All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of "Alex Checnkov."

The Avignon University presented here is not meant in any way to represent the Universite D'Avignon and any similarities are coincidental.

New Horizons: Arrival, Part II
Alex Checnkov

Jacob had barely gotten the sheets on his bed before he crashed, his body not at all accustomed to the pressures of transoceanic travel. It was a dreamless sleep as even his brain was too tired to make any effort to conjure dreams.

Wearing only his shirt and boxer shorts, he might very well have continued to sleep through the rest of the day and into the night, but a knocking at his door stirred him awake. "Come in," he said into his pillow.

The person at his door knocked again.

He turned over and repeated himself, "Come in." Then, remembering where he was, said, "Entrez."

Jacob rolled over on his back and sat up to face the door and the person entering. In stepped a male, by his sleep-impaired guess at least a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter than him, with long brown hair tied back into a pony tail and pasty white skin. "Monsieur Goldberg?"

"Oui," he said, sitting up to greet his guest.

"I am Pierre Dumont, one of your schoolmates," he said with a broad smile and hand extended.

Jacob sat up in bed, took his hand and replied, "Jacob Goldberg, it's good to meet you."

"I came here to bring you to a late lunch. Our other human friends have arrived and we thought we should get to know each other before the session starts. But, since I am sure you have traveled a long way, I can understand if you would like to continue to sleep."

"No," Jacob replied, "it would be good to meet them before school starts. Just give me a moment to wake up."

"Of course."

Jacob moved to the edge of the bed and, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, asked, "So, where are you from?"

"I am from Avignon."

"Oh yeah? So do you get to stay at home?"

"No, I must live on campus. It is required. Even the representative of the Avignon clan must live here."

Jacob stood, grabbed his discarded pants from the edge of the bed and donned them. "That must be strange having to be that close to home and not be allowed to live there."

"Yes, but I think it will be a good thing."

"We can hope." Jacob slipped into his shoes and said, "Okay, let's go meet the others."

They left the dormitory for the courtyard between Constantine and Urban halls that hugged the cliff's edge. Assembled around a pair of benches that looked out over the Rhone were the other eight human students, engaged in light conversation, who acknowledged Jacob and Pierre with waves and various greetings.

"I have found the last of us," Pierre said as they approached the group.

The first of his classmates Jacob met was a woman about his age, shorter than him but taller than Pierre, well figured with dark hair and deeply tanned. "Aitana Moraes-Ribeiro, from Brazil," she said with a hint of her native accent.

"Jacob Goldberg, Nebraska. Glad to meet you," he replied and, upon shaking her hand, found that like Sophie her smooth figure disguised her true strength.

"Mai Ling," introduced herself next with a delicate handshake. "I am from China." She was fair skinned, thin, had long black hair and was almost a full foot shorter than Jacob.

Jacob felt a hand on his left shoulder and turned, finding himself looking into a pair of dark eyes set into an equally dark face. The male was on par with Jacob by apparent weight and muscle mass, but also like Jacob his menacing figure was broken by a broad smile. "Imaran Kedlaya, Sindhustan," he said while shaking Jacob's hand, his French deeply accented by his native tongue. "It is good to meet you."

"Same here," Jacob replied.

Standing next to Imaran was another male, a few inches shorter and noticeably older than either him or Jacob yet with an overall physique comparable to either of them. "Loren Duceppe, Canada," he said.

"Oh yeah? Where? I have a cousin living in Vancouver."

"Other side of the country. I'm from Montreal."

"Ah."

Jacob returned his attention to the benches and the remaining classmates. Wearing a red hijab and clothing noticeably more modest than the others, a woman a few inches shorter than him stood briefly to introduce herself. "Shamara al-Khiam, from Lebanon."

"Happy to meet you."

Remaining seated and reaching over the back of the bench to shake his hand, blonde and athletic-looking, the next classmate introduced herself, "Sylvie Noel."

"From?"

"Paris."

Standing beside Sylvie was a dark skinned and black haired male, also the shortest of the group. Though he must have been around Jacob's age, the sun had clearly taken its toll on his skin, aging him by perhaps a decade. It wasn't a second after Sylvie had released Jacob's hand than he grabbed it. "Paz Manuel, I am from Chile," he said almost without expression.

"Good to meet you."

When Jacob was able to free his hand from Paz's grip, a deeply tanned woman with waist-long black hair standing next to Paz extended her hand. "Osyka Humma, Choctaw Nation."

"Choctaw? In the Oklahoma Territories, right?"

Though she gave a slight laugh, her smile faded and she said, "What you call the land is your business, but it is not your country's 'territory,' it is my nation."

A silence fell over the group as Jacob let her hand go to scratch the back of his neck. Loren coughed and said, "Now that we are all introduced and the first faux pas has been committed, how about we go find something to eat?"

Pierre led the group to a sidewalk café not more than a few blocks from the campus, still inside the old city walls and where the tops of the palace's towers were still plainly visible.

Most of the ice-breaking conversation had been typical topics – family, occupations and the like – and for the most part Jacob found his new classmates to be amiable. But, as it was expected to do, the conversation turned to one important topic. "Pourquoi sommes-nous ici?" Imaran asked. "Are we all very brave or very stupid?"

"If you asked the gargoyles back home," Loren said, "and my parents, they would say both." The others laughed and nodded, all having heard the same thing themselves at some point over the last two years.

When the laughter settled down, Loren continued, "I was at a movie about two years ago with my girlfriend, some Hollywood crap – oh, yes, 'Thermopylae.' Did anybody else see that junk?"

"Yes, it was horrible," Imaran said with a laugh. "But please, get on with the story."

"Right. So, I'm there with my girlfriend of the time and sitting behind us are two unbelievably annoying gargoyles. They're making all kinds of stupid jokes, saying humans could never have fought off that many soldiers for that long, that the Spartans must have been gargoyles, and so on.

"While the movie was entertaining in the way a train wreck is, I was getting really bothered by those two. Then they got on the subject about how humans were being let into Avignon and how we could never match up; so, I turned right around and said, 'When I come back from there, I'm going to show you how I learned to tie knots in gargoyle tails if you don't shut up.'"

The others laughed and Jacob said, "I would be nervous for you, but you're sitting here so things must have worked out."

"I don't think a human had ever talked trashed them before," Loren said with a smile. "They shut right up they were so stunned. Of course, I spent the rest of the movie being scared that at any moment a row of talons was going to come across my neck, so I had to go back in a week to see it for real.

"But worse than having to sit through that movie again, my girlfriend was so impressed that I had both shut up two gargoyles and applied to the school that she went and told everyone, and I mean everyone. So, in order to not be a liar, I actually applied. Now here I am."

"You're here because of a girl you're no longer with and because you trash talked some gargoyles?" Jacob asked.

Loren took a sip of his coffee and said, "Pretty much. That and I was bored with studying mechanical engineering and physics. I thought this would be a good change of pace."

"You are aware that the school specializes in engineering, yes?" Imaran asked.

"Yeah, but we also become masters in martial arts. That was not part of my degree program in Montreal, I assure you." After finishing off his coffee he asked, "What about you, Imaran? It was your question."

"That is true. There are gargoyles all over the mountains near my home, and I am friends with many of them. When this opportunity came, it felt like something I had to do, so I could understand the ways of my friends better."

"I am like him," Mai said. "My father is a teacher to the gargoyles near my home, like his father and grandfather were. When we heard that this school it would admit humans, my father told me that I should come here to be taught by gargoyles, to see what we could learn from them."

She smiled, "He said it like he knew I would get in from the beginning, but I suppose he was right."

"Sorry to change the conversation, but I'm curious," Jacob said. "Did all of you grow up around gargoyles?" The others exchanged glances of curiosity, as though they could not understand the question, before looking back at him and nodding. "Oh."

"Did you not?" Osyka asked.

"No. There aren't any gargoyles in Nebraska."

"Then why did you come here?" Sylvie asked.

Jacob took a moment to think about his answer then said, "I first saw gargoyles when I was nine, and from there I was, I don't know how to say it in French - spellbound.

"I spent the next few years trying to learn as much about them as possible, talking about them at every chance I could get. If I wasn't an athlete, I know I would have been cast aside as a nerd. When this school opened its doors to us, everybody told me I should apply – not that I needed convincing.

"Once the competitions started and I kept winning, I realized this was something I really should be doing; I felt that I should be here. So I kept at it, and here I am."

"So when was the next time you saw gargoyles? When you asked a clan leader for a recommendation?" Loren asked.

"No, it was on one of the flights I took yesterday."

"Then how were you recommended?" Pierre asked.

"I wasn't – not by a gargoyle anyway. The form said that letter was optional for humans." The others groaned in almost near unison before starting up on how they almost were reduced to begging for recommendations from gargoyle leaders.

Jacob held up a hand to interrupt them, "I still had to get letters from just about everyone else in my life, but I wasn't going to drive three-hundred miles to a gargoyle I had never met for an optional letter, especially when more and more gargoyle clans were turning against our coming here. I didn't like the thought of walking up to a clan home, asking for a letter from an irritable gargoyle and getting split in half."

"Yet you came to a school where there might be hundreds of gargoyles who want to do just that to you. Why would you take that risk?" Sylvie asked.

Jacob shrugged and said, "You did, too. File us under brave and stupid."

He bid farewell to Pierre and headed towards his room as sunset approached. Jacob hurried up the stairs, for while the others might have been accustomed to seeing and hearing gargoyles wake up, he was eager to see it for the first time.

Jacob found his room key, opened the door and walked to the wall directly opposite of his roommate's perch. Looking east, he could not see the sun itself set, but he watched as the sky grew ever darker.

He knew the moment of sunset came when the skin on the gargoyle before him began to crack. The process was slow at first, but it was not long before Jacob could hear a distinct growl and, as the creature stirred, the flakes of stone fell away. The gargoyle burst through the shell with a roar, enhanced by the cries of hundreds of other gargoyles in the city and at the school as they awoke. When his roar subsided, the gargoyle yawned and stretched before brushing off lingering flakes of skin and turning around.

The pictures seemed lacking as preparation for the gargoyle's likeness. He was not as tall as he knew gargoyle males could be, just a few inches over Jacob, but he was far more muscular. Well scarred on his arms and legs, he was simply clothed, wearing a hide vest, untied to expose his chest, and a set of loincloths; the forward cloth was square-cut, blood red with a yellow border, the other cloth was longer, set behind the first, similarly cut and silver with a red border.

It was not a moment after the gargoyle turned that their eyes met and locked. Jacob's eyes betrayed trepidation while the gargoyle's assessed him, like any predator determining if he was a threat by the subtleties of his stance, motions and expression.

The gargoyle spoke first. "You are to live with me?" he asked with a scratched, deep voice.

"Yes," he replied, choking back a fear that was rising in him as the gargoyle's stare penetrated him.

Jacob heard a growl and saw the lips of the gargoyle begin to curl back while a faint glow overtook his eyes, and it occurred to Jacob to plan a quick escape and find the person responsible for roommate assignments.

But escape was not necessary as the face-off ended as soon as it started. The gargoyle smiled, approached him with hand extended and said, "I am Malach, from the North Valley Clan of the Shenandoah."

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief, and took his hand, "Jacob Goldberg, from Saint Paul of Nebraska. You gave me a start."

Malach laughed, "I am sorry, but when the school contacted me to ask if I would live with a human, I said wanted a strong human. I had to see if you were what I asked for."

"What would you have done if I ran away?"

Malach shrugged. "I did not think you would. Have you had the opportunity to look around, my friend of the daytime?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Then let me introduce you to some friends before we have to be registered."

They stepped out into the hall and Malach knocked on the door of their neighbors. "C'est Malach, des amis!"

A moment later a beaked, long-horned female answered the door. She was shorter than Jacob by a good measure and the color of thistle with deep red hair; and on a second pass of the female, Jacob saw that the pair of long horns which grew back from her brow flanked a pair of smaller horns. Her strength was apparent, though no comparison to Malach.

From behind her another female came to the door. She barely stood above Jacob's waist, and, unlike all the gargoyles he had seen to this point, her wings were webbed between her arms and legs. Her skin was aquamarine, her hair cobalt and her tail ended with four spikes.

Malach indicated the taller female, "Our friend here comes from Venezuela, and she from Nepal." He placed an arm around Jacob's shoulder, "And from Nebraska is our human resident, Jacob."

"Hello," the two females said to Jacob.

"Nice to meet you," he replied. "But Malach skipped on your names, so…"

The Venezuelan smiled and interrupted, "Our clans have kept to the old tradition of not restricting us with names."

"Ah. So, what am I supposed to call you when you're not around for reference?"

She put her hand over her heart, "We've known each other for not a minute and already you plot behind my back? I'm hurt, human!"

"I don't mean badly! I mean just in general conversation." The female's smile broadened as he became defensive and, not wanting to stick his foot in his mouth any further, he abandoned the point. "Forget it. I'm sorry."

"Malach, you have much work ahead to bring him under our wings," she said.

"I enjoy challenges," he replied.

She laughed, "And it will be a great one! In the meantime, Jacob, you may call me your 'beaked friend across the hall' if you must."

"I am the only one here from my particular humans' nation," the other female said, also visibly amused by the exchange from moments ago. "That should be enough for a name."

"I have many more friends to introduce him to before registration," Malach said, "so we will see you later tonight."

"Certainly," the Venezuelan replied. "It was good meeting you, Jacob."

"Same here. Je vous verrai plus tard," he said as Malach led him off.

Once Malach and Jacob were several flights down the stairwell, Malach said, "You seemed surprised by our friends."

"Well, for one I hadn't expected to be living on a floor with females, and the no names thing got me. I thought that was just an old custom."

Malach chuckled, "You need to abandon many of your human conventions, friend. You are among gargoyles now. We are all raised together, male and female. It is not like how you humans raise your children. And receiving names is not as old a custom for us as you might think. Humans provide names for my nation because it is not likely that we would do it ourselves."

"Well, that's why I'm here – to learn these things."

"Stay under my wing, friend," Malach said confidently. "I will make you the greatest tailless, wingless and clawless gargoyle that ever lived."

The gargoyle leaned on the railing and looked down into the nave. When he spotted the human and gargoyle walking among the crowd, he summoned his friend. "Would you look at that?"

His friend from the Laurentian Mountains, much shorter and leaner than he was, came to his side and saw what had his attention. He snorted, "Already has a guardian."

"All the humans do. The school paired each of them up with a willing gargoyle. They say it's to make the humans get used to life with gargoyles, but really it was for their protection."

"So how are we to proceed, Sloane?"

Grey-skinned with white hair and tall even by gargoyle standards, Sloane was easily among the most imposing of the students at the school. He was never shy about using, or threatening to use, his strength to make a point.

His friend, unnamed as per the gargoyles' traditions, did not have Sloane's physical presence, but he was not weak by any standard. Crimson and bald, eight spikes along his brow, he had met Sloane long before either of them applied to Avignon at a rally to free gargoyles from human meddling.

Though both gargoyles could have had a seat at the school on their own merits, their shared society had gone to great lengths to make sure that they were accepted to Avignon once it became known that humans would attend.

"Carefully, friend," Sloane replied. "It must be the case that the humans attack us; we would be fools to look like the aggressors."

"And how are we going to accomplish that? They're not here to attack gargoyles."

"That is i exactly /i why they are here. Maybe not physically – not yet – but the conspirators saw that we were getting too strong for their liking, and this school was their primary target for our undoing."

"If they hear of gargoyles attacking humans, their actions will be justified," his friend warned. "Perhaps we should find allies first, before we make plans."

"No. With so few of us at this place, the walls will have many unfriendly ears, and word of a plot against the humans will embolden the conspirators. If we have allies, they will find us."

The gargoyles watched the human interact with the gargoyles below, eventually causing Sloane to growl. "Look at him, at them. You would think all the crimes of the past never happened."

"You would think that," his friend agreed.

"We must make the humans fight each other. They are not like gargoyles, they don't understand what it means share bonds beyond blood." He looked at his friend, "Did you know they fight over the tone of their skin? Imagine if red gargoyles decided to fight blue gargoyles, how stupid that would be."

"At least they can tell the difference between them," his friend replied. "All humans almost look the same to me."

"They act the same, too, which is why it should not be a hard thing to create division among them." Sloane looked back to the scene below. "Do you know which human that is?"

"The American, the non-indigenous one. I don't know his name, though."

"And the gargoyle?"

"His markings are for an Appalachian warrior, and only the Shenandoah are so brazen with their displays of rank."

Sloane nodded. "We have our work cut out for us, it seems. But tonight is busy, and we have six years to drive out the humans. We will plot later."

Though his friend walked away, Sloane stayed to observe the human for a moment longer. While Jacob was engaged in conversation, Malach's instincts warned him he was being watched by unfriendly eyes, so he turned to spot his adversary. Sloane sneered and left in the same direction as his friend, and Malach stood closer to his human charge.

The students had collected in the gymnasium, a room at the heart of the palace. Unlike other rooms of the old complex, the gym was well-lit and updated to modern standards. The limestone walls were hidden behind modern materials and equipment and the floor was treated hardwood.

A mix of gargoyle and human administrators directed the students through the painstaking process of signing forms, collecting books for the first classes and receiving their uniforms.

At the end of the registration process, the more than three hundred students waited in lines for their turn to step onto scales and find out to what fighting class they would be assigned. Sophie, standing in the middle of one of the lines, looked over the gym uniform the school had made for her. The uniform was simple: a white robe and leggings, both lightweight, though the fabric was tough enough to withstand the brutality of gargoyle combat. At least for a while.

On the right sleeve of the robe were two badges, one to represent the flag of her nation – a banner Sable, an Or gargoyle displayed addextré of the emblem of the Netherlands rampant guardant, another Or gargoyle displayed senestré to the emblem rampant guardant – above the familiar flag of her humans' nation – a banner Gules, five bars Argent, the canton Azure charged with forty-eight mullets Argent. The left sleeve was barren, awaiting the addition of the badge of her assigned class.

With almost half the student body nameless, heraldry was all too important, despite each gargoyle being unique in his or her own form.

The female in front of her, about her height and build, tan skinned and black haired, aquatic-like ears, turned around and asked, "Is it true that we stay in the same combat class all six years?"

Sophie looked up from her inspection and nodded.

"But what if one gains, say, seven stones over the course of the year? By the time of the Competition, they'd have too great an advantage!"

"I think if anyone should gain seven stones in a year, they'd be too tired from gaining weight to do much fighting."

The female smiled, "Too true." She extended her hand, "Camila."

She shook her hand, "Sophie. Where are you from?"

"Brazil, Rio de Janeiro. And you?"

"New Amsterdam."

Camila whistled. "An impressive place to be from! I feel like I am in the presence of royalty."

Sophie raised her brow, "Royalty?"

"The clans of your nation practically control our world, friend! The president of the United Clans, New Amsterdam; the owners of our television channels, New Amsterdam; Katrien, loved by gargoyle and human alike, New Amsterdam."

She offered a short, embarrassed laugh. "I guess I look past that," she said. "The president is my leader and Katrien is my hatching sister."

Camila smiled. "I can see how you might be blinded to my perception. Just make sure that when you join their ranks you remember your friends here."

Sophie laughed, "Of course."

"So, what class do you think you will be in?"

"Unless my scale at home lied, or the school changed its system, I should be a Class Two."

Camila looked her over, "I think you are right. Perhaps we will be paired together in training."

"You never know."

Interrupting their and the many side conversations among the students, administrators bellowed in French and English, "Step onto the scale, give your name and or nation, receive your assignment and go to that class' area! Class areas are designated on the walls! Once all classes have assembled, proceed as a class to the auditorium! The faster this happens, the faster we all get to eat."

-----

Jacob stood in front of Malach in their line. Running their scale was a short, yellow female gargoyle with red hair, who wasted little time processing the students as they approached the scale.

"Sept pierres, classe une," she said moments after a short female gargoyle, who identified herself as being from Morocco, stepped on the scale.

Once she left for her section, a tall, impossibly muscled male stepped onto the scale. "Sloane, Canada."

"Vingt et une moitié pierres, classe cinq."

"Stones still get me," Malach said.

Jacob turned around. "Pardon?"

"When my clan joined the gargoyle nations, we had to change our measurements to the metric system in order to trade. We had been on the American system for all my life before then, it's been hard to make the change."

"It can't be that bad."

"Oh? If it's so easy, why hasn't your country made the transition?" he said, brow raised and with a grin.

Jacob chuckled, "I take it back."

A few gargoyles later Jacob stepped towards the scale before the female stopped him. "You and the other humans are in your own class. You will not need to be weighed."

"What? How come?" he asked, surprised and upset.

She stared at him blank-faced for a moment before she raised her brow. "Are you joking? You are here to live with us, not be killed by us. Step aside, please."

Not wanting to hold up the line, Jacob stepped aside but continued his inquiry. "I thought part of the experience of living with gargoyles was to train with them, too."

The female ignored him for a moment as Malach stepped on the scale, "Malach, Shenandoah Nation," he said.

"Sixteen stones, class four," the female replied. She turned her attention back to Jacob, "And you will train alongside gargoyles, but you will not fight us directly."

Before Jacob could press further, a male gargoyle from further back in his line said, "If you insist on it, human, I'll fight you!" The gargoyles in the immediate area laughed, and others "volunteered" their talents to train with Jacob.

The female beside him pursed her lips and let out a sharp whistle that quieted the students immediately. She looked at Jacob, "If it concerns you so much, take it up with the high chancellor later. In the meantime, join your fellow humans and let me get back to this."

Jacob might have been inclined to keep up the fight had Malach not put an arm around his shoulder and led him away. Once out of earshot of the other gargoyles Malach said, "I can understand that you want to prove yourself, but there are some fights that are just foolish. A gargoyle of your weight would murder you without becoming short of breath."

"But it's not fair that we're getting separated."

"Nature is not always fair, friend, and Nature has made it so that you humans are not as skilled or as fierce warriors as us gargoyles. Perhaps in time the leaders will change their minds and let you in on our contests, but for now let it be."

Jacob frowned and saw where his fellow humans were collecting, each looking similarly displeased. He said as he walked away, "I'm fighting a gargoyle before I leave here, I promise you."

Malach sighed and replied quietly, "I fear just that."

The auditorium was impressive. Like the rest of the building, it was exposed limestone, and it was set up like an ancient amphitheater with the rows of seats arranged in semicircles, and the stage was just the stone floor. Though the students had entered from doors near the upper row of seats, there were two other doors to the room on the sides of the stage.

Along the walls were long tapestries of prior chancellors of the school and leaders of the Avignon clan, and on the back wall to the stage were two large portraits, one of Pope Urban the Fifth and the other of the gargoyle Constantine the Great, the two figures responsible for the university's creation. The pope's likeness was of a gentle person, even as old age had set in at the time he had sat down for the portrait. Constantine, however, was stern, his dark blue face betraying little emotion.

With all the gargoyles assembled in this one place, Jacob got a much greater sense of their diversity as a species. All colors were represented in their skin, they had a wide variety of brow, horn and wing configurations, all to say nothing of their stature, and even a number of more animal-formed gargoyles were present – some appeared more avian, serpentine and even aquatic than the other gargoyles.

But as curious as Jacob was by the gargoyles, it did not take much deduction to tell that the gargoyles were just as interested in him and the other human students; virtually all their eyes and whispers were directed towards them, and it did not help that they had all been seated together. Worse, they were in the front row, and Jacob could feel the stares of the gargoyles behind him, though he would not dare turn around.

Loren, seated next to Jacob, said quietly, "If ever you feel uncomfortable again, just remember this moment."

"You'd think they wouldn't make it so obvious," Jacob replied. "It's like they're trying to make an example out of us."

Some minutes later an imposing male gargoyle entered the room from a side door to the stage and said boldly, "Levez-vous pour le chancelier Constantine!"

The students stood and from the same door walked in a grey gargoyle with similarly colored hair, only vestiges of its original brown remaining, assisted by a cane. He inhaled the last of a cigar and discarded the stub into a trashcan before walking onto the stage. The male guard took up post by the doorway as another gargoyle, this one female, short with skin the color of fired brick and lavender hair, entered and sat in a chair by the back wall.

The chancellor stood at the center of the stage and, after a moment, motioned for the students to sit. As he spoke, the female in the back translated into English, "You are, without question, the greatest gargoyles of your generation. All of you. There are more than one hundred sixty thousand gargoyles of your generation, one hundred thousand applied to this school, and of them there are the three hundred six of you here tonight. This number is no accident."

The old gargoyle began to pace, the click of his cane against the stone floor accenting his footfalls, "For the first time in the more than five hundred years of this university, we have at least one gargoyle for every human nation where gargoyles exist, and one gargoyle for every gargoyle nation that exists.

"You are all our race's future leaders as well. Every student who has come here has gone home to be leaders of their clans, and almost every member of the United Clans was a student here. The gargoyle world looks up to you now, and they will look up to you forever."

Constantine stopped pacing at the center of the stage, tapped his cane against the side of his foot a few times and smiled, "But, I am sure you knew these things, and I am sure that is what least interests you tonight. Because this session is host to another first for the university." He held his hand out to Jacob and his friends, "We have humans."

The students began to whisper among themselves, a few growled and others gave the humans uninviting glares. Above the chatter Constantine said, "Mister Goldberg, if you would come forward."

Jacob's stomach and heart changed places and the gargoyles quieted, all now focused on him. He hesitated to stand, so Constantine beckoned him to come with his hand. Jacob looked over to the other human students and their confused expressions gave him little comfort. So he stood, walked to the center of the stage and faced the other students.

"Young Jacob here represents much of humanity," Constantine said, pointing at him with his cane. "He knows that we live, but he himself has not had the privilege to live alongside us. And, like most humans, he is a rather pitiful creature…" the gargoyle students laughed and cheered while the humans sank into further discomfort. Jacob got the feeling that he was on trial, indeed being made an example of humanity's faults.

Constantine held up a hand to silence the students and finished, "Compared to us gargoyles. But though you laugh and revel in humankind's apparent inferiority to our kind, you forget that they, not us, have ownership of this world. Why?"

The students exchanged bewildered looks and muttered speculations, but after some time a male seated among the class five gargoyles, the group of the toughest males at the school, called out, "Because they breed like sewer rats!"

More laughter from the students, and even Constantine broke a smile. He let the laughter carry on for longer than before and die out on its own. He turned to the male student, "True, humans have more freedom to breed than we do, as we are tied to the rhythms of the planet; however, in the time of my rookery parents and elders, human growth was almost the same if not less than that of our kind, yet even then they were the dominant species of the world. Other reasons?"

A female called out from the students, "Because they murdered us in our sleep by the thousands!"

Less revelry from the students than before, a smattering of growls and angry whispers, and while Jacob maintained a straight face he thought for the first time that perhaps coming to Avignon was a mistake.

Constantine quieted the group again. "Yes, our numbers were reduced greatly by humankind, but it was only possible because the humans were exercising their superiority. Come now, how did the lowly human rise above the gargoyle to commit those atrocities?"

Silence. The old gargoyle sighed and began to circle Jacob, speaking to the students but keeping his eyes fixed on him. "They have no claws, no fangs, weak muscles, thin skin and can succumb to organisms that escape even our keen eyes. But for all our strengths over them, we could not stop humanity's ascension. How did this vulnerable creature come to dominate our world?"

"They make things," a female said.

"Do not gargoyles make 'things?'"

"Yes, but humans do it better than we can; and they make machines to do it better than they can. They also, um, adapt better than we can."

"Ah!" Constantine said emphatically, stepping towards the students. "Humans observe, learn, adapt and survive much faster than gargoyles. Their numbers shrink, so they find ways to boost their fertility, while we cannot. The elements penetrate their skin, so they make layers for themselves, build great structures, and even remake the very climate they live in, whereas the gargoyle will be content to live with what nature provides – for better or for worse.

"When this world becomes too little for humanity, they will learn how to escape it; they have already built camps on the moon – the moon, young ones! – to fuel their industry, and have left their devices on Mars. Would we have glided to the moon if left to our own devices? Would we ever dream to do such a thing?"

Constantine returned to Jacob and placed a hand on his head, "The human mind, students, is the greatest thing in all of nature, greater than all the strengths of gargoyles combined, and it is what they used to become our superiors."

He released Jacob and stepped towards the back wall. He looked at the portraits, "My ancestor, the founder of modern gargoyle ways, knew this. He knew that we had to adapt like the humans in order to survive. And so my forebear asked Pope Urban to help him build a place where all gargoyles could learn from humans, to rebuild themselves and reclaim their lost glory."

The chancellor turned around, "And that is the purpose of this university. Thanks to this institution's legacy, you can now learn modern things from educated gargoyles, learn about our kind's contributions to this world and all that we have left to give. With each generation that passes through here we recover ourselves from the days of darkness."

He stepped towards the students. "I know many of you believe that because the mission of this university is to teach gargoyles gargoyle things the humans have no place here. But I guarantee you that the humans will learn faster than you, adapt to our ways better than you can imagine and will prove to you that they are worth your respect; and, in turn, it is your mission to prove to them, and to humanity, that gargoyles are more than an animals they can claim dominion over and that we are realizing our place in this world.

"Then, with mutual respect and a common understanding of the ways of the world, perhaps generations in years to come will no longer know a division between our races and come know humans and gargoyles as neighbors, not competitors for dominance."

The students were silent, and Constantine turned to Jacob, "You may return to your seat." Jacob did not hesitate to leave the stage.

"Now," Constantine said once Jacob sat down, resuming his pacing, "by coming to this school, you have joined my clan. You are now my children as much as are my children, brothers and sisters to each other as much as they are, and join a family that is worldwide.

"In this clan, we do not punish, but for the gravest offenses; we reward greatness. You will not be asked to leave if your ability to learn is not immediately that of your peers; you will not be shunned if in combat you do not prove to be as great a warrior as you think you are. We will build you into a greater gargoyle, no matter what the cost or effort, and you will be rewarded for your progress.

"Each time you return to your native clans and families, you will be better. You will be elevated in their sight and you will accomplish great things. That is what we will do for you. In return, all we ask is your loyalty, and your dedication to our mission and your improvement. As we teach you the things of science and the arts, teach us the ways of your clan so that we might all understand better what it means to be a gargoyle and what kind of world we should create for ourselves."

Constantine stopped at the center of the stage and smiled. "The problem with exhortations is that they go on for too long. It has been a long night for you, I am sure, and so I will stop talking. Go and feast, become acquainted with your new brothers and sisters – even your human ones – for the rest of this night. Our bold mission will begin tomorrow."

To be concluded