WARNING: This is a tragedy with violence. This has a PG 13 rating, if you feel that that is inappropriate, I will change it to M. It is also a diary for the most part until the last three pages where it changes POV. Please alert me of any mistakes, as of this was written in about 8 hours.

Fragments

DAY 1

Adonis advised me that I should perhaps keep a log on our recent exploits to the hatching lands, being that I am the only one remaining of our clan since the passing of Core and her mate Nestor a fort-day ago who is capable of both reading and writing script.

Like many people, I feel that there is no particular need to keep track of our passing to the hatching lands, where two years ago, our eggs were carried off for protection. I heard once, where they start writing, they start forgetting. Like my father before me, I feel that perhaps this is true. The mind is a flexible wonderful thing. I saw the brain of a goat once, a strange thing of coils and folds, and wondered if my mind is very much like that, and what all is held with in those coils and folds. Anyway, my thoughts on writing are quite simple, despite the fact I am capable of it, if our minds grow weak and forgetful that we must rely on tablet, what would happen if we did not have a tablet to write upon? Then memories and history would be lost. The brain is a highly capable storage unit, why abuse and ignore it?

Anyway, I feel like I am babbling to a piece a paper. And if this piece of paper has any mind, I guess I might as well tell it what has happened in the past few years that led to the fragments of our clan scurrying to our eggs.

Six years ago was the laying year. All the females our clan laid their eggs. It was my first year with child. Needless to say, the laying process was much smoother than I was warned by the elder females, but my egg was much smaller than the rest. They claimed occasionally it is normal for a first time female to lay a smaller egg. But it still concerned me that the egg is merely a sterile egg. The few years I spent with my egg proved otherwise since it did not stink of rot. Now I am concerned whether my bantling will favor me or Hyperion in features. Enough prattling…

Three years and four months ago: the humans who live down in the valley of the Mountain of Parnassus sometimes send a woman up to the lower caves, the caves we have the common sense and knowledge to avoid. The caves leak an invisible, but strong gas, and too much intake will send one into hysterics. In my younger days I was in the vicinity of the cave and too much of the gas entered my lungs. I spent about two nights wondering through the forest in a brightly colored cloud that even the goddess Iris would envy. Anyway, this is why I rather dislike paper I have a tendency to prattle on, the woman spent two days in the cave fasting and breathing in the air. During a stag hunt, she disturbed us, running through the forest and hills screaming about featherless harpies and cracking eggs and stone that throbbed like breathing chests. She actually knocked herself out running into an oak. We carried her back to the village. She stank of gas.

Almost three years ago going on two: we lost two clan members, young Mercury the only one of us with webbed wings like a flying squirrel and elder Morpheus. Morpheus actually passed on first. He was old, even for the standards of Gargoyles, almost two and a half centuries old. For many years he had been our mentor, but his mind has gone in the past two decades, so perhaps it was for the better he passed. He had gotten lost during a hunt, and three nights later a hunting party found his shattered remains. We are not sure, since he was so old, whether he passed on in stone sleep and his appearance had frightened humans, and they smashed him, or during sleep he was smashed. We are still very much unsure, though in our current state of mind we lean to the latter. Mercury was to blame for his own fall. He was young and foolish, and used to bother the horses the humans kept and jump on their backs and ride them for quite a distance before being bucked off. He attempted to ride one of the horses one night, little did we know that wolves from the mountains had killed a colt, and was speared out of fright. He made it back to cave before daybreak. The next night he remained in stone, curled up in a fetal position grasping his stomach. We turned him to powder and let him drift down to the pasture where the horses grazed.

Two years Eight Months ago: Adonis's mate and our second in command, Eos, disappeared. Adonis caught a human with the stone curled horn of her around his neck like a trophy. He escaped because Adonis broke down in tears, weakening his grasp around the human. We buried her in the pool surrounded by narcissuses. Adonis has not been the same ever since. He still guards and protects us, but all half heartedly.

Two years six months ago: Two of my rookery brethren were slaughtered by an army that had moved into the village, Io named for her beautiful brown eyes, and Alexander. They were killed as they caught brook trout. Hyperion was wounded trying to rescue them and I managed to slay a soldier who came too close. Hyperion was healed by the next night. We spread Io and Alexander's ashes through the night breeze. We hope the winds carried them far. I pray for their egg.

Two years four months ago: We caught a soldier and slew him since we found him with a hammer and the trinket Io loved to wear around her ankle. We caught and killed two more soldiers the next night, and managed to scare off handfuls more, though never successfully catching any every night afterwards. They have yet to discover our rookery and home. We grew worried.

Two years ago: We caught and killed a soldier in the vicinity of the rookery, though he never discovered it, and would not be alive to tell his commanders what he saw, we became distressed. Adonis and the tribune of elders agreed, we had to move the eggs, though not us since our land needed our protection. There was a mountain chain several flights away. Six of our young females who have not mated yet and were not viewed as fully attached to our land, moved the eggs to a hidden chamber in this mountain range. It took them about two weeks to move the eggs. With the last of the eggs moved there, they stayed there, protecting them as we protected our lands and waited to see what the army was planning.

For the past two years there had skirmishes between us and the army that now took residence with the villagers, who had a tendency of being a scared lot. For the most part, there were deaths on the army's side, not ours. We did not consider it a winning battle, since for every soldier we killed each night another two appeared in his place the next night. We broke off into two groups of seven and one group of six. Two groups would have different sleeping places and one group would sleep in the caves during the day. We killed three commanders of the human army, it is easy to tell them apart from the faceless soldiers thanks to their ornate helmets. It did not frighten them; it only made them more vengeful. Whispers from the humans around us claimed we killed the two beloved brothers of a powerful general.

Finally the army discovered our cave two weeks ago. We lost Nestor, the elder tribune, Core, Hippe, and Jason. We fled that night and are still fleeing. We must get to our eggs. The mountain range is protected by our allies the gryphons and has peaks and cliffs like knives. It is claimed to be impenetrable for those without wings.

There are little groups of the army still chasing after us. We see them underneath us as we glide through the night or glimpses of shining metal in the dark. They are not very quiet either. So for the past three days we have avoided them with ease.

I still pray though.

Day 3

Not much has happened in the previous night for me to write down. Hyperion and Adonis looted the manor of a rich human and absconded with dried tomatoes, a bag of rice, and a lamb. We had no choice in this manner of piracy. We have not had anything to eat since my first entry, there was no big game other than rabbits and wild fowl, and they were very wary thanks to the many humans. Pluto, Ladon, and Phaeton are scouting out the area currently. We had stew tonight for dinner with our find. For safety reasons, we sleep by ourselves and regroup the next night and soon it will be time to sleep. Currently I am in my new nesting spot, in the hollow of massive willow tree. I wonder if it once belonged to a nymph since it so roomy and too beautiful to be growing wild. I hope I do not crack a wing when I break from stone sleep tomorrow. I do wish for the wing of Hyperion. Even the simplest of comforts are now denied. I pray for him and the rest of the clan.

Day 5

The scouting group still has not returned. We waited one night for them in the vicinity of the manor. We pray for the best.

Day 6

Our fears have been confirmed. I saw a group of ten soldiers, dressed in light clothes and armor forquick traveldown by a brook. They all had the stone horns and claw tips of our fallen comrades around their necks. Hyperion and Lycus wanted revenge. I beg them not to go. My pleas finally sunk in. Tonight we traveled in what would take two days in about three quarters of a night. My wings hurt. I found a grotto to hide in tonight, it is nearly day break, though my wings ache like Hades, my hands, though shaking still desire to write. It is nearly day break. There is so much I wish to express currently.

Day 7

Lycus was not lucky. He found a poor place to hide. He hid farther up stream than I, where the water is shallow and the humans spotted him almost immediately as they passed through. We found his remains. Hyperion and him were virtually brothers, so very close since Lycus saved him from a pack of wolves when they were hatchlings. My pleas fall on deaf ears. Hyperion has taken off into the night. We did not travel far tonight, barely making a few miles. We are actually behind the humans, so I guess all is well. I wish to believe it is because our wings are tired, but I think it is because of Rumor and I. Our hearts are so heavy our wings cannot carry us. I bed down for the night in a briar of wild roses.

Day 10

Hyperion has returned to me! Minus one of his beautiful orange horns, but he has returned to me. We grasp arms and kiss. I am thankful, oh Zeus and Hera I am thankful for his return. Rumor has disappeared. She must have returned to where Lycus was murdered. We cannot risk returning to her. Another group of humans has moved up behind us. We now have a group in front us in some unknown area and one catching up behind us.

Hyperion has given me the medallion he had taken from the leader of the group in front of us as a gift. I wish he would not have brought it back.

We find sanctuary in a deep gully tonight.

Day 15

I am sorry very much log, who I will now refer to as Hyperion Logos from now on, for not writing in you. I do this entry with a heart cracked in two.

We were ambushed as we woke from the gully. Our skin was still cracking when the first wave of soldiers poured into the gully. If it was not for the steepness of the walls, then we all would have perished. The soldiers slid down the rocky hillside and were already thoroughly bloody, bruised, and confused when we both fell on each other.

The now oldest member of our clan has fallen in the battle. He was run through when he had not quite broken through his shell. Phoebe, the second youngest passed on as well. A well aimed arrow hit her between her wings, and infection had set in and killed her before sunrise. Her rookery brother and the youngest, Paris, cradled her head in his lap. We buried her body quickly since burning would expose us to the humans. I do not recall where we hid that night, but we were not founded. It was my first night in a long time to be with Hyperion, which despite the warning of the clan, I roosted with him. Truly, one of the most beautiful moments of my life, was waking and seeing his face, still there, still attached to his breathing, soft body. I cried. I do not know for what, maybe I cried for everything and everyone. But I cried.

We escaped the humans for two days. It was near daybreak, only an hour. Many of us were exhausted and starving. We had not eaten in days and the humans were catching up. Hyperion and two other males, Thoas and Balius, told us to stay in the oak thicket and rest. They would take care of the army. I only brushed his wing tips as he left.

Only I went for them the next sunset. I found their ruins twenty miles away. They led them away from us. The only discernable feature of Hyperion was the corner of his face with its eye and brow and a nub of his fine horn. I cried and mourned all night. I took his face, his one eye with me and left the medallion in its place. I wanted to him to see our egg, our new home, and then I will set him free in our new home, to float around and protect the mountains.

It has taken me better part of a night to catch up once again with the rest of the clan who has been spared the sight of the three males. I have caught and killed a boar after much exertion. I ripped it to shreds. It is only Adonis, Paris, and I, Cecelia, left. We ate well tonight.

Day 21

Hyperion Logos! We have reached the cavern! We are rejoined with the rest our clan, the six young females, hale and healthy thanks to an endless supply of mountain goats and pheasants. Oh Hyperion I have to tell you about the mountains. The water is sweet and smells of honey, the hunting appears to be wonderful, and the air, though chilly, is freer than the air back home, and the flying is much easier with the gusts of warm wind from the valleys. It is such a beautiful sight. I have only been here for twenty minutes and I am now sitting outside on round polished rock, which I am quite fond of despite the brevity of being here writing my sights. I am thankful.

Day 22

Hyperion Logos, the egg is doing quite well, all eggs are doing quite well despite the dread of our late clan members that at least one would be cracked upon the move. Mine was easy to find because of its smallness. It throbs with life. I will name it Logos if it is a male, Hyperia if it is female. I have spent much of the night and day with my egg.

Day 24

I thought I saw the glint of metal from another peak tonight as I glided back home. Hours, a young female said it was mica, a mineral common in the mountains that shines like glass or metal when hit by any kind of light and chips easily.

The gryphons have yet to be spotted by us. We have found their old rookeries and faded opal shells and weather beaten feathers, but nothing else. This would explain why the goats are so numerous. Perhaps they too have moved on or are migrating as some birds and mammals do.

Day 25

Hunting was not good tonight which aggravated me. Perhaps I have been spoiled and let it get to me. The goats have disappeared, scared off. I will settle for fried eggs tonight and some mountain plums. I crushed the remains of Hyperion today in a huge ceremony with the remainder of the clan. We ground up marble and other stones and threw handfuls into the wind for our fallen clan mates. Hours and Fate burnt dried petals. Paris and Hours have become mates. She has comforted him much after the loss of Phoebe. It warms my heart to the see the two together.

I will sleep with my egg again today.

Day 26

Oh Logos! One of the young females has found the broken body of soldier as she gathered fruit down in the valleys. He had fallen quite a way and the blood was still fresh. His sword is still stuck in cliff where he attempted to dig it into the side to slow down his descent. My mind is thick with worry and my stomach is in knots. There are too few of us to carry off the eggs, and we cannot leave any behind because they are the young of our fallen companions. Adonis has chosen to seal off the eggs. We must make a stand against the humans. The air is now thick with their scent. I can smell them as I sit here on my rock writing. I believe I hear their footsteps growing closer, their rough words. We cannot leave, we cannot run anymore.

&&&

It is twenty minutes till sunrise, and the darkness of the clouds is starting to fade, though the sun has yet to break through the night. Adonis stands with his arms crossed looking down the narrow, rough valley path. The mouth of the cave has been sealed with a natural looking avalanche. They spent most of the night creating it. By it the young females whisper and speak among one another. Paris is silent. On her stone, Cecilia plays with her plume, breaking it off in sections and scattering it on the cliff.

Adonis sucks in his breath as he feels the firstgust of sun warmed wind.

"It has come," he says.

&&&

Two days passing…

The air is thin in mountains, and Machaon, with his massive Cyclops sized lungs, found it difficult to breathe. Well, he could breathe, but he spent every breath loudly sucking in the chilled air through his mouth. Nix, his companion continually buzzed about his loud, labored breathing.

"It's all in show! Cut it out. It's annoying, and you sound like Charybdis. Your breath is wrinkling my wings!" she complained.

"I do not know why Captain Argos sent you with me," Machaon complained. He clapped his hands as if to smash his fairy like companion between his massive aqua colored hands. Nix squealed.

"Stop that!" she screamed allowing the Cyclops to pass her and buzzed behind him, barely pass an arm's distance away.

"Hey! I can see the mountain peak that gargoyle was talking about! That has to be it!" he exclaimed. Nix buzzed forward, lightly perching on her companion's shoulder. He joked, "I guess it wasn't a rumor, after all!"

"That's not funny or nice. She is dead after all," Nix hissed.

Machaon's facial expression turned serious. "Look we'rein avery stressful situation, at least approach it with a little humor."

"Look, let's cut it with the funny business, convince the gargoyles to join us and get the eggs and get back to the ship in three days before it leaves," Nix hissed. She wrinkled her nose. "And it wasn't funny at all."

"All right, all right, all your whining is slowing us down," he said as his massive Cyclops legs brought them to the cliff.

It was sunset when they arrived on the cliff side.

"Hello! Attention gargoyle clan, we have arrived with a proclamation for your clan…hello?"

It echoed through the mountains. Machaon scratched his head.

Machaon nudged his much smaller companion. "Nix, go check it out."

Nix buzzed up to the cliff, leaving a trail of sparks in her ascent. He heard her shout. "Mac! It looks like they already shed their stone skins and left…or haven't cleaned up since the last time"

"Serious?" Machaon said. He dug his four massive fingers into the cliff side and climbed up, leaving deep ruts in the rock.

"Oh no," Machoan said when he stood up on the cliff side and examined the cliff. The stone piles were much too large to be the mere sheddings of gargoyles. "No no no."

"We're too late, aren't we Mac?" Nix asked. She fluttered to the ground.

"Oh no, no no," he answered, it was he could say. He slid down onto his knees.

"Where are the eggs Mac? The eggs, she kept speaking about the eggs, the eggs Mac," Nix said.

"They have to be smashed already," Machoan answered. "With their parents gone, there is no one to protect them. The army must have already gotten to them."

"Those poor little babies," Nix cried, wiping at her eyes. "Poor little baby gargoyles."

Nix pricked her head up, her lengthy pointed ears catching something. "Do you hear that?"

"It's just the wind, Nix," Machoan answered.

"That's it, it's just the wind, but where's it coming from?" Nix said.

"The sky?" Machoan stated blandly. "Boreas, the northern wind? The harpies? Zeus?"

"No no no! There! The wind is coming from that pile of rocks there and that must mean that there is a cave behind that rock pile! Come on!" she exclaimed buzzing away from him. She disappeared between a gap in the rocks. "MAC! THERE ARE EGGS BACK HERE!"

"You're serious?" he exclaimed, jumping up.

He raced over to the hidden cave, rocks rolled down the cliff side with each bound. Carefully and excitedly, he pulled away each stone, starting from the top and working his way down. In the back of the cave lay eighteen rosy eggs, in perfect condition, albeit a little dust covered. His eye leaked tears. He had to wipe his face.

"They're so beautiful," Nix said, rubbing the dust off one. "They're like big rosy pearls! And they're so warm!"

Carefully Machoan maneuvered the eggs out of the small cave. They were warm to the touch as if they had been setting in the sun; that was a good sign. Inside the huge square basket he carried on his shoulders, he layered the eggs between hay and dried honeysuckle, carefully patting them. They nearly missed the last egg, making the number of eggs nineteen. It was carefully wrapped in papers. Its odd, crumpled roundness and warmth, gave it away; otherwise it would have been forgotten. Machoan placed it in the basket, the crumpled papers keeping it cushioned as they ran out of hay.

He named the last one Prosperina.

Sorry for the long time to update. I've been very busy the past few months. I am working on Reading Material, sorry it is taking so long. I know this is a sad story, but it was an idea chewing at the back of my mind. It took a total of 8 hours to write.