The griffin and his two newfound friends had left before the crack of dawn, and they were now witnessing a magnificent sunrise. Flury didn't know if it had been worth it, though; as he and Bolero had had to nearly drag Elda by the scruff of her feathery neck from her repose. She had been very indignant at being awoken so early, claiming that Bolero had said they would be leaving at dawn, and, as she pointed out, it was before dawn. Bolero had simply given of a dragonish air of superior-ness, as if rolling her eyes at Elda.
Flury didn't mind so much their squabbles, but he did mind if they were going to drag him into them. Both had insisted that he had to back them up, and he had gotten through that by mustering as much magic as he could, then slipping away. Of course, the two ladies had insisted on scolding him about it later. None of them felt much like talking, except every fifteen or twenty miles, when Flury and Elda had to take a rest on Bolero's broad back. They were not built for endurance as Lydda was.
As the day dragged on, Flury became hungry, and as he became hungry, he was filled with second thoughts. Did he really need to return to the griffins? Couldn't they have sent Lydda or some other messenger instead? He supposed glumly that they hadn't thought this through enough, but he accepted it. Bolero, though she was his friend, had a way with words in crucial, deciding moments. It also helped that she was ten times his size, wielded the ability to breathe fire, and had an extremely unstable, inexplicable split personality.
As Flury reflected upon it, he admitted grudgingly that teaching at the University, though it was fun, didn't help international diplomacy as much as his sporadic journey did.
The journey dragged on and on, and conversations were sparse and irregular. Bolero, though her flying was supported by magical means, visibly sagged. Both Elda and Flury were becoming salty and irritable, as well as very, very tired. Bolero had decided that she would carry a pouch of food and a barrel of water on her side, but it was a difficult maneuver for two taloned griffins to manage while in midair.
After a few days, each one of them was on the verge of slight insanity, and they were banking on reaching land very soon. At least, they all hoped they would.
Finally, after long last, the coast drew near. It soon swallowed up the sea, and purplish-black mountains became visible on the horizon. There was a large guard tower with a huge flame atop it, and it reminded Flury of nothing so much as the inferno that had raged from Senera's young, but still gigantic jaws. Thinking of dragons, he now felt very ignorant, as if he had only read the first book in a series of thousands about dragons. They were a bit like elves, with otherworldly personalities and a very noticeable presence. Dragons were dangerous to anything, and any dragon could bat Flury aside as if he were an annoying gnat. It was probably quite nasty to swallow a gnat, he reflected, grimacing slightly. Neither of his companions noticed.
He was so indifferent about his outer surroundings, so caught up in his own thoughts that he landed with a few undignified somersaults.
"Are you alright?" Bolero asked raggedly, picking him up in a few ivory claws. He felt like a rag doll.
"I'll live," he croaked, frowning at how salty Bolero smelt.
"You don't smell very good yourself, little cat-bird," replied the dragon, wrinkling her nose. Flury didn't care to know how she had known what he was thinking, as he was too busy staring at Elda (his eyes half closed, of course.)
Elda was sprawled on the sand, looking dull and unkempt, with a mucky tuft of fur for a tail. Flury's own tail wasn't really that nice either, though, so there was no complaining to be done.
"Is there somewhere where we can get cleaned up?" she asked, opening an orange eye accusingly at him. He winced a bit at the headache-inducing and intense eye, but he did spare his thoughts for the question.
"As I recall, this is an area of the coast called Cursora. There's an outpost nearby, but I don't know if the humans, or the rogue griffins for that matter, haven't taken it. I guess it couldn't hurt too much, as we have a dragon on our side, but we'd better be careful."
"Good enough for me." Elda growled in reply, dragging herself to her feet and spreading her wings slightly. "I know it sounds girly, but I can't stand being like this for another moment!"
"I'm used to being dirty," Bolero said absentmindedly, propped up on her back legs, looking at the watchtower. The sun glinted off her scales blindingly.
"Hadn't we better get going?" Flury said, sighing at their caution free attitudes. He spread his wings yet again, and took off with a very large amount of difficulty.
"Not very airworthy, are you Flury?" Bolero chuckled, turning her attention from the tower. He turned his own piercing golden gaze at her and glared, hovering jerkily. This was all her fault anyway.
Elda flapped her wings quickly, but soon discovered that she wasn't getting anywhere. She began powerful, slow flaps, which took her up into the air, even if it was a bit graceless. After the two griffins had gotten far enough toward the small tower, Bolero began her own take off, grinning a very annoying grin at them.
WHOOSH- Flury was interrupted in midair, by something hurtling right past him, and knocking him back with the force of its speed.
"What is that?" Elda screeched at him.
"I don't know!" Flury replied, wasting his breath as the object sped straight back at him. He flopped out of the way, spiraling on one of his muddy wings. The object stopped.
It was a very small, very vicious looking little griffin. It was so small that even a small Flury would have dwarfed it considerably. However, the most startling aspect of the creature was the look in its eyes. The look was not the febrile intelligence of wild animals, nor the direct gaze of a creature capable of speech and complex society. It wasn't like a dragon's superior, otherworldly gaze either. It was cold and empty, the result of some unfathomable circumstance.
"Who are you?" Bolero boomed. The griffin did not answer. "Be that way," Bolero said flicking her claw, with a huge burst of magic that knocked Flury even further. The griffin plummeted to the ground, not even attempting to fight Bolero's magic.
"There's nothing there," Bolero said with wonder and fear.
"What do you mean?" inquired Elda.
"There was no mind to fight me, nor an intellect to control, even to listen to. It was utterly empty, as if it had no soul or spirit. I've never- I've never seen this before." A totally uncharacteristic fear was entering her voice.
"What's so awful about that?" Elda asked irritably.
"How can something exist with nothing there? It's fine for inanimate things: rocks and the like, but for something that can move and make decisions? What sort of thing could have such an unearthly existence?" Bolero was now staring at the clouds moving lazily across the sky. "How?"