Griff opened and closed his right hand repeatedly, flexing the muscles while he tested to make certain there were no broken bones. His attention had quickly moved from the unconscious dragon to the pair of people in front of him, along with the odd metallic object. “What settlement are you from?”
“That’s a dragon!” Claire exclaimed, voice a bit too loud, as she pointed at the defeated monster. “You just punched a dragon to death! With your bare hand!”
“What? No, don’t be silly,” Griff told her before he chuckled. “I only made her take a nap.”
It was a statement that caused Claire to turn her gaze to the dragon, eyes widening to the point that it almost hurt. She took one step back in fear, before a loud moan from nearby reminded her of the injured Vince. “Vince!” she exclaimed in a worried tone, kneeling down next to him. “Hold on, I’ll think of something!”
Griff watched her actions with a tilted head, one eyebrow raised. “Think of something? Just heal him.”
“What? I don’t have a first aid kit,” Claire said, while she paid little attention to Griff and instead studied the broken arm of Vince. “Don’t move, Vince! God, why didn’t I keep a kit in the car?”
The crunch of glass caused Claire to whip around, afraid that the dragon had stood back up. Griff had walked up closer to her, looming over her while he looked down at the injured man. “Do you not know the symbology?”
“What are you talking about? We need to get him to a doctor!” Claire told him.
Griff lifted up his left hand and pointed his index finger directly at Claire, a movement that made her lean away in surprise. “You really don’t know this do you?” he wondered aloud, while his hand began to trace a symbol in the air. Where it passed a trail almost seemed to glimmer, crafting a series of swirls that made an image which Claire couldn’t recognize.
With a quick flourish of his hand Griff almost looked to grab the symbol before he directed it in the direction of Vince. A moment later the image vanished, after which a glowing white aura surrounded the injured Vince. Claire could only watch on with a confused expression as the bone that pushed out of the arm slipped back in, the blood flow came to a stop and the injuries began to vanish.
“Magic, you used magic,” Claire muttered, her mind racing at the thought of magic being a reality. With a glimmer of hope in her eyes she turned first to look toward the destroyed car, then back to the face of Griff. “My friend! My friend died in the car! Can you save her?”
It was a look that Griff had seen so many times over the last twelve years, a look that needed him to say yes when he couldn’t. He let out a long sigh while turning his face away, no longer wishing to see the crestfallen expression that always followed. “Not even Aphalia can bring the souls back, once it is past the curtain it is beyond our touch.”
For a few seconds Claire stared up at Griff, tears in her eyes at the thought of forever having lost her friend, before Vince cleared his throat. “Claire, I know this is a bad time but maybe we need to get away from the dragon?” Vince asked, while he jerked a thumb in the direction of the monster.
Claire looked to Vince with a stricken face, before she grimaced and shook her head. “You’re right,” she finally admitted before she stood up. She walked over to the car and peered into it, careful not to look in the crushed backseat, her hands scrounging for anything useful. She paused outside of the car and stared at it with tears in her eyes, one hand lifted up to rest against a wheel that hadn’t fallen off.
“Come on Claire!” Vince called out to her, already starting to walk in the direction of the police station.
“Give me a moment!” Claire responded, anger flaring up inside for a brief moment. She patted the car gently with one hand, though it was not the car she was thinking about. “Goodbye Andrea.”
In the distance the sound of gunfire and screams could be heard, intermingled with roars of creatures that were at least as loud as the dragon nearby them. Claire listened to it all and tried her best to stay focused, her gaze turning once more to Griff. “I’m Claire and he’s Vince,” she told him as she ejected the empty magazine from her pistol and replaced it. “We’re heading to the police station nearby. It’d be great if you could come with us.”
To Griff this pair were a mystery, most people in Shinterra bowed to him at the mention of his name. They did not know symbology, even the presence of a dragon seemed to have confused them. “Answer me this, do you recognize the name Shinterra?”
Claire shook her head in response to that question, before she looked toward Vince to see if he knew the term. “Never heard of it,” Vince replied, while he rubbed at the healed arm.
“Curious. I suppose I shall join you,” Griff told them, while he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest. “We can talk more on the way to this station of yours.”
“Alright,” Claire said while she turned away from him and picking her path around the broken car. While she walked she kept her eyes constantly on the move, seeking out any potential threats. The bright moonlight filtered down and lit her way readily, far brighter than she could ever have expected.
Vince walked behind her by a few steps, far less focused on staying alert than she. Instead he was interested in looking at Griff, while he continued to rub at the arm which had been broken a short while ago. “Where’s your shirt?” he asked after a few minutes of walking.
“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” Claire told Griff, a tinge of annoyance audible in her voice, while she stepped past some rubble.
Griff chuckled at the question, a quick shrug stating how little he was bothered. “My armor was broken already, chasing after that dragoness made it worse. I ditched it so it wouldn’t hinder my movements.”
Claire paused in her forward march, turning around to look directly at Griff. “You chased after the dragon?”
“Yes, a dragoness is extremely reclusive,” Griff told her before he gestured ahead of them as though encouraging her to keep on walking. “They only attack when someone intrudes into their nesting area. Given how many people I saw in your metal towers I expected a human to be under attack.”
The nod and that tidbit of information was all Claire needed to turn about and continue walking, the hope that they were outside of the territory foremost in her thoughts. “Metal towers? Do you mean the skyscrapers?”
From the direction that Claire was heading the noise of gunfire was loudest, but so were the screams begging for help. The other areas had grown quiet and still, the forest inhabitants fully settled into their new homes after clearing out the humans. Claire grimaced when she remembered that almost half a million had lived in this city, and yet now it seemed quite likely that most were dead.
“Skyscrapers?” Griff inquired, head tilted to the side as he thought on the word. “Accurate, I suppose. They do seem to touch the heavens.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a moan from the right side, a soft cry that sounded like that of a child, and Claire immediately turned in the direction of the noise. What she saw was a bit of an oddity, as a young girl of perhaps eight or nine was laying on the ground nearby a gathering of bushes. The bushes themselves had purple roses with yellow stems, and a sweet smell filled the air the closer Claire walked toward it. The girl wore long hair that draped down over her face and her body was covered by vines.
A tight grip clamped down on Claire’s right shoulder and yanked her away from the bush. “Stop!” Griff told her while his eyes focused on the odd plant. “That is no ordinary plant, it’s a honey rose bush.”
“If it’s dangerous that’s all the more reason I need to get that child!” Claire asserted in a strong tone, while she tried to tear free from the iron vice that held her shoulder. “Let me go!”
“You idiot, look carefully!” Griff almost yelled at her while he pointed his finger at a spot near the bush.
Nearby the bush a few corpses could be seen, each one wrapped up in vines that had impaled the bodies. The vines pulsated as though they were actively sucking liquid from the dead, yet the child that continued to randomly move near the bush seemed immune to this. The closer Claire looked at the little girl the more she realized that features were missing, including the eyes and nose.
“Monster bushes?” Vince asked of Griff while he stared with a shocked expression at the honey rose.
Griff’s right index finger extended and he once more traced a symbol in the air before him, a ripple forming in the wake of where he pointed. “The honey rose bush uses decoys as bait to draw in others, and to make it worse it moves,” Griff told the other two while he finished his tracing. A flourish of his hand and a small blast of flames erupted through the air, covering the bush in fire that consumed everything. “The sweet smell they use plays with your mind, so if you ever smell it again run.”
“You really do use magic, how do you do that?” Claire inquired of Griff while she hedged in a bit too close for his preference. All her youth she had only imagined at the potential for magic, wished that it could be real. “I’ve never seen real magic before.”
Griff took a step back while he lifted up his left hand, a plea for Claire to keep her distance, before he motioned with his right hand at the pistol she held. “A deal. You tell me about your toy and why it’s important, and I’ll tell you about the magic.”
Claire turned away from Griff, once more walking in the direction of the station, while she lifted up the pistol for him to see it easily over her shoulder. “It’s a gun, you don’t know about them?” Claire wondered, before she shook her head. “It shoots bullets, pieces of metal. It’s a weapon.”
“Amusing. I look forward to seeing you use it,” Griff responded. “To use magic all one needs to do is focus mentally on what you need, etch onto Aphalia’s breath with your finger, and then release the spell.”
“Could I use magic?” Vince spoke up from the side, eyes focused on Griff.
“Quiet!” Claire hissed quietly from in front while she motioned with one hand for everyone to get down. “We’re here.”
Vince and Griff both knelt down, though Griff moved to the front so he could look at the situation. As he scrambled forward he noticed that ahead of him the ground dipped steeply downward, almost into a valley, with a large structure peeking up out from the center of it. When he crouched next to Claire he peered down at what had caused her to get so quiet.
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“Well this is going to be a problem,” he commented, severely understating how bad everything was.
Ahead of them in the depression in the land rested the police station, a four-story building made entirely of thick stone. The front entrance rested at the top of stairs, which had in turn been blocked off by sandbags and random debris. Standing behind all of the clutter were numerous officers armed with pistols, shotguns and rifles that were firing into a dark mass at the bottom of the steps. The thriving mass of shadows were a large group of rat men armed with bone-blades and shields, gnashing their teeth while trying to get up the steps.
“I vote we run away,” Vince chimed up from Claire’s left side, a comment that neither of the others paid any attention to.
“Can your magic wipe them out and get us into the station?” Claire asked of Griff, though her gaze remained locked on the rat men before her.
“No, there are limits and I’m approaching mine,” Griff told her, while he lifted up one hand to his chin and rubbed at it. “That’s weird though, the Rattan should be scaling the walls and going in through the windows.”
Claire pointed toward a few dead rat men sprawled on the ground nearby the windows. “They probably have people on guard at each one. We need to get inside, any ideas?”
For a while Griff studied the mass of rat men, the police who fought against them and the station itself. “Give me your hand,” Griff told Claire while he offered his left hand to her. “I can get you and your friend to your station, but you’ll need to trust me.”
Claire hesitated as she stared at the offered hand, a momentary thought of how this man might not be the hero she hoped him to be, before she transferred her pistol to the left hand and placed her right in Griff’s own hand. “Alright, but don’t do anything sketchy.”
Sketchy? Griff mulled over that word in his head but he couldn’t quite understand what it meant, so ignoring it he gently wrapped his hand around Claire’s. “Focus on the image of wings and the air going by you, wrap yourself in that image,” Griff told her while he extended her index finger. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” Claire boldly claimed while she closed her eyes. She left the etching of the image up to Griff, and instead focused entirely on maintaining the mental picture he requested of her.
Griff guided the finger through the air, tracing out a picture that resembled a single wing one might find on an angel. “If you can’t complete the image in your mind then you can’t use Aphalia’s breath,” Griff told her while he finished tracing the image using her finger. “Do not lose your image! Now open your eyes, grab the symbol and throw it at yourself.”
When Claire opened her eye a glimmering and silver wing had been etched into the air, a piece of artwork that made her pause momentarily in awe. Her mouth hung open slightly while her eyes widened, then she reached out and grabbed hold of what she thought could only be air. It had a solidity to it that was ethereal, a heavenly shining image which threatened to snap apart if touched too roughly, and as Claire lightly wrapped her hand around it she couldn’t help but smile.
With a flick of her wrist Claire cast the symbol back at herself, the glowing image warm as it touched against her body. The smile on her face widened as the sensation of warmth wrapped around the whole of her body. When Vince gasped from her side Claire looked to him inquisitively only to see his hand pointing down at the ground beneath her. Claire inclined her head to peer down at her feet and quickly realized that they were no longer in contact with the ground.
“Good job, now grab your friend,” Griff ordered her, as he stood up straight and started to walk toward the direction of the station. “Focus all your attention on that spot where your friends at the station are, craft the image of your feet touching down there.”
Claire couldn’t help but stare at the ground beneath her, so awed by the fact that magic had worked for her. The words of Griff were barely heard and instead it was when Vince grabbed onto her one arm that Claire returned to her senses. “What?” she muttered, then with a shake of her head the muddled feeling was cleared away. With one hand holding her pistol and the other gripping onto Vince Claire closed her eyes and focused.
The noise of air rushing past her ears, the change in volume as she could clearly hear the loud gunshots being fired right near her. A loud gasp came from Vince, barely audible over the noise of the weapons, was the final reason as to why Claire opened her eyes. What she saw left her bewildered, she had gone from the crest of the hill overlooking the police station to the actual building itself. “Don’t shoot!” Claire cried out loudly as she lifted up her empty hand, hiding the pistol against her body in the hope that none of the cops shot on instinct at seeing it.
A familiar voice was the first to cry out, a portly man who wielded a shotgun and wore thick glasses. “Sergeant? Claire is that you?” James asked of her, before his attention was drawn once more to the hissing and chittering rat men. The shotgun fired off another shot which had enough power to obliterate most of the nearest rat man’s face. “I don’t know how you made it, Sergeant, but thank god!”
“Vince, get inside!” Claire ordered the man who still clung to her arm, shoving him toward the door. “Jimmy, Rod, where’s the captain?”
Rodriguez stood off to her right, nestled in amongst a pile of cardboard boxes and chairs. When Claire had appeared in their midst without warning he had nearly shot her in the head, a quick recognition having stopped him. Though he was crouched down low amongst the pitiful barrier that had been erected he was normally a tall man, one who easily dwarfed the others on the force. With darkened skin, black curly hair and a calm demeanor he was a hard individual to miss, especially when wielding a sniper rifle.
“Links went to grab some tear gas,” Rodriguez told Claire, while he fired off another round into the face of a rat man. “How’d you do that trick?”
Before Claire could respond to that James cried out in a loud voice, before he pointed with one hand in the direction of the rat men. Off on the other side of the large gathering they could barely make out a single individual, one who had acquired a bone sword and cleaved his way through some of the Rattan. “Is that Conan the barbarian?”
“That’s Griff! Don’t shoot him, he’s on our side!” Claire yelled out loud enough for everyone to hear.
While Claire met back up with her old friends Griff had met up with some old enemies. With footfalls so light that nobody could hope to hear them, he had snuck up behind one of the Rattan and easily snapped it’s neck. Taking hold of the dropped sword his next move was to chop down another of the rat men, taking his weapon as well. As a third one of the monsters died beneath his assault the other Rattan began to notice his presence, a recognition that caused many to recoil in terror.
“Griffon! The Griffon is here!” most of the Rattan cried out in their squeaky voices, while a few didn’t even waste time with screaming but simply turned and ran away.
Griff face was set in a grim look while his right hand snapped out, blade cleaving one of the rat men in half from top to bottom. A flick of the left hand tossed the sword it held directly into the face of one of the other Rattan, which Griff charged at and grabbed hold of the protruding hilt of the sword. With a vicious tear he ripped the thrown sword free from the skull of the Rattan, his foot lifting up and smashing into the chest to knock it back.
“Now if you won’t pardon me,” Griff said to the gathered rat men a second before he flipped up into the air.
When his feet came down they landed on top of the head of one of the Rattan, and from there he leapt across the gathered numbers as though each was a mere stepping stone in a flowing river. It took him ten such leaps to finally reach the police station stairs, whereupon he twisted around and brandished his swords at the monsters.
“Go tell Ganash if he wants this nest he’ll need to kill me for it!” Griff yelled at all of the Rattan, his swords still lifted into an aggressive position. “Or would you rather know why they call me Griffon?”
Those few Rattan who stood close to Griff had already recoiled away in terror, a few even whispered words such as retreat before Griff even spoke a word. When he declared his intent to protect the nest filled with humans those handful that refused to step away began to cower, the number of Rattan who had turned to run increasing by the second. Only the bravest remained after a few more seconds had passed, yet their bravery dissipated along with the numbers of their kind and they too soon turned away.
“We’ll be back!” cried out one hunched over and grey-coated Rattan.
As the gathered group continued to filter away Griff did not once let his guard down, swords held out evenly without a hint of weariness in the muscles. Even after the last of the monsters had turned tail and taken off after his brethren Griff continued to stand guard, the police behind the barricade watching this all with a hint of awe in their eyes.
“Griff?” Claire called from the top of the stairs, while she peered down at the odd man. “Are you alright?”
Griff began to move once more, swords flicked to discard any loose blood from the Rattan he had slain, before he turned around to look up the stairs at Claire. The look on his face was more than enough to make Claire feel a shiver of fear, a dark frown which told her immediately that something was wrong.
“We need to get your settlement out of here, if Ganash comes he’ll bring more than a scouting party,” Griff stated in a loud tone as he climbed up the stairs, blades twisted around in his hand so that the sharp edges faced backward. “I doubt we can stand up against a few hundred of the Rattan.”
Before Claire could speak up a cry came not from outside but instead from the interior of the police station. A desperate cry that was quickly followed by the sound of gunfire. Claire desperately ran for the door, though she was quite afraid of what she might see when she got inside.