was a student at the door, one of Ollie’s friends, eyes puzzled. “Hey! Uh, is Karen in this class?”
“-but I wouldn’t be able to talk either- not that you two fools can understand.” She argued, and turned uncertainly, “That’s me- yeah?”
“Uh, you’re needed at the first aid room, your brother’s hur-”
She didn’t hear more. She bolted out the classroom at full speed, tearing down the corridor. What had happened!? Had he hurt someone? Or gotten hurt? The image of Alastair’s bruises swam in her mind as she reached the stairs, hurdled over the corners, and rode her momentum down. Had Sebastian gone after her brother? What about his friends, teachers, Eda, why hadn’t they done anything?!
It took less than two minutes to reach the first aid room, her stomach turning at the metallic scent of blood. Someone shouted not to run, but there were drops of crimson on the floor and she didn’t stop until she slammed into the first aid room.
Ollie was a bloody mess on the chair, knees drawn up to a cheek marred by a row of scratches. More crimson furrows, shallow but messy, marred the back of his arms. His nails held the rest, hands like butchers gloves racking at his hair as he cried and shuddered, an older lady struggling with him.
“GET OFF HIM!” Karen shoved the teacher off balance and lunged to wrap her arms around her brother, close and tight. “Ollie- it’s me, it’s Karen, you’re safe, you’re okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, I’m here.”
He pushed back, green eyes momentarily wide and feral. Then he recognized her veiled form, and collapsed sobbing against her, bloody arms hugging close, hands almost clawing at her sweater.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.” She found herself crying, panic drumming up in her chest, “What happened? Who did this!?”
“Gr- griffin- nearly- uh- ne-” He choked, voice small and hoarse, then gasped and clicked his mouth shut.
“Want the other me? I’ll protect you.” Karen took a breath, bracing herself, “Denrol.”
Her eyes burned, the thoughts of hunting and cutting were fresh, it would be easy to cha-
“Anverath.” Oliver snapped, cutting off the magic. “N-no, too tight, too close, n-no griffin, too cramped.”
She blinked, glancing about. The first aid room was a small windowless place, stacked with shelves, spare clothes, and aged posters about biped biology. No place to stretch her wings. The woman, a teacher she’d never had with mousy grey hair and a short stout frame, lingered close, bandages and plasters in hand.
“If he’s calm, can you stay close, and I’ll-”
“Who hurt him?!” Karen snarled, “What happened?!”
“He did.” The teacher blanched, “He had a fit during class, started scratching himself- and anyone who got close. One of his classmates… uh… got him to stay still, enough to bring him here, but he riled up again.”
“Stay sti- she paralysed HIM!?” She raged. That was the opposite of what she’d asked of Eda! Her brother quivered, and she leaned close, stroking his hair, “Ollie, you’re okay, we’re going home- call my parents- we’ll go back, okay.”
“N- no. I’m not broken!” He abruptly shoved off her, bloody hands marking her sweater as he recoiled, “Wha- what if, what if… lock me away?! No, no,I’m fine! Back to class!”
“Noone’s locking you away. But you’re hurt, you’re bleeding. You can’t waste your blood like that.” Karen held tight, dabbing her sweater to his cheek, “Please, Ollie, we need to handle this or you might go to hospital. I’ll stay close- do you want me to do it?”
“Hospital- no, no!” His bloodshot eyes, overflowing with tears, blinked at her, and then wound close again, “N-no, you don’t know fi… first aid, no, you’d kill me like… like… Logan.”
“Rude. Wow.” She suppressed a giggle, and set her earmuffs over his ears as she clutched him tight, “There, a lil quieter. Just hold still for the biped, alright?”
He whined and wriggled at the teacher set to work, carefully describing each movement before she took it. Wiping out the wounds, wrapping a bandage gauze around his forearm, and plasters on the cheeks. The scratches weren’t deep enough to merit stitches, but it was still tough to keep him calm, he was quick to struggle. Then, at last, she left them with water and went to ensure the phone call was made properly.
“That’s better,” Karen murmured once the door closed, “Ollie- what happened? Was she right? Did someone pick on you?”
The boy drew his knees up to his face, shaggy black hair hanging low.
“Was it Eda? Did they hurt you?”
“N- no, she was just… it was too much…” He winced, shaking, “So many questions, like she knew. Asking about.. bout Veil, an… and magic, and halloween, and you, and… and if she could draw me, like she… she… knew…”
“Aw. Sorry.” Karen’s shoulders sagged, “She’s a lot. She’s obsessed with me. Since we’re siblings she must’ve assumed that…. We’re the same.”
A cold stone dropped in her stomach. Her brother shook his head, “We’re not- we’re not, I’m not, I’m not broken, I didn’t… I…”
She reached in to hug him, eyes locked on the feather still stuck in her earmuffs. It was too dark. Her feathers were, to human eyes at least, a soot grey. But not black.
“Of course… you’re my brother.” Karen mumbled, the pieces falling into place. A griffin had savaged Caleb, a smaller one than her. And she was the smallest in town, unless… “I get it. On Halloween, it was you, right?”
Ollie stared at her, his green eyes widening, between dark brows and heavy shadows, as despair crashed across his face.
“I… I’m a monster.” Her brother whispered, tears breaking free, “Caleb was… he was… trying to protect… trying to hold me an… and I…”
“Shush, shush, it’s okay. Don’t worry.” Karen cradled him close, stroking his head as her breath caught in her lungs. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll figure something out. Just trust me.”
She had no idea what to do.