Things to know before reading:

--I like gryphons. :D

Kismet of a Changechild

Chapter III

By Aura Kage

Dawnshadow woke again the next day, feeling restless as she glanced out the window and watched the lizard-creatures dart past purposefully – what were they called? Hertasi?

She needed to move. She had been in bed for two whole days now – had not shifted from this place, had not stood up and walked for what seemed to be such a long time. Nightwind, though she was very nice, just didn't grasp the fact that she needed to move as much as a restless cat did when it knew the day was good…she assumed Dawnshadow was more human than animal, now that she had gotten a change to hold a conversation with her.

Dawnshadow wasn't so sure anymore.

And that was what drove her to stand, to stretch, even to take a few experimental steps out of bed while she waited for Nightwind to come and serve her breakfast…or for one of the hertasi to check up on her and see if there was anything she needed. They did that frequently, though reluctantly where Dawnshadow was, as if they had a duty to be everywhere all at the same time.

The hertasi came first – one poked its snout through a crack in the door, and jumped in surprise when it saw Dawnshadow standing in all her feline-human glory, blinking confusedly at it with wide-pupiled eyes.

"Good morning!" Dawnshadow had told it cheerfully. "Could you please get me something to eat, if it is in your power?"

The hertasi had nodded rapidly and then trotted off, and Dawnshadow wondered if she had either offended or frightened the poor creature, or if it merely wanted to be hasty in getting what Dawnshadow wanted.

Well, while it was gone, the Changechild would amuse herself…however impossible that seemed in this boring place. There was absolutely nothing interesting to look at, now that she had been in the same room for such a long time, though she did flip a cabinet or two that her curiosity had been poking at ever since Dawnshadow had noticed them. They held nothing very interesting – several bottles of what Dawnshadow presumed to be medicinal herbs and such, and probably wouldn't earn her a very good reputation if she played around with them a bit.

The hertasi came back surprisingly quickly, setting a tray of food on the bedside table, whistling jauntily. Before it left, Dawnshadow could see that the hertasi had given her a wink, and smiled at it. This hertasi was different, obviously – maybe the one she had bothered had gone to tell someone else to do the job it didn't want to or had no time to do.

Dawnshadow sat back down on the bed, prodding at the slightly steaming food on the tray. It was nothing she had ever eaten before…not like the bland soup Nightwind had given her to heal, not like the bits of meat she remembered eating in that unknown-time-so-long-ago. Well…it was Tayledras food. If they ate it, it was surely good.

So thinking, the Changechild extended a claw/fingernail and impaled a strawberry on it, bringing to her mouth and savoring the saccharine flavor that drenched her tongue with sweetness.

~

:Bad Snowsong!: Kestri scolded from her perch, tail pumping up and down.

:Sorry, Kestri,: Snowsong apologized, frowning as the kestrel turned her back on him in disgust. :I didn't know you wanted to run the north scout-route instead of the south one.:

:Bad!: Kestri repeated firmly, and stretched her wings, flying off. Snowsong sighed in defeat as his bondbird flew away, and continued on with his run. She would get over it. Kestri usually couldn't keep the same emotion running for over a candlemark or two.

Besides, I won't need her eyes…this route's pretty boring.

Which was precisely why Snowsong had chosen it – he wasn't up for a long, thorough trail today. Too tired, somehow…even though all that he had done yesterday was talk to that Changechild, talk to Kestri, do his 'chores,' and then retire.

I'm turning lazy…

All the same, the whole Vale was getting lazy. There had been no trouble for a long time – no evil blood-path kings or mages, no more mage-storms, no more Changecircles…it seemed that everything even remotely insidious had been eradicated and made doubly sure that it would never, ever happen again.

It's enough to drive someone mad, all this time of peace…like the silence before a storm, almost.

Or maybe he was just trying to think of something – anything – that would signal an interesting tomorrow.

As much as I know that it's horrible to have death and destruction, and as much as I don't want to endanger anyone…

I just want something interesting to happen, is that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was. The Changechild had been nothing – no Nyara, no daughter of an evil Falconsbane. In fact, if anything, she seemed to be an aspiring Wingsister – she simply loved everything that had to do with anything Tayledras…or so it seemed to Snowsong.

Maybe she's just so interested because she's really a spy for a new blood-path mage trying to recreate the Mage Wars…

Or maybe I'm just forcing myself to think about something other than my boredom.

And Snowsong had no friends…he had acquaintances that he could easily deepen a relationship with, but he would rather have his solitude than their companionship. And he'd heard one too many love-stories to think he had fallen in love with some pretty face…and too many to actually fall in love sometime in the distant future.

Sheesh, listen to me. I'm destined to become a hermit.

A Tayledras hermit…like Wintermoon. Maybe he should start thinking about bonding to an owl…

:No. Me only!: a not-so-very-amused mindvoice shrilled in the back of his head.

Snowsong chuckled. No, Kestri would never permit it. Obviously.

:Aren't you mad at me?: Snowsong inquired in mock-meekness.

:No. Not anymore,: Kestri replied, though she sounded very far away and very satisfied. So the kestrel had gone hunting, sated herself, and was content.

:Oh, that's good,: Snowsong replied soberly. :Because if you were still angry, I would have been very lonely.:

:Snowsong needs Kestri,: Kestri told him, pleased and drowsy.

:Yes, I know,: Snowsong replied, amused. :What would Snowsong do without Kestri?:

:Curl up like winter-leaf,: Kestri replied curtly, before dissolving into a nap. That was odd…Kestri didn't usually nap – no, kestrels didn't usually nap.

Then again, kestrels were also not so very conceited.

Or was Kestri being conceited? She sounded pretty sure of herself when she said I would curl up like a 'winter-leaf' without her…which would basically mean that I would curl up like a leaf in winter.

Well, whatever Kestri truly meant – whether she was just playing, or being serious – Snowsong would never know; the kestrel just didn't have enough vocabulary to express it.

Hmph – I know what I'll do when I grow up mateless. I'll work on breeding bondbirds – kestrels – with more intelligence, enough to carry on a less primitive conversation.

Snowsong was fond of kestrels – they were small, beautiful little falcons with the positive outlook of crows and the extreme focus of falcons.

Or maybe Kestri's just unique, the only falcon with a sense of humor.

That in itself was a strange idea.

Meanwhile, he would have to pay attention to the trail, instead of wandering around in his daydreams of kestrels. If by some chance something out of the ordinary happened – which never occurred, nowadays – then he would have to be ready…

And now my circle of thought starts all over again.

Suddenly, he heard a crashing in the bushes – Snowsong turned, a knife immediately clutched in his hand from a hidden sheath in his long-sleeved tunic, and watched the foliage shudder wildly, waiting for a pause.

When one came, there was a rather ominous silence, the absence of birdsong and quiet chattering - as if nothing wanted to call attention to itself.

"Hello?" Snowsong called. The rustling started up again; now Snowsong could vaguely make out a figure rising from the foliage, something dark and fluid as a shadow-

-with glowing crimson eyes that resembled rubies held against the firelight, sable pupils slit to thin, bloodthirsty lines etched onto those wicked optics…

…The thing stared at him, and Snowsong stared back and made out more of the insidious visage – a bloody beak, two pricked ear tufts, and its outline was scratchy, as if feathers were fluffed out in astonishment.

Snowsong nearly laughed in relief. A gryphon. There was no mistaking that mixture of leonine and eagle anatomy.

"You scared me half to death!" Snowsong told the shadow, allowing a grin to spread across his normally inexpressive face. "I didn't think that gryphons hunted down this far…"

The gryphon tensed for a second, then drew itself up and walked towards Snowsong stealthily, tentatively…not as if it were frightened of the scout, but as if afraid that the Tayledras scout would break and run at any second. Something in the way he moved made Snowsong nervous all over again.

"Are…are you alright?" Snowsong asked, backing away. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your hunt, I really am-"

The gryphon cut off his words with a flick of its head sideways and a curt snort, fixing that insidious, ever-hungry stare on the scout.

"Ssshhaade…" the gryphon said with that familiar gryphonic accent.

But there was nothing gryphonic about this creature…somehow, Snowsong felt a pang of fear at that word…it was like hearing something that should never, ever be said, something so ancient and evil that it was better forgotten than remembered.

"Sh-shade?" Snowsong echoed, confused. Within his mind, he mind-tapped Kestri awake.

:What?: the kestrel asked, annoyed. :Sleeping.:

:Kestri…I'm in trouble.:

That woke her up.

:Why? Who?: Kestri demanded fiercely – protectively, Snowsong thought to himself with pride. :Where?:

:Like evil gryphon,: Snowsong said, lowering his use of complicated words, backing away and finding himself against a tree trunk while he projected an image of the surroundings. :Looks hungry. On the trail! Tell Kelvren, isn't he the leader of the gryphons?! Quickly!:

:Tell Kelvren!: Kestri repeated, growing more distant. :Tell Kelvren! Evil gryphon!:

Meanwhile, the thing – Snowsong regretted ever thinking of it as one of the noble creatures allied with the Tayledras – kept forward, turning its head again so both sanguine orbs were focused hungrily on Snowsong. The Tayledras realized belatedly that the thing had talons – enormous, hand-length talons that were stained, like its beak, with blood. Snowsong bit his lip and looked up – back into those eyes that sent shivers down his spine.

"Blood-lussst and ssshhaade," the thing hissed, clacking its beak in anticipation and lifting a talon slightly.

That was all the warning Snowsong needed; with a quick movement of his hand, he threw the knife at the dark creature, his fingers clutching two more ready to throw within a heartbeat. The knife he threw landed squarely in the creature's neck; the thing hissed in anger and clawed at the knife until it came out, with nothing more than a bit of blood on it.

Snowsong kicked himself mentally.

Idiot! What do you think manes are for? Display?

And then kicked himself some more. Those short-bladed knives were all the weapons he had – he didn't think he'd need anything else for such a – dare he say it? – boring scout-trail.

The creature hissed and, as if assessing the situation, leaped forward, rearing like a horse and flailed those wicked talons at the Tayledras, backing him against the tree again and smothering his feeble attempt at escape. Snowsong raised his knives in defense, at least attempting to evade those talons – but they were slashed aside.

"SSSHHAADE!" the thing screeched, knocking Snowsong down with a fisted talon. Snowsong cried out but fell forward, and felt his body connect with the damp soil and undergrowth.

And the talons arched into the sky and slashed down – and down – and down-

:KESTRI!: Snowsong wailed, overcome in horrible lances of pain laid against his back mercilessly – and all he wanted to do was stop, to leave him alone, he never did anything wrong, he never did anything to deserve this-

:That's ENOUGH!: another mind-voice cried, one that was not Kestri's mind-voice, nor the voice of anyone else Snowsong recognized – but it was male and loud – it made Snowsong's mind go wonderfully numb, made him to stunned to feel his pain…

The Tayledras scout turned slightly to see what had happened and saw a massive ivory form rearing and bombarding the creature to the ground with silver clubs – no, with silver hooves-

And then the thing fled into the skies, a blotch of night against the morning, and Snowsong vaguely heard, :Are you alright?:

And then the darkness ensconced his vision, blessed, wonderful darkness…

~

:Tell Kelvren!:

Kestri winged her way to the gryphon regions, screeching and crying in distress. :KELVREN! WHERE KELVREN?!:

"Herrre!" Kelvren called out from below, sunbathing alone in a small meadow. Kestri squawked and swooped down, wings beating rapidly to hover before the immense bronze-hued gryphon with the talent few raptors could muster. "What'sss wrrrong? Who arrre you?"

:Evil gryphon! Help Snowsong!: Kestri told him in rapid Mindspeech, so quick that Kelvren could hardly make out the words, much less do anything about it. :HELP!:

:QUIET!: Kelvren shouted in his own Mindspeech, shocking and silencing the kestrel. :Now…what isss wrrrong?:

:Snowsong said there is evil gryphon!: Kestri said in much slower language, though she was clearly panicking all the same. :In the scout-trail! South! Come quickly! HURRY!:

"Ssshow me!" Kelvren demanded, and Kestri gave the gryphon the image that Snowsong had given her. Kelvren recognized the place immediately – he had never truly cared to be there (bad hunting, and the trees were too interspersed, giving horrible pursuit and no chance of a dive), but had been before all the same. But that odd darkness in the picture was all blurred-

"Tell Keisssha!" Kelvren told Kestri, knowing that the kestrel was too panicked to question the gryphon's orders on her. "Tell!"

:Tell Keisha!: Kestri repeated, head nodding; and then she was off, shrieking madly again, while Kelvren made his way to the place on foot…rather, talon and paw. It was hard to navigate to that place, but out of walking and flying he chose the former.

By the time Kestri passed the Veil, half the Vale knew she was there by her raucous screams; some ever-serious bondbirds watched with distaste as the kestrel hovered about, trying to find Keisha.

:Keisha! Keisha! Need Keisha, tell Keisha!: Kestri said repetitively, as if to make sure she didn't forget.

:Keisha not here,: Kuari told Kestri from inside a building somewhere, his Mindvoice billowing in disgust. :Go away.:

:Where Keisha?!: Kestri demanded frantically. :Tell!:

:Breon. Too far. Tell Nightwind,: Kuari advised sleepily. :Go away now.:

:NIGHTWIND!: Kestri called, growing hoarse. The poor kestrel had never had so much to say in one day.

"What?" Nightwind asked. Kestri cried in relief – someone had answered quickly this time.

:Snowsong! Trouble! Evil gryphon, scout-trail-south, hurry, quickly!: Kestri relayed; and then collapsed at the trondi'irn's feet.

~

Dawnshadow looked out the window, partly curious as to what that screeching was, partly because Nightwind had left her and she wanted to see what she was doing outside. She didn't have long to wait; mere moments later, Nightwind returned with a limp form held in her hands. Dawnshadow froze, eyes widening, as Nightwind laid the thing down on her bed. It was feathery.

"Is it-?" Dawnshadow began, watching the bird, but Nightwind interrupted.

"She isn't dead. I'm guessing that her bondmate got a shock, and she got a reflection of whatever it was," Nightwind explained with a casual shrug. But there was something too casual in that shrug that Dawnshadow detected – the Changechild decided to prod at it.

"What happened?"

"Well, the poor thing was crying something about evil gryphons…" Nightwind said doubtfully, as if unsure whether to take action against that, or to ignore it.

"Ah…gryphons," Dawnshadow said, trying to sound as if she knew what those were. "Snowsong said they are peaceful monsters…yes?"

"Kind of. Well, watch her while I check to see what happened, will you? Watch her," Nightwind repeated, as if telling Dawnshadow that the bird was not a special treat. Then Nightwind's brow furrowed – as if listening to Mindspeech – and she nodded once, urgently.

"She is a bondbird. I will not eat her," Dawnshadow said, running her long, slender fingers over the bird's soft form. She could feel it breathing, marveled in the softness of that multicolored, yet earthly-toned plumage. She would never dream of eating this poor, beautiful little creature…

In fact, wasn't this Snowsong's own bondbird?

"Nightwind-" Dawnshadow started, but the trondi'irn was gone already. Oh, well. Sighing, Dawnshadow continued to run her fingers over the bird, somehow feeling as if she did that, the bird would come back to health quicker.

~

When Kelvren arrived at the scene, he was too late.

Someone had beaten him to it.

A still very enraged someone, at that.

:He flew away!: the Companion snarled, stomping a forehoof on the ground in anger. He seemed very agitated – his bleached coat, though not obvious at first, was stained in all manner of brown hues, his silver hooves half-dirtied possibly because they had sunk into damp earth.

"Who hasss flew away?" Kelvren asked, confused. He and the Companion had not exchanged pleasantries – simply saw each other and identified each other as allies. Kelvren recognized the trademark ivory coat and sapphire eyes of a Companion, the Companion recognized the trademark fierceness and hissing and trilling of a gryphon accent, as well as the unmistakable appearance.

Kelvren marveled dimly that the Companion was speaking to him – but then, this Companion was without Chosen. He didn't know much about k'Valdemar, but he knew that Companions strictly refrained from Bespeaking, which was Mindspeaking outside of their Chosen. Perhaps Companions without Chosen were allowed to Bespeak. He didn't know. He frankly could not care.

:Him! That – thing!: the Companion growled, shaking his head, mane tossing like a wave of sea foam hitting the shore. :He looked – like you, except he was black.::

"How do you know he wasss not me?" Kelvren asked.

:Because you would not do this!: the Companion replied, jerking his head at something on the ground. It was red – a deep crimson Kelvren knew immediately was blood. And there was a strip of fabric there that was colored like the forest, something like-

Scout's colors.

"Isss that a Tayledrrrasss ssscout?" Kelvren asked, beak agape. As the Companion was about to answer, the gryphon stopped him. "No, neverrrmind. We will have to get him back to the vale beforrre he can be trrreated, and then you can talk."

:How?: the Companion asked. :I may look like a horse, but he isn't exactly fit enough to ride at the moment.:

"I will sssend forrr help," Kel assured the Companion, who seemed to sigh in relief.

:Nightwind, if you can hear me, I need assistance,: Kel told Nightwind via Mindspeech, trying to sound calm. His Mindvoice, unbeknownst to him, however, trembled with rage. :We have a very injured scout here, and we need to get him back to the Vale quickly.:

:Oh, gods!: Nightwind cursed as she saw the mental mind-image. Then she 'terminated' the connection, presumably to search for the help needed.

:That's good,: the Companion responded, shaking his tail and head irritably. :Because I need to get to my Chosen.:

"Oh, you Chossse, mm?" Kelvren said, making an attempt to have conversation. "With whom?"

:I don't know her name,: the Companion told the gryphon truthfully. :But she's my Chosen.:

"I sssee…" the gryphon responded. "Well, thisss Tayledrrrasss will get to the vale sssoon enough. If you could pleassse come asss well, to dessscrrribe the attackerrr to Darian…"

:Oh, I will,: the Companion said offhandedly. :I need to.:

"And why isss that…?"

:Because that is where my Chosen is.: