Flight to Crystal Moon, Part #3
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The Guardian's Mountain; Guardian's Lake . . .
The sun was setting over Crystal Moon. The last rays of the sun brushed the mountains and valleys as it dipped behind the horizon, bidding the world one last warm good-bye. Creatures of the night emerged from their dens while others settled in for a night of rest. They greeted the crisp air with vigor while the human and gargoyle inhabitants did whatever suited them best. The air was crisp and fresh after the sudden storm. Trees and bushes still swayed in the gentle breeze left over from the chaos and a few individuals even began to clean up the destruction it had rent in the forests. But all things considered, the night was peaceful again.
Deep snorts and grunts echoed throughout the sky as a large group of miniature dragons flew in for a landing on the plateau above Guardian's Lake. They were known as Yerlings, a term referenced from the word yearling due to their size. They were often mistaken as adolescent dragons of a separate, but similar and larger breed. To some they were considered the most colorful species alive. Luxurious manes draped down their necks and a fine layer of downy fur covered their thick, glistening scales. They were loyal, docile and intelligent mounts with an obedience to make any rider proud. Their riders usually consisted of humans and minor fay and sat upon expensive and exquisitely decorated saddles, which stated their class and wealth. The riders sat straight and tall in their saddles allowing their elegant gowns to flow freely and proudly behind them.
As the Yerlings landed softly on the grass, the Dragon Masters, as they were called, began to speak soothing and praising words to their mounts. These people were good-natured and kind and each shared a similar love for life and their symbiotic mounts.
As they climbed down from their saddles, they greeted each other with laughter and smiles and began setting up camp. They removed the saddles from their mounts, removed supply bags and some of the women went down to the lake to gather enough water for everyone to share. The dragons helped themselves. They stood almost as tall as a giraffe but even with considerable bulk they were extremely gentle and mindful of those around them. There were children in this party after all.
After taking a long drink each Yerling settled down for a rest. It was tiresome carrying people and supplies for many hours at a time. Sometimes they carried more than one person at once and others carried supplies, which was helpful when there was more than one dragon to a family. Sometimes families shared their dragons and allowed neighbors to mount their supplies on the patient beasts' back.
Camp was laid in a circular formation with the Yerlings sitting in the outer rim. Each Dragon Master and his or her family, or even a single Dragon Master if unmarried, would set their tents and other materials before their dragon, or dragons. This helped to add security and calmed the sometimes over protective beasts, especially when the children ran together and plaid together. It was a tactic they'd developed centuries ago before coming to Crystal Moon and even though the island was relatively peaceful they had yet to abandon the practice, especially now with rumors circulating the island of Constantine's return. Already there were traces of his presence. Several of the coastal cities had been captured by several of his strike forces and corruption was running rampant.
Or so the rumors said.
The children never strayed far from their parent's watchful gaze. The youngest played happily while the older children helped their parents prepare for the group meal or perform last minute mending on travel worn clothes. Some children spent time with young Yerlings, creating a bond that would open the door to rider and mount. Such a bond and experience to match was necessary. Each Dragon Master was a traveling merchant by trade, tradition and heritage. The traveled the island all year long selling their talents or serving those most in need. Three times of the year they stopped to rest for a month or two at the base of Guardian's Mountain. During this time, they served each other and provided ideas for new products, artwork or entertainment. More importantly they allowed the dragons their space. The dragons would breed during fall and give birth a full year later during spring to a fully formed and healthy pair of dragonlings.
Each set of twins immediately received the devotion of their parents and the Dragon Masters in turn. The socialization was very important and when one didn't survive everyone gathered together to mourn the loss.
This was the farthest thing from one young man's mind, however. He and his giant group leader, a blue bull or 'emperor dragon' were restless. He was a sculpture by trade and talent. There was nothing other than sitting atop his beloved Falcor that he loved doing more. He chiseled stone, shaped clay and carved wood to create the most beautiful masterpieces anyone had ever seen. He was well known throughout Crystal Moon's three cities and he was very proud of what he did.
Gettele L'Yarms smiled. Someday he hoped to honor the future Guardian of New Atlantis with a special sculpture. It was just his way of showing his support and appreciation to a warrior who would work so hard for all involved.
He turned as Falcor settled beside him and crunched on some fruits and vegetables before tearing at a fresh cut slab of meat. Smiling, Gettele reached out to pat the beast's shoulder and stared at the world around him. He'd always been spellbound by how green and lush Crystal Moon was and wondered if there were lands in the outside world that were just as green. Winter came for such a short time here. The rivers and springs never completely froze over and flowed as freely as birds flew. Life flourished here, enough so that it could almost be called paradise.
One would think that such a peaceful environment would settle Gettele's restlessness, but it didn't. A terrible storm had struck the night before, forcing them to take shelter in a large cave system farther to the east. There were signs of a battle amidst the storm as well, although no one had known for certain. As the storm and the strange flashes of light died, a wave of dragon men lead by an unknown dark skinned gargoyle fled Crystal Moon. Everyone was stunned at how easily they came and went and wondered if the barrier around the island was as strong as so many claimed.
He glanced at the lake and studied its mirror smooth surface. There was a steep cliff a few paces away from him where the grass just ended. There was a separate path a short distance away where the women had gone to gather water but somehow his eyes fell on this cliff. Most of the lake was surrounded by this rocky wall. The children knew not to go near it but just to be safe a few sentries were placed on guard to avoid unnecessary tragedies.
Sighing, he got up and approached the ledge. Falcor watched him curiously, his big blue eyes blinking with serene concern at his master's discomfort. He stared at what he could see of the sandy shore down below and followed the lake's rim all the way around. He didn't see anything that was out of place but something didn't feel right. He stepped closer to the ledge so he could see a little more over the rim and started when he spotted a figure sprawled in the sand.
Lying on the beach below was a one of the largest male gargoyles he had ever seen still encased in stone hibernation. He frowned and knelt down as if that'd give him a better glimpse. Odd, he thought. Gargoyles never turn to stone on Crystal Moon. Not unless . . . could he be a new arrival? A guest from the outside world? A new gargoyle always turns to stone for the first two days or so until the island's shielding magic covers them.
He studied the powerful physique, the fatigued face and the stiff tail and taught wings. Pain was etched over that handsome face. His garment and hair clung to him as though he had been dipped in water before turning to stone. And then a thought struck him; had this warrior been caught in the storm last night and also in the battle it carried with it? If so, had the waters been his only escape? How badly had he been injured.
He was injured enough apparently, he thought anxiously as he stood and turned to look at the others behind him. He must have had enough strength only to pull himself ashore before sun rise. Poor man.
"Falcor! Duncan! Come here, quick!" he called over his shoulder and carefully climbed down the steep cliff.
His dragon friend lifted his head from a game with a dragonling and after grunting a farewell bounded over obediently. He released a groaning roar that sounded like a zebra's whinny mixed with the snarl of an oversized lion. He peered over the ledge as another robed human joined them. He wore purple and silver robes as opposed to Gettele's blue and silver. He had graying hair and a handsome aged face full of laugh lines. He gazed down at his young friend in alarm and curiosity.
"What is it, Gettele?" Duncan called.
"Look beneath me," Gettele ordered. "And to my right."
Falcor and Duncan complied - and saw the gargoyle that lay on the beach. They gasped in alarm as other Dragon Masters rushed to them. They ignored the questions that arose, letting their eyes stay fixed on the seemingly wounded figure down below.
"It's a gargoyle!" he cried.
"What do you suppose happened to him?" someone to his left asked curiously.
"Is he dead?" asked a child near Falcor, who howled and launched into the air. He beat his wings several times until he was beside the wounded gargoyle. Gettele hopped the rest of the way down and knelt at the sleeping warrior's side. He didn't recognize this warrior, or at least he didn't think he did, but there was something familiar about him.
He plucked a piece of sea grass from the warrior's brow and gasped. "Stars! I don't believe it!"
"Don't believe what?" Duncan asked as he finally joined them. Gettele regarded him in fascination. He was still quite limber and agile for his age. "Who is – by the beards of dragons!" he suddenly cried, staring in disbelief at the mark on the warrior's brow. "It's him!"
Gettele fidgeted as he glanced at the sky. The sun hadn't set yet but it would soon. "Come; let's get him up with the others. Falcor can you carry him?"
Falcor honked affirmatively and gently lifted the warrior into his huge arms. He took a few steps away from the cliff and with a fierce beating of his wings alighted on the ledge several feet above them.
"Let's get up there," Duncan grumbled and began the long climb up.
*********
Goliath breathed in deep and opened his eyes. He found himself in an unfamiliar place surrounded by a warm silvery mist. There was cool grass at his feet but he didn't see it through the swirling mist. Light bathed him from somewhere above. He felt calm despite his obvious confusion. He was also very aware that this was a dream.
"What place is this?" he wondered as he reached out to touch the mist and watched it swirl away from him in a hurry.
"It is a place of secrecy."
Goliath whirled around but saw no one. "Who's there?"
"A friend, Goliath. A . . . part of your family."
He quirked an eye ridge. "Who are you?"
"I am your ancestor, Reul, Guardian of Atlantis," the voice replied. Goliath had to shield his eyes as the light above him descended and became much brighter. He waited until the light faded to get a good look at his visitor and gasped; other than a few subtle differences, like large horns on his head for one, the warrior that stared back at him was a near identical copy of himself.
Only he was taller.
Much taller.
"Impossible!" he breathed.
Reul, the Guardian of Atlantis, shook his head. His image shimmered with magical light at the movement. "No. It is very possible." He turned and gestured at the mist. A wall of light appeared and formed into a circle. A second later images of different clans all over the world appeared inside it.
"You have begun an admirable journey, Goliath. But I wonder, did you know it was foreseen that you would join the world together? Did you know that you would become the next Guardian?"
Goliath stared at him. "What?"
Reul nodded. "It is in your blood. It is your destiny. And I beg you to accept. You were born with the mark on your brow, the same as mine. With time clans of the world will come to recognize the mark as well. They will bow at your feet for you will be a leader among leaders, a keeper of all clans and a keeper of peace."
Goliath's head was swimming. A small part of him had always known a day like this would come, especially since he'd started reading the journal. Yet, to have it thrown in his face so casually like this . . . it just couldn't be! One clan leader never dominated another. Clans lived harmoniously, just as humans did – or should.
"Normally I would say yes," Reul muttered and Goliath stared at him. Just like his mother, this warrior could read his thoughts before he even thought them. "But it is inevitable. Clans will one day bind together in order to defeat a terrible evil and they will need a leader to show them the way. I would have taken the position myself but my time as Guardian of Atlantis has passed. Now it is time for the Guardian of New Atlantis to rise, and I beg you to take your place."
Goliath couldn't answer. He didn't know how to answer. It was just . . . impossible! How could his lineage come to this? And all because of one mark.
"My son, it is time," Reul told him. "Gargoyles of the world will need someone they can believe in, a symbol of the strength and peace they desire. I know it is much to take in. But it must be done. Please, Goliath, please help our kind rise above the woes that hold us and bring in an era of peace."
"That is what I want," Goliath admitted slowly. "For all of us; human and gargoyle alike."
Reul smiled. "Good. That will make the journey easier. The battle itself will be difficult but it can be done. Surround yourself with friends and allies and you shall have nothing to fear."
"One could only hope," Goliath muttered.
"Fear not," Reul chastised gently. "You love your clan and you have compassion for those in need." He smiled secretively. "You remind me of a certain swordsman whose heart is as kind as it is fierce, but you are more stubborn and proud by nature than he. His hair is as red as flame."
Goliath started. "Do you speak of the warrior we encountered, Himura Kenshin?"
Reul shook his head. "I speak of my brother, Red Lance, his ancestor. But they are very similar."
Goliath just stared at him.
Reul glanced at the brightly lit world above them and sighed. "It is time for you to leave, Goliath," Reul told him sadly. "It is dawn."
Goliath followed his gaze and stared. He really was in a dream.
"Have you the Seal of the Guardians, Goliath?" Goliath turned at the question and then pulled the Seal out from the pouch he kept at his side. "Ah. Good." Reul took it and it started to glow. "This Seal is guarded by magic, my son, and it can be harnessed by anyone willing to use it in the defense of others. But it remains in our family, a symbol of our blood and our oath. It was a sign for you along with the journal which Puck secured for me."
Goliath stared at him. "But, the journal . . . I had thought that Xanatos's archeologists had discovered it."
The Guardian shook his head. "Yes and no. Puck had secured it earlier and after awaiting my instructions he gave it to you. Or rather, he let Xanantos give it to you."
Goliath's jaw dropped. "Puck!?" he cried incredulously. "You trusted a TRICKSTER with your shield?"
The Guardian chuckled. "Yes and it is because he is dutiful and honorable, despite certain, ah, habits. He is a trickster – a rather infuriating one, I do admit – but he is our greatest ally. Even when under service to Xanatos he would never have allowed you to be harmed. Believe it or not, he has a great respect for you and a great love for people around him. It doesn't always show, but it is there. And sometimes it's apparent in the aftermath of his tricks and games. People learn something from them, and that makes Puck happy."
Goliath thought about that for a moment. Perhaps that is true, he conceded. I don't recall the Puck having the particular glow in his eye that he does now. He enjoys being with the Xanatos family, and he's seemed to enjoy being in the company of my clan, as well. Still, I wish that he could be just a little more . . . behaved, perhaps.
The Guardian chuckled at him and Goliath glared at him. He didn't like the thought of someone picking his brains like this for his most private thoughts. Yet somehow he wasn't as angry or as offended as he should be. Something in this warrior's presence was both awe inspiring and pleasant.
"I apologize," The Guardian said kindly. "I think that's the first thing we will need to teach you, Goliath; how to protect, project and center your own thoughts. That's always important in the field of magic."
Goliath scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "I would have to agree," he rumbled, but found he was smiling.
The Guardian smiled back and they shared a moment of silence as they enjoyed the peaceful serenity of the meadow around them. "Still," he said after a moment of silence as he shrank the shield and handed it back to Goliath. "There are people waiting for you. Keep that shield with you always. You will need it when you fight against Constantine. But remember, this is a destiny that you do not face alone. I will be with you, as will your family and clan."
Goliath sighed as he placed the shield back in his pouch. "I understand," he said softly.
The Guardian smiled and the dream ended.
********
Goliath woke with a roar, sending stone fragments everywhere and realized with some surprise that he was lying on his back. He immediately caught the smell of cooking soups and breads, heard the laughter of children and the excited talk of adolescent and adult humans alike. Many already stood over him, peering into his grim face with relief and excitement. He stared at them in surprise. He couldn't remember a time when he'd awoken with so many humans hovering over him like anxious mother hens. There might have been a time like it at Castle Wyvern but that was years ago. This was Crystal Moon, the New Atlantis and a completely different situation.
For a moment he almost forgot what it was that brought him here and what had happened the night before.
"Och! He's all right!" one woman cried as she knelt down to brush a hand against his brow. He was three times the size of this tiny old woman and his intimidating appearance should have frightened her off. Instead, she regarded him with the same compassion she would any of her own kind and signed when she found no sign of fever on his thick skinned brow. "No fever. Good. We were worried. We found ye at the base o' this cliff on the lake's shore. We didn't know what had happened tae ye. There was a full two minute delay before ye woke."
He sat up and examined the faces around him more closely. "Ah," he stuttered, not sure what to say. It felt strange with so many people staring at him like this. And those stares . . . it was like they were looking at a celebrity or something?
"I – Thank you for helping me," he finally managed. "But, where am I? And who are all of you?"
He found the eager gaze of a small human child probably no older than three years of age. She smiled shyly at him and then ducked behind her mother's skirt.
Not even a child feared him.
He didn't expect the strange feeling of joy that welled inside him. This was the life he wanted for his clan, for his kind. His people.
Wait. Since when had he started thinking THAT way?
"HONK!!!"
Goliath cried out and jumped to his feet, fully on alert. The strange noise had come from behind him, but what he saw was not nearly what he thought he had expected. What had he expected anyway? Surely not a dragon! Yet a great blue head ending in a sharp beak arched down to sniff at him with a rumbling growl that somehow sounded concerned, or even relieved. He wasn't sure which. He took a mild step back and held still and kept calm as the dragon inspected him. He'd not seen a dragon since . . . well, since he'd seen Skye all those centuries ago.
A few people giggled as they watched the exchange. Obviously they were familiar with this strange beast. He grunted in surprise when the beat licked him on the cheek, its huge slimy tongue leaving a clear mark.
Obviously it wasn't like any of the dragons he was familiar with. More like a tame dog than a sentient being. Or maybe it was sentient, just in a different way?
"Whoa! Falcor!" a voice called from the crowd. Goliath turned as a young man wearing rick violet robes grabbed the dragon's head with an affectionate pat. "Easy, friend. I'm not certain if he's seen another dragon this close before. But we are all glad to see he is safe."
Goliath shook his head. Will this place never cease to surprise me? "Actually, I have seen another dragon at least once in my life time, years ago. He was a good friend."
Falcor nodded and honked softly. The young man blinked at the dragon and then at Goliath. "He says it's true. He says the scent of another dragon is still on you, though years old."
"Does he not speak?" Goliath asked and the young man shook his head.
"Not like other dragons. The Yerlings are social but they are very docile. They communicate telepathically."
Goliath frowned. Wonderful. More telepathy.
Falcor seemed to chuckle at him.
"Are you all right?" an aging man asked as he approached from the fire. "Nancy spoke truthfully; we found you on the shore at the cliff just moments ago. Falcor helped us bring you here seconds before sunset – but you didn't wake till just now. We think you must have endured a fierce struggle. Are we correct in that assumption?"
Goliath growled softly and nodded. "Yes. Constantine had a surprise waiting for me on the island. Fortunately, his efforts were wasted."
A rustle of astonishment rippled through the small crowd.
"Constantine? On our island?" someone gasped.
"And he tried to kill the Guardian!" another cried vehemently.
"All that matters is that you're safe," the gentlemen who'd spoken earlier said over the hum.
"Thank you," said Goliath.
"My name is Duncan, by the way," the gentlemen said and gestured towards the young man and the dragon at his side. "The lad there is Gettele. And the dragon you met all ready, it appears. His name is Falcor." He motioned to everyone around them. "We are Dragon Masters. We live in peace here on Crystal Moon. We are merchants and traders. We live as one unit and the Yerling dragons with us."
Goliath nodded as he looked around to all the gathered people and creatures.
"So, what exactly happened to you last night?" asked Gettele as he came over to sit near Goliath. "Is it true Constantine sent warriors to destroy you?"
"And why so many?" one woman asked fearfully. "I don't think I've ever seen so many dragon men gathered in one place. Especially in an attack against one warrior?"
Goliath growled low in his throat. "I was not alone. My . . . ah, my mother and my mentor Hudson were with me. The dragon men were led by an old enemy whose name is Thailog. He is literally my double. We were separated during the attack and I must locate them."
"They are most certainly looking for you, as well," Duncan observed.
Goliath opened his mouth to agree then closed it and looked at the mountain in surprise. The voices were speaking to him again but this time he recognized Reul's deep baritone and singled it out. He was a little confused at their instruction but he wanted to obey.
"Milord?" asked Gettele and Goliath looked at him in surprise. That had to be the first time any human had granted him such a title. "Is something wrong? Did you hear something?"
"Yes," Goliath replied. "The Guardian is calling to me again. There are others speaking with him but I do not recognize them. They want me to head towards the mountain."
"Ah! The mountain," Gettele said excitedly as he stroked Falcor's neck. "They must want you to go to the Hall of Guardians."
"The Hall of Guardians?" Goliath asked curiously.
Gettele nodded. "It is a spectacular place. You might enjoy it. In fact, if your clan has not found you by now they might know to seek you out there. I know Odomus has often been seen speaking with Guardian Reul through these hills."
Goliath glanced at the mountain. Has he now?
"We can take you there," Duncan told him. "It is a short distance from here."
Goliath nodded. "Thank you."
"Wait a moment," said Duncan. "We've just finished preparing the evening meal. Perhaps we should take a little bit along? I am certain you must be hungry Guardian."
Goliath felt self conscious beneath all the stares but he nodded. "I am actually."
"Good!" Duncan said. "Give us a few moments and we'll prepare you a warm broth and drink."
"Thank you," Goliath bowed to show his gratitude.
"Come with us, Falcor," Gettele said to the dragon. "You've been wanting to take a good long walk for a while now."
The dragon honked/whistled his agreement and glanced eagerly at the mountain. Gettele stroked his neck and smiled while Goliath marveled at the exchange.
"So, you all live together then?" Goliath asked turning to his hosts. "You mentioned earlier that you were merchants of sorts. What do you do? How do things work on this island?"
"Much the same as things in the outside world I'd imagine," said a gentle elderly woman as she poured some tea into a cup. "The merchant trades and talents vary from person to person. I am a seamstress myself, and my son and daughter are learning to become acrobats and painters. They love to entertain and tell stories. They have their father's love for life."
Goliath smiled at that, recalling the Eldest and the Apprentice. "Reminds me of someone I used know," he muttered, then walked over to the fire and sighed as the warmth brushed his flesh. "What are some other trades? Gettele? Duncan? What do you do?"
"I am a poet and play write," Duncan explained proudly as he took out a booklet from his pack and handed it to Goliath. "I have written and sold many and some are quite famous here actually."
Goliath beamed with interest as he read through the many poems in the booklet. "I can see why. These pieces are very well written." He handed the booklet back to Duncan. "Well done."
"I am a sculpture," Gettele replied gleefully as he poured a little soup into three sturdy containers. "Just a short time ago, I finished a commission for the city council. It's a small statue of you in the city square."
"A statue?" Goliath cried in surprise. "Why!?"
Gettele shrugged. "It was to remind the people of why we're here and who it was that will break the curse on the gargoyle race," he replied as he handed Goliath the container of warm stew. "Many here have begun to despair for those on the outside world. But they know there's little they can do and have to put their faith in God."
Goliath was silent for a moment. His thoughts were interrupted as the woman he had spoken to just moments ago handed him a nice warm cup of tea. "Thank you," he said politely and sipped it gingerly. "Mmmm," he purred with delight as the flavors danced on his tongue. "This is delicious. Is it your recipe?"
"My mother's," the woman corrected him with a smile. "This one is a family secret though. My mother taught me the recipe before she passed. It was her best."
"Hudson would love this," Goliath noted with a smile. "Perhaps you might have some packets I can take to him?" He paused. "Except . . . I do not carry money with me. I have never needed to."
The woman smiled. "No need. I'd be glad to give you some tea."
"Thank you."
"Alright, I think we're ready," Duncan announced a moment later.
"We should go now," Gettele added and climbed onto Falcor's back.
Another dragon approached them and Duncan turned to coo and stroke the beast beneath the chin. "Nay, Daniela. You stay here and tend your little ones. I'll not be long."
The large female dragon snorted and brushed Duncan's cheek with her soft muzzle before she waddled off. Goliath stared at the dragon as she settled herself down near two chirping young dragons that begged for their mother's attention. He didn't know how to guess age in these creatures but he supposed they were at least a year old, still young enough to need their mother's care. He looked at Duncan and found him beaming at the good mother. The lives these people have, he thought to himself and smiled. Someday we will have that too.
With a noisy procession, Gettele and Duncan lead Goliath towards the mountain. He vowed silently to return someday and spend more time with these remarkable people and their dragon companions.
The walk to the mountain took longer than Goliath anticipated. He kept his patience by talking with Gettele and Duncan and even with Falcor. He was surprised at how easily the dragon answered his questions and even more surprised when he was able to understand the questions the dragon asked him. It was simple random conversation all around, a rare treat.
I need to spend more time with the clan this way, he thought guiltily.
"Mmmm," he muttered, sipping the hot stew the cooks among the Dragon Masters had prepared and nibbling the buttery bread slices Broadway would have drooled over. "Your cooks have done well. Broadway will want to meet them I am sure."
Gettele glanced at him from Falcor's back. "Who is Broadway, milord? Is he a member of your clan from the outside?"
Goliath nodded. "And a rather good cook himself," he explained after swallowing down more stew. "Did the cooks marinate their meat before adding it to the stew? It has a slightly different flavor than what I am used to. I know Broadway often marinates meat for certain dishes."
"I'm not certain," Gettele admitted. "I just know the meat they buy at market is of high quality. I can only assume they marinate it a little. It does taste wonderful, doesn't it?"
"Mmm," Goliath agreed, his mouth to full to politely reply.
Duncan looked back at them and frowned. His own meal was finished and the canister hung limply at his side. "I only hope the peace we've enjoyed can last now that Constantine is free," he said glumly. "The appearance of the dragon men last night unsettled us. We've prayed that he would never return. Our ancestor's stories of life under his rule were bad enough. For him to try to use that same oppression now is . . . unimaginable!"
"I understand," Goliath growled, thinking of his own parents and the child that was very possibly his older sister. An Elder.
A short while later a cave appeared in the base of the mountain. They'd climbed a good distance already and the excitement of journey's end encompassed them. Falcor stopped at the entrance and looked inside as Gettele climbed down. He was too big to go in. They walked down a long corridor which was oddly reflective. He wondered distantly if the mineral make up was quartz or something to that nature. He vaguely remembered reading something about it a long while ago. After a few minutes they came to a two-way split.
"Turn right," Gettele said. "The actual hall is at least thirty paces in but I've never actually counted."
"What is to the left?" Goliath wondered as he glanced down the other corridor. The hall was oddly dark as opposed to the brilliant corridor to his right.
"I don't know," Gettele answered truthfully. "I think it's blocked off. Possibly from a collapse."
"Ah," Goliath muttered and followed his companions. When they reached the opening to the hall he stopped short and gasped.
The hall was huge and glowed with reflected light. The ceiling was arched, or domed like the interior of a grand cathedral. Several support pillars ran in a circle along the hall's inner wall creating a sort of walkway beyond a brilliant display of statues in the center. A small moat of clear clean water ran around them, probably fed by an underground stream. The whole place felt like a Roman's grand gathering room. It was polished, clean and elaborate. There were unique and beautiful figures and images carved into the walls all the way around and on the parapet above each pillar. The domed ceiling was covered by a mural depicting the battle for Atlantis and the battle against Constantine mixed with other battles and figures he was terribly unfamiliar with.
The statues in the center of the room were all gargoyles. They were so lifelike he swore they'd come to life at any moment. He recognized a few of them. He studied a figure of a gruff and moody looking warrior wearing Greek style armor. The runes on the armor reflected a German upbringing. He was a portly warrior much like Hudson but wore a deeper frown than his old mentor. The figure to the left of the first had the appearance of a peaceful and wise old monk wearing Arabic robes and head dress. He was tall and slender just like the figure his left and in fact, they almost looked identical. This third warrior was clearly Egyptian in both lineage and habit and style of dress. He had the typical 'tubular' beard as he called it and wore the impressive head dress that made every Egyptian in the murals he'd seen in picture books and educational programming look royal and regal. Like the Arabic warrior, the musculature of his body was subtle but the older looking and much 'grumpier' Greek or German warrior, wherever he came from, was laden with muscle.
Are these all my ancestors? He wondered, feeling a strange excitement quiver in his bosom.
He turned to another figure to the right of the warrior wearing Greek armor. He was a little surprised to see it was a female. She wore armor that reflected the warrior to her left but her expression and posture was gentle and wise while at the same time confident and determined, even ruthless when she really had to be. Something in the smirk in her lips reminded him of Odomus.
Speaking of which . . .
He found Odomus to the right and slightly above the female. He was wearing his typical robes but he also wore a light armor over those robes. His stance was the most unique among the gargoyle figures. He was the most optimistic in appearance and his face practically glowed with paternal care and ageless wisdom. Somehow the sight made Goliath proud, even excited. It was a boyish excitement he realized, the same he'd felt as a hatchling and a young warrior every time he heard the old stories. He missed those days.
He looked at each of the warriors and realized with a little surprise that they stood on an incline that slowly rose in a circle towards the ceiling. He was more than a little surprised to see himself and Reul depicted at the top, both of whom wore the most intricate armor of all and took the most 'heroic' – was the word that came to mind – positions. Reul was obviously the lord and hero of old Atlantis, one of the first to become a gargoyle during that terrible age of sorcery, corruption and destruction. Goliath's statue, like Odomus, had an idealistic and determined glare. It was the artist's best depiction of the woes and joys the Guardian of New Atlantis might feel as he faced his journey.
"These are fantastic!" Duncan cried. "I wonder why I never came here before."
"I think people forget it's here," Gettele explained. "I've always enjoyed Odomus's statue the most. He always reminds me of my father. He often wondered if his children could accept him, if he could protect them, or if he'd live long enough to see them grow and have children of their own." He shrugged. "I don't know if that's what the artist was trying to depict, but . . . well, that's what I see."
Goliath regarded him a moment and then looked harder at Odomus's statue. He realized with a pang of guilt that he saw the same thing. It was clear as day; the anxiety of a parent trying to protect a son who might reject him due to 'tradition'. Hadn't he vowed never to do that again after his relationship with Angela had grown stronger?
"Odomus acts as a steward until you are ready to become the Guardian," Duncan explained. "It has not been easy for him."
Goliath sighed and let his wings droop. "No, I can imagine it has not." He glanced around at the other statues again. "These other warriors, who are they?"
"Your ancestors I would assume," Gettele replied. "They've each been a leader and a caretaker in their own way and in their own time, and each has lived a good long life. But none will carry the burden you will in this age, milord. They dealt with humans, naturally, but not the way you will. This is a darker world we live in than it was even one hundred years ago."
"Yet it is so beautiful and full of innocence," Duncan reminded him. "These next years will be a turning point for all our kinds. Whom will we serve; the Lord, or Lucifer and his dark angels?"
Goliath looked at him in surprise. Was this man also religious?
"It all falls to choice," a voice muttered behind them and they turned in surprise to see Odomus standing near the steps, a small smile on his face.
"Odomus . . ." Goliath breathed.
Gettele and Duncan bowed low. "Odomus!"
"You honor us with your presence," Duncan said as they straightened.
Odomus smiled. "Thank you, both of you," he said kindly. "Thank you for guiding my son safely to the Hall."
"It was our pleasure," Gettele said.
Odomus turned to Goliath and the two regarded each other for a long time. Then without words his father reached towards him and tearfully pulled him into an embrace. It was awkward for Goliath but he wouldn't deny an old friend, his father, a joyous reunion.
"My . . . father," Goliath muttered softly as they parted. He was surprised to see tears in his father's eyes.
"Welcome to Crystal Moon," Odomus said, grasping his hand. "Obviously, we would have preferred a calmer reunion . . ."
Goliath harrumphed and Odomus chuckled.
"So," Odomus said as he turned to the statues. "Ye found the Hall of Guardians. Most were never Guardians, but we are descended from the first and each of us were leaders in our own way. Sooo . . ."
Goliath nodded.
"Ye were looking last at Elena, my grandmother," Odomus said. "She made many accomplishments in her day. That's why she's honored here. It's a family tree more than anything."
Ah. I thought so, Goliath thought. He reached out to touch the figure's face. "A – A great grandmother," he muttered, molding the words in his mouth. It was so very human . . . and yet not so human. Gargoyles had once been human too.
"There ye are!" Goliath and the others turned as Hudson and Lady Dragon stepped into the hall. "Ye had us in a right state, lad."
"Hudson!" Goliath called. "You are safe. And . . . mother, you too."
"Yes," Lady Dragon confirmed as she embraced him. He stiffened but didn't draw away. "I am so glad to find you well."
"Nassiah is waiting outside, lad," Odomus informed him. "Come outside and meet your elder sister."
Goliath regarded him. "Then the little one in the journal . . . the Elder from all those years ago . . ."
Odomus nodded. "Yes."
"Then let us go," Gettele said happily. "I've been wanting to say hello for a while now."
Odomus nodded and they left the Hall.
When they reached the cave's exit, Hudson and Goliath's two new friends had been properly introduced. He also noticed a figure standing there waiting for them. It was a female gargoyle just a little shorter than himself. But he recognized her.
"Hello, little brother," said the female fondly, reaching out her hand. "Och! 'Tis good tae see you again. It has been many, many years." She reached up to embrace him and held him tight. When she drew away there were tears in her eyes. He smiled reassuringly. Beside her Falcor rumbled impatiently and she turned to pat his snout with a giggle. "Our friend has been quite eager to see you."
Gettele smiled. "He is a worry wart," he said good-naturedly as he stroked the dragon's scaly neck.
"Was everything alright inside the hall?" Nassiah asked as she wiped her eyes.
"Yes, no invaders fortunately," Lady Dragon said with a relieved sigh. "I do worry about Thailog though. After hearing more about him I fear Constantine's intentions for him."
"As do I," Odomus muttered sadly.
Silence fell. Goliath's fists clenched.
Gettele looked among the warriors and sighed. "Well, I suppose this is where we part ways friends," he said glumly and Falcor's head drooped a little. "We need to return to camp. But it was so good to meet you, Goliath, and you too Hudson."
"Take care of yuirselves, lads," Hudson grunted.
"We will," Duncan said. "Call on us if you need help. We are not practiced warriors but we will stand and fight to defend our home and families."
Falcor roared his eager agreement.
"I hope we meet again," Gettele said, bowing as he turned to Goliath.
"As do I," Goliath said with a smile. "Thank you, both of you, for all your help."
"It was our pleasure," Gettele hopped up on Falcor's back as Duncan accepted the empty stew canister from Goliath and walked beside them. "Good-bye for now friends. Good luck!"
When the Dragon Masters and Falcor had gone, Goliath turned to his family. Odomus smiled and led the way to a small outcropping from which each of them took flight.
"So, what is this city of yuirs like?" Hudson asked at length as they flew through low hanging clouds.
Lady Dragon smiled. "It is beautiful beyond words," she replied. "It was built centuries ago collaboratively."
"You mean humans and gargoyles worked together here?" Goliath asked and she nodded. "It sounds like Japan."
"Japan?" Lady Dragon wondered.
"I'll explain later," Goliath told her with a secretive smile, but couldn't deny the burning hope in his chest. Ishimura had reminded him of where he wanted his kind to be, where they NEEDED to be. Crystal Moon was the same as Ishimura, but on a much larger scale. It was a very promising vision of the future they so desperately needed.
"A lot of the architecture reflects cultures and buildings from different parts of the world," Odomus told them. "Makes a very unique appearance but it is absolutely splendid."
Hudson smiled. "It is good yer people work so well taegether, old friend," he said. "Gives me hope for the future, but . . ." He sighed. "I may not live long enough tae see it like the rest o' ye. I'm not immortal."
Goliath frowned. Sometimes he forgot just how mortal they were and that none of them would be around forever. Well, except his parents and sister, and maybe himself. And what about Angela? Had she inherited his families power as well as their immortality? And just how immortal were they?
Was HE even immortal at all?
"Perhaps not, old friend," Odomus agreed sadly. "But ye will see the work that leads up tae it. At times I dare say it might be discouraging."
"Everything is darkest before the light comes out," Hudson noted. "It will be enough."
Goliath sighed and reached into his pouch. The shield was still there. The Guardian had said to use it in his time of need. He'd seen it used once in his life and wondered what sort of power had been stored inside. He only knew he meant to keep it as the Guardian instructed.
The Guardian.
Only a short while ago they'd spoken in a dreamscape. The revelation that his destiny meant more than battling an ancient evil was still unsettling. He couldn't fathom being a leader of just one clan but ALL the clans. It didn't seem right. And yet the Guardian had said it was a part of his destiny. Gargoyles all over the world would need a leader. But how was that supposed to work?
A shimmer of white granite and marble walls appeared beyond the forest which crested a ridge to the east. Elegant towers and decorative free standing pillars rose from the ground like monolithic works of art. The walls circling the city and covering the buildings within the city glowed with their own light and even reflected the light of other surfaces. There were so many gardens and pools that it was easy to see why the city had gotten its name. The subtle green glow was noticeable enough to make one think from a distance that the stone was green rather than white. But most of the green coloring was at the base of the buildings and not at the top. An in all, everything looked like white crested greenery.
Goliath drew inn a breath at the sight. His eyes fell on a large symbol right over the city gates. It was the same symbol that sat on his brow.
This was truly the Guardian's home.
"Magnificent," breathed Hudson as he gazed wide-eyed at the city.
Odomus grinned. "Wait until ye see the palace," he said as he glided a little faster. Everyone followed him, but Goliath followed just a little slower.
"I see why you call it Emerald City," Hudson mused as they flew closer. "Even at night the reflected green makes the walls look, well, green."
Lady Dragon laughed. "An accident of architecture that simply delighted the people," she explained. "And so the name stuck."
They angled for a landing just outside the huge city gates and Goliath stared at the masterful carvings in the wood, briefly wondering why they'd landed here and not just in the palace itself.
"We've landed here because the people have been anxious to see their Guardian," Lady Dragon said and he looked at her in surprise. "We wouldn't have made such a landing the other night given the urgency of your arrival and the need to plan our assault against Constantine, but . . ."
"The attack last night frightened them a little," Nassiah said. "It frightened us too. This is a way for the people to see that we are not defeated, that the Guardian still lives and that the curse will be broken."
"I understand," Goliath said and waited for the gates to open.
The noise of the city reminded him very strongly of Manhattan. But it was only the buzz of people and voices, the creak of carts and wagons and the sounds of the beasts of burden they used to pull the wagons around. There were no cars, no buses and best of all no smelly fumes. Instead the smells were like old Scotland and it took him home.
As they stepped into the city, the hustle and bustle came to a stand still. Carts and their leaders were guided to the sides of the main street which was twice as wide as a street in Manhattan. Every face within sight or beyond stared in awe as he and his small party stepped onto the cool, soft dirt at their feet. Faces beamed joyously as he came into view. Tears were shed. Children pointed excitedly and garg-beasts wagged their tails happily. It was much different than the time he'd gone to Avalon to help his clan's children. The awe and that strange reverence was there but it was stronger somehow and the general feeling in the air was much more anxious than it had been on Avalon. Constantine was a much bigger threat than the Archmage could ever hope to be and the people here knew it – although he could guess that most of these people would have never heard of his battle on Avalon.
"Why do they stare at me so?" he asked his father quietly.
"Ye're their Guardian, their leader," his father replied. "They've waited for this day for nearly two thousand years. The end is near now, for all of us."
Goliath frowned and looked a head. The end would not come soon enough in his opinion.
When they neared the square a great cheer arose from the people of the city. Somehow Goliath knew this cry was not out of fear but out of joy. It grew louder and louder as he passed through the square and made him even more uncomfortable. Flowers and flower petals fell onto the street decorating his path. He looked into the faces that he passed and a strange, unfamiliar emotion swelled in his bosom. What this he was feeling? Was it pride? Was it joy? Or was it sorrow for his clan in the outside world; sorrow for other clans who might not ever receive such a welcome as boisterous as this one?
He walked on. A feeling of gratitude pressed upon his heart. Just seeing this overwhelming joy and acceptance from both humans and gargoyles turned his hope into determination. His kind would see such peace. He'd give his life for it.
* * * * *
"'Tis very beautiful," Hudson commented a while later as they walked through the palace, following Lady Dragon and Odomus up a large stair well with royal red carpet circling all the way to the top. Large windows escorted them all the way up, providing warmth and light as they ascended. And a few minutes later, they came to large and spacious living quarters somewhere on the up-most floor. And it was spectacular.
"Aye, it is beautiful. All of it," commented Goliath as he stepped into the room and found his way towards the family room where several sofas, a love seat and a rocking chair sat before a brightly burning fire.
"Yes, it – it is a little large, but it is cozy enough," said Lady Dragon as she looked up at the painted ceilings before looking back at Hudson and Goliath. "Oh, please do sit down."
Goliath and Hudson nodded, then sighed gratefully as they both sank into the nearest sofa. It sat right in front of a lightly burning fireplace that spread comfortable warmth throughout the room.
As everyone else sat down around him, Goliath lifted one foot and began to massage it almost unconsciously. The walk through the city had been longer than he'd anticipated. His feet were aching and he had to admit he was tired. Another day of rest would be welcome.
He looked up to see his sister staring at him. "What is it?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "Just thinking . . . and remembering."
Odomus smiled and glanced out the large front room windows. "Ye both look as tired as I feel. I think we'll rest for a while and then begin the necessary training taenight. Ye'll need it in order tae fight against Constantine and survive."
Goliath frowned.
"But we must first slow Constantine down, otherwise everything will be for naught," Lady Dragon told them. "He won't let that little game he played last night be the end of it. We need to hold him back. He cannot be allowed to send forces to the outside world."
Goliath and Hudson looked at each other.
"Your clan will most certainly be able to hold them off, but not without help," Odomus agreed. "They do have help from the Xanatos family and now from other sources, but it would be wise to send warriors to New York and to other clans throughout the world to inform them of the danger and give them the help they need."
Hudson sighed. "They will not be happy about another war. The Unseelie forces nearly decimated many of the existing clans. It will be disastrous if Constantine attacks them now."
"Which is why we will send help," Odomus soothed. "We have warriors fluent in many talents and many languages. They will help these clans."
"Ye said Crystal Moon was cut off from the outside world, man," Hudson reminded his old friend. "How can that be so when ye cannot leave for fear of nay bein' able tae return?"
"Because these languages and skills came to us from the outside world when weary travelers were stranded here by magic and other unknown factors," Nassiah told him. "Many were not always so eager to share their knowledge with us, but over time newcomers learned to adapt and soon a new ethical culture spread over the island." She smiled at them. "The America you now inhabit is not much different, hmmm?"
"Is that how the architecture for the city was built?" Goliath asked.
Odomus shook his head. "Not necessarily. Some architects and designers have used magic to see other parts of the world and find the features of buildings they liked best before implanting them here."
"Ah."
"The only thing that matters is that we are what we are and we have a huge task ahead of us," Lady Dragon told them. "Today rest as you must, but come evening the real work begins. And mark me; we will work as long and as hard as we much until we are fully ready to face Constantine and his forces. And ready we must be."
Goliath looked outside and frowned. Indeed they would have to be ready. But how ready could they be in just a few days when it could take a lifetime to learn all he needed to know? He didn't want to learn it, he wouldn't lie, but he had no other choice. He had only barely gotten by when facing other magical creatures. Compared to Constantine they'd been almost benevolent. Not only that but whatever power he held would be a symbol to other clans who expected proof that the Guardian was indeed among them again. That would also depend on how many clans remembered that bit of their history? It might be that some clans had forgotten all together or intentionally left that bit of history alone. Either way, he'd need everything he could learn or lose face with the clans and suffer a disastrous loss.
A warm breeze swept across the balcony as they made their way to it. Warm sunlight was beginning to poke its nose over the horizon towards the east. Goliath and Hudson watched it with awed fascination. The tingling they usually felt before stone hibernation was slow today. Hudson literally shed a tear when the sun rose over the distant hills.
"I ne'er thought I'd live tae see the day," he muttered.
"It is a most beautiful sight," Odomus agreed peaceably. He turned to Goliath and Hudson as they assumed a pose – a very relaxed one facing the rising sun. "Rest well, my friends. If my guess is right, we'll see ye before dusk taenight."
"Before dusk?" Hudson repeated, and froze where he was as solidified granite.
Lady Dragon chuckled. "This will be a great day for him, at least in regard to the sun."
Odomus nodded. "But the task is still daunting. This will not be easy for any of us."
"We'll make it father," Nassiah soothed as she kissed his cheek. "We always have." She turned from them and went inside. A figure stood at the door waiting for her. "I am going to rest with my family. It has been a long night."
"Rest well, dear," Lady Dragon called and watched her leave. This was the last day of real rest any of them would get for a good long while.
The End.
