A/N:

Sorry about the delay. Haven't been very inspired to write. Anyway, here's a short fic about Robert Jurgen. Hope you like it. More to come when...um...soon I guess...MY BRAIN!

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Ancient History

In the mountainous regions of Germany, a castle stood silhouetted against a blackened sky, brewing energy and chaos within its growing stormy atmosphere. Limestone walls dripped with the pouring rain, evergreens and ivy surrounding the gardens and fountains became drenched in silvery liquid. The storm pelted against the clear windows of the upper chambers, the looming tempest arising, only to be covered by the hanging burgundy drapes. A white-gloved butler, straightened the curtains wistfully, turned to the interior and said, "Will that be all, sir?"

"For the moment, Gustav," replied a soft yet austere voice from the wing chair on the far side of the room.

The butler bowed gently and exited the chamber, closing the door silently behind him. The voice belonged to Robert Jurgen, a young and intelligent aristocrat of seventeen years. His hazel eyes, lit by the flickering firelight that warmed the hearth before which he sat, stared into the empty space of which boredom created. The tranquil and homely setting diluted the growing atmospheric turmoil just beyond the walls. Robert sighed, a bit disappointed at the sudden breakout in bad weather. His plans for an afternoon in London would just have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, he decided to entertain himself with a stroll through the castle.

Robert exited his bedchamber and walked down the carpeted hallway to the library. Cherry-oak shelves towering from ceiling to floor were lined with books preserved from centuries past. Candles lit every inch of the room, creating a mystical golden atmosphere. He walked across the shimmering wood flooring, oriental rugs strewn here and there, and climbed the spiral staircase on the far side of the room.

Coming upon his most favored section, his fingers hovered over the leather bindings of the history and legends of his own family, entitled with fantastic tales of knights, dragons, epic battles, family lines and inheritances. His eyes glanced to the tattered edging of a volume, the title emblazoned in gold, in which read: 'The Gryphon.'

Enwrapped in the augur the title emitted, he made himself comfortable upon a plush couch situated beside the stained glass window on the far wall. Arrayed in splendid color was the form of a mystical beast, amber eye gleaming in the lightning flashing forth from the outside world. Robert did not see it, for his mind delve deep into a world long forgotten, where reality and fantasy collide, and made no effort to escape.

"Long ago, in the age of knights and valor, there lived a young Lord that ruled the land of the Germans. The people loved him and respected him and held him in high esteem. However, the land was anything but peaceful. The threat of the northern Celts was slowly rising and growing, causing terrible distress among the peasants. They came with fire arrows and horses, thundering across the valley plains and crashing through the mountains, bringing uproars and rebellions.

The counselors had advised the young Lord to take action many times during the past half-year, however he feared his army might be weak and outnumbered. He took great pride in his country and wished not for its demise, but his youth and inexperience proved to dissuade his decision.

The time came, to move. On the eve of the full moon, the young Lord received a challenge from the leader of the Celts, to battle upon the Valley of Druids. Summoning courage into his heart, he rallied his armies to meet the Celtic threat looming on the horizon. Armed with swords, spears, chariots and waving banners, the army marched out into the field, strong-willed and tight-lipped, ready to meet the challenge. Standing valiant on the other side, the Celts raised their spears and at the sound of a horn, charged.

The battle was terrible and bloody, dragging out long into the night. The Germans were overwhelmed by the might of the Celts and many perished by the sword. The young Lord injured and strewn upon the field, looked to the heavens and prayed for salvation. "I am at the last of my power. My army has fallen, young men slain by the hands of my enemies. I pray for a miracle! If there be any hope, let it come."

Suddenly the sky turned to onyx, and the earth shook with the violence of the shifting peaks. The moon shone bright in the night sky and blinded the eyes of all but the young Lord, who lay prostrate before the vision. Looking upward to view the sight, he gasped as the luminous sphere split in two, birthing an infant creature. The animal had an eagle's face, and the wings of a flying beast. Its forelimbs were the claws of the sky hunter and its hind like that of a lion. Slowly, its plump form crept across the night sky and sat down before the glowing ban of stars. Extending a pink tongue, it lapped the milk of the heavens until it was filled. Aglow with the power of the luminaries, it grew into a powerful beast, mouth agape and roaring louder than the thunders of the highlands. Its amber eyes looked down to the insignificant form of the young Lord, presenting itself as the gift of his prayers.

"Fear not, young one. I am the Gryphon, born from the stars and guardian of the righteous. I am the being of courage and vigilance. Do not be afraid, for I have come at the sound of your voice. I shall prove to be with your people until the end of time. Fear not, young ruler, for victory is yours."

The young Lord raised his sword in applause to the great creature, a shimmering stone reflecting the fire in its eyes. In answer, the beast turned from its place among the stars and flew down and swift as a tempest toward the Lord. Filled with confidence and valiant faith the young Lord felt no fear as the great animal approached.

In an instant, the brute had vanished, leaving the young Lord aghast. Looking around he found himself renewed and back on the battlefield, sided amongst those still standing. In his hand was the great sword, only how changed! The amber jewel shone like the sun and the symbol of the great beast appeared upon the flags and crests and chariots of all in the German army. However, it was the sword that possessed the spirit of the miracle, and the young Lord's might was renewed.

The tides had turned as the Germans fought back against the Celtic hordes. Armed with the mystical powers of the strange animal birthed from the heavens, they obliterated their enemies and sent them fleeing from whence they came. All rejoiced in the great victory and praised the might of their Lord.

The young man shook his head calmly and said to them, "Nay, my men, it was the gift sent from the heavens that saved us. This great beast birthed of the stars with the might of a thousand lions and the swiftness of a thousand flying eagles. The powerful brute of which the stars have named: the Gryphon. My people, let us forever cherish and honor this magnificent creature which has saved our people and has sworn to protect all those who reside in this land."

Thus the Germans prospered and remained undefeated in their battles with whoever came against them, with all gratitude to the great creature that saved them: the Gryphon."

Robert closed the book and reflected upon the words he had read. Many who had read this story had thought it but a myth, a legend spawned from mere fantasy. How wrong they were. He retrieved a slivery blue beyblade from his trouser pocket, eyeing the golden emblem glistening upon its face. It was the very essence of that beast of which he read in a book deemed mythical. How many had been blinded by such feeble realities. They had dismissed a living spirit and its story as falsehood and fancy. Such fools they are...

Returning the book to its place, he gazed in awe at the splendid representation of the legendary beast that lay within his very grasp. It rose up before him upon wings of ivory, eyes aglow with firelight and thunder, its power echoing in the roar of the storm. How they mock thee, great Gryphon. I pity such foolhardy souls that dare put away the truth behind the legend.

Smiling he turned and exited the library, leaving the realm of, not myth and legend, but of...

...Ancient history.