WINDOWS
By Inspiration
Disclaimer: The Gargoyles animated TV show is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Buena Vista Animation, and originally the creation of Greg Weisman. The character of Asrial is from TGS and is the creation of the TGS staff. All original characters are the property of Inspiration! The original episode of 'Temptation' is the property and originally credited to the writers and artists of the episode.
Author's note: This is the story of 'Temptation' from Goliath's point of view. While having no will of his own while under Demona's mind control spell, he was aware of what was happening.
It was another quiet night as it should be and has been for the past week. Since the hostile encounter with a group of television warriors known as the Pack, the clan has tried to be more careful about knowing what was true and untrue from that mysterious magical box of this new world a millennium ahead their time.
However, for Goliath, he always preferred books; for they have always been the real depositories of what were true knowledge and what the works of fiction were. It almost seemed like a miracle to the clan leader that they had survived to this century where technology was nearly as revered as the Sun that humans seemed to worship, considering how much of it was used to brighten this large human inhabited island called Manhattan.
His younger brothers, the Trio, had gone out together again to work on a mysterious new project that the webbed winged one, now called Lexington, had taken great interest in. He had been building what was called a motorcycle, a peculiar two wheeled free running device that humans rode like metal horses, but they roared louder than a gargoyle. Indeed Goliath had occasionally seen one when he ventured outside the castle's surrounding area, but simply viewed it as another peculiarity in this new human world.
For a moment, thinking of Lexington's interest in devices made him think of his orange skinned clever rookery sister, which led to thoughts of the clan and how he greatly missed them all. This led to thoughts of his Angel of the Night, who had called herself Demona, her surprising admission of betraying the clan and then seemingly falling to her doom the same night.
Not long after the defeat of the baron, David Xanatos, the new self appointed lord of the castle who had also betrayed them, the survivors of his clan had held a Remembrance Wind Ceremony to say good bye to their slaughtered kin. However he had held off a ceremony for his Angel, patrolling the surrounding towers in hopes of finding her, presumably dead but he mostly hoped alive.
A great loneliness suddenly weighted heavily on his heart as he stopped his reading and looked around the empty library, which suddenly felt larger and less welcoming than it did a moment ago. Goliath gathered up his chosen books and made his way to the one other who may understand how he was feeling. Not so surprisingly, he found his brownish tan mentor, now called Hudson, after the river that flowed through the city, in the room with the magical talking box with their blue guardbeast, now called Bronx, laying beside Hudson's chair.
"Greetings, lad," Hudson said politely, "Find anythin' interesting the libr'ry?"
"A few things, old friend, however, I'm here to speak about a personal matter."
(This conversation can be read more about later in 'The Triangle' mini-series, coming soon.)
It was not long before two members of the Trio, Lexington and the hefty aqua colored one now called Broadway, walked into the room, Lexington taking a quick interest in what Goliath was reading.
"Where's Brooklyn?" their dark haired leader inquired about the beaked brick red colored member of their group.
"He's out joyriding," Broadway said as he did a strange motion with his fists.
"'Joyriding'," Goliath repeated slowly with puzzlement in his voice. It was obviously another peculiar human saying that he would have to look up.
"It means he must really like riding the bike very fast, kinda like how we feel when we glide," Lexington explained.
"With the way it looked with him riding it so fast he probably won't be back until morning," Broadway complained, "I was hoping for a turn at it."
"Hopefully we will tomorrow night."
Goliath momentarily eyed his two younger clan mates with amusement before returning to his book, something called *Beyond Good and Evil* by a German human with a difficult to pronounce name, and Hudson told them to shush as he tried to watch a comedic television show.
The rest of the night was spent in the simple enjoyment of company before the clan made their way to the tower for the day's rest, Brooklyn having returned just as dawn was upon them.
"How was your 'joyride'?" Goliath asked as he pronounced the strange sounding word last.
"Uh…illuminating," Brooklyn seemed to say hesitantly.
Goliath looked at his younger brother with puzzlement when a familiar female voice called his name.
"I'm glad I caught you before dawn," she said as she quickly made her way up the stairs of the tower.
"Yes, Elisa," he said. He always appreciated how she came to greet them each night after they awoke and before dawn to spend a bit of time with them as friends. It was one of the qualities that greatly intrigued the large gargoyle about this human, for it was a gesture that was seldom done even by the few human friends they could count in the 10th century. Although he was happy to see Elisa Maza as he always was, he sensed that she was agitated by something by her hurried and tense way she came to him and urgency in her dark eyes.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"You bet there is," she said in a serious tone, "Xanatos's sentence is almost up. He'll be out of jail in less than a month."
Goliath had a feeling he knew what Elisa was trying to say, and he did not like it one bit. Why couldn't she understand? He thought he had made it clear the last time she had mentioned the subject.
"So you've said so before," he stated with annoyance, "Why does this concern you?"
"It concerns *you*. You'll all have to find another place to live. But don't worry; I think I've found the perfect place for you."
Again she insisted on abandoning their home for what was clearly a foolish reason. He appreciates her continuing concern for his clan's welfare, but he refuses to run and hide like a coward. Besides, to leave their home would be like they had stopped breathing.
"There's no need for that," he said with stubborn yet civil refusal, "Xanatos has been beaten. The castle is ours now."
It should be clear enough where he stood and how he felt, it was the Gargoyle Way.
"How do we know that?" Brooklyn suddenly asked with hard doubt in his voice, "What if he tries to reclaim it?"
Goliath never thought that one of his own would doubt his leadership skills, but clearly the young warrior needed reminding.
"We will deal with that if and when it happens, but we are not leaving our home."
"But, Goliath…"
Silence and sleep was all that followed to Goliath's convenient good fortune, for he will hear no more of the issue. There was still time to consider how to deal with their enemy when he returned.
Night had finally fallen upon the castle again, the clan roared to the new night in wild greeting. Brooklyn looked to Goliath with a pleading expression, but all the young warrior received was a hard look from his leader. He may be expressing his doubts now, perhaps because of what Elisa was trying to do, but in the end he will see that as leader, Goliath was right.
Without a word to the brick red gargoyle, Goliath leaped from the tower and followed Hudson to the inside of the castle before heading out for a quick patrol.
Part of him still had hope of finding his lost Angel again. If and when he did find her, Goliath thought of how he wanted to try and understand better her reasons for her betrayal, perhaps he could even forgive her and ask for her forgiveness for letting her fall and rescuing his new friend instead.
Of course, he had to save Elisa; she had no wings to glide with.
He spent a short while in the library to gather his thoughts, even taking a little time to finish reading some of the books he read from last night. Some of the books from this age were quite thought provoking, and interesting philosophies to consider very similar to what he had read before in his own time.
For now they were best left for another time as he made his way around the buildings nearest the castle and some of the surrounding ones. Once more his search for his lost love was cut short when he found no trace of her.
He returned to his resting turret on the highest tower, wanting to be alone to consider what to do next. There were some times when his mate would disappear for nights sometimes in their youth and she never told anybody about what she was doing or where she went. He respected her privacy and when she wanted to confide in him he was always there to listen and be her shoulder to lean on.
Perhaps that was what she was doing now, gathering her thoughts and courage to face him when she was ready. Or perhaps, he was fooling himself and just not yet ready to except that she may indeed be gone.
He was actually beginning to consider holding a Remembrance Wind Ceremony for her, as well as what Elisa was trying to say about leaving the castle when Brooklyn came gliding excitedly up to his tower.
"Goliath, I've found a fascinating place," he said.
"How so?"
"It's like the world we came from. It's called the Cloisters, would you like to see it?"
Goliath gave his younger brother a small smile, all too gladly indulging in Brooklyn's enthusiastic curiosity. Perhaps it would even help get his mind off of such depressing matters, as well as see something more familiar to what they once knew in this modern world.
They glided for a short while over the city, admiring its glowing beauty in the velvety night and soon coming to a place that seemed out of place among the rising towers.
They came to a palace nestled among a small forest of trees that seemed isolated and yet somehow also part of the shining metropolis. They landed in the open courtyard and Goliath looked around at the elegant and majestic architecture. It indeed reminded him very much of some the masonry at Castle Wyvern. He had read much about history between the 10th century and this new time, and not much had changed for centuries after 994, especially with art.
Art was one of those peculiar human practices that Goliath could always appreciate and admire.
"It's beautiful," he said with impressed admiration, "I wish we'd brought the others."
"It's good that you didn't," said a familiar cold female voice, "Because we wanted you here alone."
The clan leader turned suddenly to witness someone step from out of the dark shadows, a familiar person he had begun to think he would never see again.
A storm of emotions conflicted within him at the sight of her. He became overwhelmed with numbing shock at various things; the sight of seeing his lost love alive and well now standing before him, yet she was different somehow in her posture and with the cold harden soulless expression in her eyes, the way she held tightly to a familiar magic book, and what may have been most surprising of all was how Brooklyn was casually standing next to her.
Had the shock of this scene not been so overwhelming to him, Goliath would have embraced his lost love in a heartbeat without a moment's hesitation. Unfortunately, the thought that he was being betrayed again by someone he thought he knew was only enough for him to feel disappointed and deeply hurt with anger.
"Demona," he said with quiet yet subtle hardness, "So you did survive."
"I *always* survive," the blue gargess shot back with smug arrogant pride in her voice.
Goliath almost asked how it was possible when his sharp eyes took better notice of the magic book in Demona's arms.
"The Grimorum?! Brooklyn what's happening here?" the brawny gargoyle demanded.
"Please, just listen, Goliath," the red gargoyle pleaded, "She has something very important to say to you."
Perhaps he would have given Brooklyn the benefit of the doubt had Demona not just then said with mad glee in her eyes, "He's right, Goliath. Listen and obey."
She began to cast the spell from the book; an eerie green eldritch light engulfed her hand.
Goliath began to dash towards Demona, perhaps a little too late as he realized what the spell was meant to do.
Demona suddenly thrust the mystic light at him like a small green meteor, engulfing the big lavender warrior in a mystical green mist and making him roar in a disorienting agony. It was as though a clouded darkness had descended with vengeance upon Goliath's mind, as though to force the will and thoughts of another over his own. He tried to fight it, resist the growing overpowering strength of the mystic fog that invaded his mind. But his resistance was met with excruciating pain within his mind, like a heavy steel grip of a mental vice.
The strength of the spell proved too strong as it evaded his resistance and it finally consumed his mind; a nightmarish fog of darkness of pure emptiness replaced his very substance, banishing his thoughts and will as he finally became enthralled by the spell.
A substance less and emotionless voice began to speak to him at the forefront of his thoughts with a single undeniable command of a single word; obey.
Yes, he will now obey whoever commands him with the spell.
He finally opened his eyes; the world a colorless and substance less place save for the eerie green mist of his mind.
However, from somewhere deep within him, what may be the True Voice of his inner most psyche of his true self, it was aware of what had happened to him. But here the True Voice could only perceive the world through the senses, for it had grown small and insignificant. There was now only the instinctual need to obey the command of the spell holder.
The True Voice a mere shadow of distance unheard noise as it shouted that this was wrong.
"I thought the spell was supposed to open his eyes," a familiar voice said through the fog, making it sound like a distant passing wind on a forest canopy.
"It will, watch," said the voice of the spell holder as clear as a bell, "Humans are our enemies."
"Humans are our enemies," his own voice repeated, distant, toneless, and cold. Within the darkness of substance less fog, the True Voice shouted out in shocked defiance that this is wrong and it is a lie.
It may have been his voice, but these were the thoughts of another forced upon him.
Obey.
What the spell holder commanded was all that mattered.
His True Voice continued to fight and protest to no avail, a simple speck of dust in the passing wind compared to the power of the spell holder.
Small.
Inferior.
Naïve.
The voice of the other said something in shock about freeing his mind and not enslaving it.
"You wanted him to know the truth," informed the spell holder, "Now what we tell him will be the only truth he knows."
Yes, what the spell holder commands was the only truth there is.
There are other truths, a bigger truth, the True Voice shouted from an unperceivable distance.
The other attempted to assault the spell holder as she tried to get him to trust her. An awareness of the other's anger was perceived by the True Voice.
"Goliath, restrain him," commanded the spell holder.
The True Voice refused but could only 'watch' as the body carried out the command, a pure separation of true mind and body.
Although, the body was still strong, it had become ungraceful and clumsy, a hulking mass of form only with no spirit to guide it.
There was a brief struggle with the other who tried to futilely beg for mercy. He then managed to disappear to the inside of the palace, the body galumphing behind the other at the command of the spell holder.
The voice of the spell holder spoke with clearness as she attempted to appeal to the other with assuring calmness.
Within the darkness the True Voice continued to protest. She perceived wrongly what she called his naïveté, and this was not the way to come to a suitable resolve. Somewhere within the dark fog of emptiness, the True Voice also thought of how the spell holder was not as someone he had remembered from a lifetime ago.
A hand appeared within his green fogged perception. He seized the other before he could do him harm. The other said something to him, but it was a distant echo of unformed sound from a deep chasm.
The True Voice shouted out for help as it tried again to fight back.
Obey.
The other got tossed in a hard throw without mercy or remorse. The body snarling as a mindless monster.
The spell holder began to do magic again, but suddenly the spell was gone.
Emptiness.
Pure nothingness.
Who was there now to obey?
There must be someone to obey or there will only be nothingness.
From the nothingness were garbled sounds of a struggle and the snarl of an angry voice.
Then the sudden feel of the spell holder.
An angry voice said something to him, but it was insignificant as he awaited the command of the spell holder.
Through the green hazed eyes, the True Voice saw the female become agitated with spiteful anger.
"Goliath, take her!" commanded the spell holder.
Obey.
The True Voice again protested, and yet there was proudness and a relief for this new spell holder.
The body stumbled to the other, but she evaded him. The instincts of a warrior came through the empty mindless darkness through the strength of the True Voice.
Obey.
Nothing must stand in the way of the command of the spell holder.
The True Voice became more acutely aware with instinct as the other took maneuvers to evade him, even dropping a banner on top of the body and leaping high to the atrium above.
That leap was easy for the body as well.
Seizing of the other.
A sudden crash.
The True Voice somehow noted that they had gone through a stain glass window.
A sudden feel of wind upon his wings in the glory of gliding and the thrill of the chase.
Obey.
Nothing must stand in the way of fulfilling the command of the spell holder.
Instinct surged through the body.
Soaring up higher, the adrenaline surge of a dive upon the target.
The other fought futilely.
They dived and there was another crash across the ground.
Any pain that there may have been was briefly perceived by the True Voice, but it seemed far away and as separate as the substance of their two bodies.
The warrior was tossed off of the other, but got to his feet quickly again, ready to again carry out the command of the spell holder.
The other tossed a great boulder at the body, warrior instincts telling him dodge just in time.
The other said something about him being a force to be reckoned with.
The spell holder howled in the distance as the body tried again to grab the other who again evaded him.
The spell holder then dived over the cliff and saved the magic book that the other had tossed away. She too then howled in defiance in the distance.
"Come on, let's go home," the spell holder said with deep sadness.
Again, the body obeyed the command.
Somewhere, within the mental darkness, the True Voice thought of how it sensed the differences in each of the spell holders. The first one, his lost love, from her he sensed a deep cold hatred surrounded in a burning desire for power and revenge. Then, from the other, his younger brick red brother, he sensed determination and betrayal, but also deep remorse.
The spell holder had taken him to some place familiar, where he found others surrounding him that were also familiar.
This is home.
And this is our clan.
The thoughts of the True Voice.
Obey.
The spell holder had not given a command for a while, but the body can wait.
Clouded darkness.
The presence of the spell holder.
The far off yet insignificant presences of the others that surrounded him.
The True Voice waited patiently as it could only observe the events that happened around the body through its senses, yet also it felt stronger.
But it was also trapped.
The spirit could no longer take being trapped within and yet separate from the body, for they must somehow be reunited.
The spell holder had gone through the magic book, but there was hopelessness in his voice, guilt, a depression and deep regret emanated from him, greatly sensed by the True Voice.
"I don't know if you can understand me, Goliath," the spell holder said, "But, I'm sorry."
The others surrounding the body expressed doubt and hopelessness as well. The True Voice began to feel hopelessness as well.
There was a faint distance voice from another who was not like the others that the spell holder handed the spell to.
"Okay, Big Guy, I'm holding the spell," said the spell holder, her voice ringing clear as a bell and full of confidence and hope.
"Goliath, I order you to act for the rest of your life exactly as you would if you were not under a spell."
Obey.
Strength came to the True Voice, and yet the darkness resisted. It only weakened as the True Voice countered with its own logic for the need to obey by the spell. Steadily yet slowly, the darkness began to fade; substance replaced emptiness; thoughts and will replaced instinctual obedience.
Goliath's head finally cleared of the mystic enthrallment of the spell like a mist had lifted from a shore, or perhaps like the dawn banishes the night. At least it must have seemed that way for a moment, for indeed light now over powered the darkness.
He slowly shook his head to clear away the remaining haze in his mind and finally opened his eyes; the green colorless world came to life with color and substance, even memories of names and the faces that matched them.
At last, mind and body are reunited, in sync once more as they should be.
The True Voice is again the only voice.
He looked to the spell holder and gave a small smile to her as a name came to his mind.
"Very clever, Elisa," he said with his own voice and his own thoughts, "It worked."
The clan gave a cheer to their restored leader; Brooklyn even attempted a complement to Elisa and her species which she accepted with awkward gratitude.
"Goliath, I'm sorry," Brooklyn again tried to apologize to his leader.
"You apologized once already, Brooklyn," Goliath said gently with acceptance, "I could hear, even though I could not act."
Brooklyn was still devastated by how he believed Demona's deceit and half truths, and although Goliath gently reassured him, the clan leader indeed could see that this experience would haunt him for a long time.
The clan then took their places for the dawn for a day's rest, Goliath now beginning to feel the aches of the night's battle with his lost love.
A moment after seeing an amusingly shocked look upon Lexington's face at the mention of what had happened to the motorcycle, a thought graced Goliath's mind as stone sleep came to him.
She had become so different from what he remembered, what he had hoped to find again.
Had she truly changed so much to actually use magic to enthrall her own mate and deceive a member of her clan?
Or was there still possibly any hope of reaching and once more finding his Angel of the Night?
THE END