The Gargoyle Halfling: Chapter Three
The Unwanted Truth, Part 2
Elisa Massa walked, or rather stomped her way up to the top of the Xanitos building, having finally been given permission by him to go to the top of the building and to the castle atop of it. What was going on up there? Whatever it was it was serious enough to block the detective from entering, much less to see her…well, her love, she guessed. It had been an entire year since she discovered her feelings for a certain amethyst Gargoyle, and he, in turn, proclaimed his love to her. It happened moments before the sun rose, Elisa barely having enough time to jump and kiss the tall being; he was turned to stone with a smile upon his face.
But now, as the elevator doors opened to the castle lobby, she must think in the present, not dwell in the past; at least for now. Xanitos appeared suddenly—as always—in front of the naturally tanned woman, giving Elisa all the more reason to yell at him. "Why, hello there, David Xanitos. What are you up to now; some sort of nasty plot against my friends, I'm sure." Spitted out, her words were fueled with pure, practical hatred, she now starting to truly let out all of that pent up frustration the man gave her and her friends. It had been more than two years since he had done anything to them, but she still could not forgive him for what he had done to her or her Gargoyle friends, even if they were once again protecting their castle—his property.
"Easy, Detective; I don't want to fight, especially now." he held up his palms to signal his words were true. "I have guests staying up here—one is rather…ill—and I suggest you keep your tongue in your head." Before either of them could talk further a noise came from upstairs, in the infirmary area. Xanitos had a feeling the girl was awake and made his way to the top of the stairs, a confused female cop tailing him. The man opened the doors and stood there, stunned; Elisa brought up the rear and peered over his shoulder to see what the usually-calm man was disturbed about. She too looked at the group in front of her in shock.
The original clan was there—Hudson, Broadway, Bronx, Lexington, Goliath—her Goliath—and Brooklyn coming in through the upper entrance. Right behind him was what looked to be a nearly naked female gargoyle, though to the Detective's keen eyes she knew the girl wasn't at least fully gargoyle. A man had now stood up, looking at the two coming down.
Goliath now spotted Elisa, his love, and went toward her—she too walked into his arms, though her eyes were still on the unexpected company. Goliath knew the cop wanted some answers, so in a whisper he tried to give a reasonable explanation for all of the past week.
Meanwhile Madilen was blushing still from the fact that she was naked and, to her disgust and surprise, rather filthy. She did take into consideration, however, that she hadn't bathed since she got here—which she still didn't know even that. Wanting to break the unwanted silence she kindly asked for the bath room so she could wash up. Owen appeared—which made Madilen nearly jump ten feet—and, with an uninterested demeanor of a snot-nosed butler, showed the girl to the bathing area. The man left, leaving Madilen to actually examine her true body and to wash it, which she would do with as much vigor as her tired mind would allow.
The silence that the Halfling left behind her was practically unbearable to the mixed company. One person would try to speak, wouldn't be able to put their thoughts into words and stop; immediately another would try the same technique, only to end with the same results as the last. John would have nothing to do with this "game", however, for he was trying to think of how he was to explain everything to his daughter, not just his fellow beings. The cop he didn't care if she heard the story; it seemed she was already well acquainted with the Manhattan Clan—a little too well, he thought as he saw how Goliath and the woman looked at each other. John could tell that the two were not even close to being lovers, just having feelings for one another; this made him think of his beloved wife—and his daughter. He went to get some more bourbon seeing as how it made one relaxed, even if the man wasn't exactly a drinker of the stuff. A door opening disturbed this action, and all in the room turned to see the guest of honor, as it were.
It was Madilen, her dirty blonde hair shining in the light and her warm chocolate eyes looking around the room and seeing the unchanged company was staring right back her, seeing how much she had changed in just a half hour. She wore something along the lines of what Angela wore; only it was dark blue-almost black in color. Her beastly feet were wrapped with a soft leather material. Later on she would say it's to protect the tender flesh beneath. Her skin glowed with beauty—making her the ideal model for the boys in the room (tee-hee)—and wings and tail "spines" were almost transparent, her veins pulsing with blood through the thin membranes. Her entire body—including tail—was marked with the shadows of muscle and litheness. All and all, she seemed more gargoyle than human. Her hands were the only obvious thing that gave her away; they were human hands with the nails of a gargoyle.
Elisa walked up to the girl, all the while her friends were protesting for they feared the girl, though the elders of the clan only wanted the girl not to hurt anyone; the boys were just plain scared of her. Elisa saw the girl was barely 5'5" in stature, and asked her a rather silly question: "Where did you come from, sweetie?" Madilen only looked into the cop's eyes, her left wing unfolding and pointed to her father, her arms firmly at her sides. "Ask him. After all," she turned her angry gaze to him, "he already has some explaining to do. Don't you, dad?" She forced out the last word with rue, blaming him for her life's change. Elisa glanced at the man then back at the girl; she walked him. "Would you please explain to us what happened?" Elisa put a gentle hand upon John's shoulder, making them sag like he had a heavy burden upon his back, the cop's hand only adding to the weight. John only stood and looked into his daughter's eyes—and only her eyes—and told of what he remembered that fateful night.
As he told them of the woman—the Sorceress—that casted her spell upon his family, and how he remembered something of a name, such as Morgan-le-something, Madilen only stared at him in disbelief. He always seemed to have no interest in myths and legends—totally unlike her—yet here he was confessing that he met up with a woman of magic. The tale was over, and Madilen walked up to her father, only pity was shown in her eyes. "What was the woman's name again?" she asked. "It was…Morgan le…Morgan le Stray? No, no. That's not it…" Madilen and the other Gargoyles went rigid; they all knew whom he was talking about. "Morgan le Fay? That's impossible, dad! She was around centuries ago, and she was King Arthur's sister; died of poison, if the legends are true." Hudson spoke up, his Scottish accent still detectable even after all this time of living in New York. "Nay, it was an attempt and from her brother, no doubt; nobody heard of her since then." Elisa now spoke. "So you all think she is still alive?" Hudson nodded to his friend. "Most likely, lass. Those who dwell in magic have the annoying ability to live longer than they should. Take the Sorcerer for example; nasty son of a wench, I tell you. Gave me this scar, he did." He pointed to his blind left eye.
Madilen looked out to the bustling city below, glowing with the yellow hue of street lights. "Is it just me, or is reality and fantasy becoming one?" she muttered as the rest of the clan went to patrol the city with Elisa. Though she had a feeling something was to become of her new life. And that something she won't like.
