Now any traveler you might meet out on the road will be sure to ask at some point where you are going, but I shall not do that…instead I will tell you where I am going for the place has a fairly wonderfully kept story- a legend that goes along with the area. Not many of you may have ever thought to yourself about the city which I speak of…though if I told you I was talking about Gryphon King City you might not be surprised. For the place is rich in magic and rich in history, there are so many stories contained within those walls that many like myself cannot tear themselves away from the place with ease. There is the story of countless wars such as the battle between King Leon and Lord Soren where the fight between their forces lasted for nearly seven years and took place over the exact same patch of land, why there is even the tale of….wait- oh right, of course! I do tend to get a bit ahead of myself…or I forget to speak…well then. My apologies!
The tale I wish to tell is the one about how the city got its name and where the title of Gryphon King truly comes from, what you didn't think old SparklyPants was actually king to all the gryphons did you? And though he may be called king, the only place he truly rules is the city of Gryphon King and loosely at that compared to other kings. The title that the good captain now holds is one that has been passed down for centuries and has earned more and more prestige and stories along the way with every wise man or woman that earns the title of Gryphon King. It is a title that ties its bearer to the city and the city to the bearer, so that one cannot remember the city of Gryphon King without asking oneself at one point or another the question of who is or was the Gryphon King? And likewise one cannot think of the Gryphon King without thinking of the city they protect and rule.
Many years ago, long before our great-grandparents' grandparents were even a thought in the back of their eventual parents' two or perhaps one year old minds- if they were even born at all by this time; there sat a patch of rich, fertile land in the middle of a vast, dry plains. Hundreds upon hundreds of miles encircled this rich oasis where rivers wound and coiled together and trees unlike anything most had seen were merely saplings and young, thin trunked trees. For some reason mobs seemed to avoid the area whether it was because of some dangerous or toxic plant that their kinds were allergic too or perhaps some force within the forest itself that drove the beasts away. More possibly it was the gryphons who share any sentient beings' distaste for the undead and dangerous creatures that stalk through the shadows in the day and under the moon at night.
Having such characteristics about the land- once it was discovered…people quickly flocked to it to build their homes and new lives together in a beautiful place full of mystery and peace. Yet, something was amiss…no one could bring themselves to rip up the forest and put in their fields…no one could stand to build their homes within the forest and clear the land for the building- and those that did…those that fought whatever kept them from harming the forest quickly descended into madness.
At the first purposeful snap of a branch they felt a twinge of sorrow that made them want to sob- at the first stroke of the axe they felt a guilt that nearly doubled them over in pain…by now this was usually enough to stop anyone except those with the hardest of hearts. But those that managed to fell even a single tree in the forest were fine- absolutely fine. They calmly cut the tree into the pieces they needed and then…then they built a coffin- their own coffin. During this process they did not realize what they were doing…but by the end it was usually enough to drive most to the brink of insanity after the legends they had heard about the forest and the twinges of pain they had felt before. In their panic they usually ran as far and as fast as they could- trying to get out of the forest they presumed to be trying to kill them…this was the worst possible thing that they could have ever done. For on the edge of the forest as they sprinted past the tree-line and towards the village it was then that they went berserk- they had claimed nature, had torn it down and killed it…so now nature would claim them.
If they could not learn to respect the forest and respect the life there then they had to be taught…and this is where our story begins.
With every stroke of the axe the teen felt a strange sorrow coursing through him, he fully regretted his actions even before he had stepped into the forest- he had always loved this place. Growing up it had been more a home to him than his own home, or should he call it merely a house or perhaps a place was a lighter term for it when he was no more wanted or better treated there than a roach. His father blamed him for the death of his sister and his mother was long since gone, having died in childbirth with his younger sister who was treated as harshly as he was until she died of the illness that had swept through the village two months ago. He could hardly recall the times in which his father had not been an abusive, mule-headed man that had to have everything his way and fool everyone in town with his kind smiles and good name, along with the wealth he flaunted so boldly. Flint could hardly understand how anyone fell for that expression, how everyone went along with his father when he complained on and on about how Flint was always running off or never working hard enough- they never noticed the bruises, the nearly skeletal frame he possessed at times when he could find nothing to eat. He was merely a sickly child who was likely addled in the brain seeing how he spent so many hours running around Gryphon Forest just asking for trouble.
And now there was absolutely no way that Flint was coming back alive after the task he had been sent to fulfill, not that his father cared about the legends. Or the dead body of a half-tradesman, half-something lying only ten feet away from the forest, the body had been found less than a year ago by a few hunters who had been scoring the land for wild horses to tame, their own mounts growing old in years. It was only then did anyone in the town really start to believe the stories that were passed around the fireplaces late at night at the tavern or around the bonfires on the holidays. It was simple really…his father was trying to kill him- there was no doubt about it- the man had practically tried to take his head off with that enchanted obsidian blade of his before Flint had managed to scramble out the door. Meaning if he came back with the tree he was dead and if he didn't come back with the tree he was dead- regardless of what the forest did to him.
The tree in question was a brilliant thing, leaves that were golden in color and glowed just like glowstone, mages from the nearby villages sometimes came to harvest a few of the leaves among other things; for as long as they didn't take too much from any single tree or plant and were careful of how much they took and for what reasons nothing happened to them. Flint almost hoped the forest would sense his distress and leave him alone- he did not want to do this and the first blow of guilt alone had nearly made him retch as if he had accidentally just killed someone and come to realize it. This tree was one of the smaller ones, one of the newer ones- he had even plucked a few seeds off of it gently and planted them so that more might grow back in this tree's place, hoping that he might be allowed to live. Though he knew in his heart that it wasn't likely- the only reason mages could get by with harvesting supplies from Gryphon Forest was because they could sense how much to take and how much to give back- they understood what the magic of Minecraftia would allow and what it would not allow.
And cutting down a young, healthy tree was something that the forest was not happy about in the slightest. The normally loud call of wild gryphons and birds had gone eerily silent over the last hour or so, and now only the sound of the wind and the cut of his axe into the wood could be heard alongside his own labored breathing. The tree's leaves still glowed fiercely and the tears leaked from his eyes to see it putting up such a fight- but this was a battle that they had both lost, the tree was too injured to live now and at least he might stand a chance if he managed to return home with it. Though that was not likely…but there was nothing he could do but allow himself to be controlled by the fear of his father and take one more swing with the axe as the tree creaked and groaned with one final dying cry.
Flint sobbed as he dropped to his knees the sorrow of this act and the sorrow the magic placed on him throwing him to the ground- thoughts of his kind mother, his sweet sister who never understood and so was lucky never to suffer the brunt of the hatred their father had for his children. He had no one now that he could talk to or laugh with in quiet moments when their father left on business for the day and they got to be themselves instead of the timid little mice that they usually were. He had injured the one place that had ever readily accepted him- had allowed his tyrant of a father to force him to do such a thing when he was more than likely going to die anyways…so this was it. He would much rather be killed by the forest than his father…for he deserved that death- he could at least understand why he had died then and what he had done wrong, though he could not understand why someone would drive him to do such a thing.
As he lay on the cold, hard dirt he heard a vicious growl from deep within the forest which was soon echoed by the others hidden within the shadows- the growl of gryphons was a terrifying thing, something akin to an eagle's screech and a lion's roar so that it would not seem natural to anyone who heard it. Flint knew his end was drawing near and so did the only thing he could possibly do…he ran. Ran as fast as he could and as far as he could as the gryphons howled and screeched in outrage behind him, chasing him- but never outrunning him though they had the power to do so easily enough. And when he burst from the edge of the forest, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes at the fact that he was about to die…he realized that he was beyond the forest…that he was alive somehow…and that the gryphons were still behind him. The lights of Riverview burned bright and welcoming- urging him on…but a thought slowed him a bit and made him think.
He couldn't draw them to the village- in the state the animals were in they would kill anything in their path and people would die because of him. And if people got fearful enough of the gryphons they would send hunting teams into the forest to kill the creatures and then the gryphons and the hunters would die- perhaps hundreds of lives would be lost because he had run from his fate.
And so he stopped…and he waited for the end.
But it never came- instead the creatures trotted up to him and watched him warily as if he was dangerous, as if he was something that they did not know what to think of. One large golden furred beast stepped up to him after a few long minutes and sniffed his fingers, blinking intelligent green eyes at the young man standing fearfully between the forest and his home village.
"Why have you stopped human? Is safety but not a few minutes away?" It asked, but not unkindly- only knowingly and thoughtfully. It did not speak but sang- though there was no noise, no language in which it made itself known and expressed its ideas and thoughts to him. Instead, Flint realized it was magic- magic that allowed the gryphon to make him understand what was wanted.
"Or do you fear for those that have unknowingly done you harm?" The gryphon continued when she got no response from the young human. "The land feels your sorrow- your pain…would you not wish to show these people the pain that they have shown you?"
Flint backed away horrified at the proposition, trembling in fear and wondering what might happen to him if he refused to let these creatures tear into the people he knew and had come to grow familiar with over the years. He detested violence and hate after seeing so much of it in his father- after seeing what it did to a person and he refused to let it happen again…but yet there was fear there…the fear of what would happen if he refused.
"N-no."
"But 'no' to which question, cub? Do you mean to refuse us our right to those that destroy this forest- our home? Do you mean to tell us that you would take their place?"
"Y-y-yes?"
"You do not seem sure, child- I do not think I am making myself clear enough. Would you allow the forest to claim the lives that have brought about the death of the forest or would you take their place and let the forest claim you as one of its own."
"As long as no one but me dies, please!" he pleaded- remembering the librarian who had always looked at him as if he knew that something was wrong with Flint, as if the man suspected Flint was being mistreated but took the boy's word on whether or not he was being ill-used. The baker who always managed to slip him treats now and then when his father seemed especially upset with Flint. The hunters who had taught his sister how to ride horses in the summer and fall before the illness swept in as Flint, who had already learned long ago thanks to the kind hunters rode along beside her. There were so many people that had treated him kindly…so many people that might be horrified to hear about the things his father had done and how he had fooled them all. So many people that had suspected something to be horribly wrong but had said nothing because they didn't want to get Flint hurt worse or to make false accusations when they had no grounds for it. People that had spoken against his father quite a few times when he had been especially hard on Flint in their sight. People that did not deserve to die for his actions.
"For your father's actions." Came the calm, yet sorrowful reply as if the gryphon had been listening in to every thought that passed through his mind. "For you would have never done such a thing unless you were forced to as you have been now…you have been so injured by your father that you do not think and you merely act at his command for to resist would mean pain and possible death. And yet you have no pure hate and rage in you…merely disgust for what hate and rage can do to a being- you do not bring pain to others because you are hurt as so many others do and you do not wish ill on those around you because of your troubles. And that is why you shall live…but taking life must grant life in return, even if it was the life of a plant. For that plant might have saved a hundred beings if it had been allowed to live and grow and there is no guarantee that the seeds from that tree that you planted would have lived to grow in time to save those lives…if at all." The gryphon spoke solemnly, it's eyes glowing with intelligence and wisdom in the light of the rising moon.
"What will happen to me?"
"You may come back to the forest with us…become one of us- or you must die to pay for what you owe." The gryphon howled softly and mournfully as if it was calling helplessly for a lost hatchling even though the body of the poor creature had been found cold and still. "We are not normal gryphons- I and my pack are the few that have lived after taking such a price from the forest, we have lived and so it is our goal to protect and enforce balance within the forest to prevent others from falling to the same fate that so many already have. Not many stop as you did…not many question the safety of their fellows if they keep going…not many have cared about anyone's safety except their own…and until now none that I know of have been driven to take from the forest by someone else." It cried out to him as it paced back and forth in the long grass anxiously.
"If-if I go with you I'll-I'll become one of you?" Flint asked timidly, a spark of hope flaring up in his heart at the idea of never having to face his abusive father again and living on in place that was so much dearer to his heart than the village even with all the kind people living there.
"Yes, if that is what you wish- though many do not fully accept it and so can never make it reality. They wish for things that cannot be. They lust for power or glory- or they make plans to seek ways to return to what they once have been. Minecraftia senses this and though it tries to save those who would protect it and its life…it cannot save those who will not allow themselves to be saved for a person turned to gryphon cannot be human and for a human to turn to gryphon they have to fully accept it- if they do not the transformation is never complete and their body simply does not have the strength to keep them alive." The gryphon explained as Flint listened, noting how he could almost gather what she was saying from the twitch of her nose, her ears, her tail, and her muscles- the way in which she held her wings or caught his eye with one of those piercing emerald gems.
"I-I'll go with you…please…please take me with you." He begged, and so that very night Flint was made part of the pack and by the time the sun rose in the morning a charcoal-grey or perhaps flint-grey gryphon was perched on the top of the church tower as an angry man stormed through town screaming for his 'bastard' son to show himself.
Once the attention of everyone in Riverview had been received by this altogether unusual display of violence and his father for the most part restrained as he threw out accusations and curses at the people he had so cleverly fooled, the people that were just beginning to understand what was going on beneath their noses. Then and only then did that silky furred creature swoop slowly down and onto the streets below, catching the attention of a few of the townspeople as they stared in confusion at the lone gryphon that was so far from the forest that it must have been lost. Its bright golden eyes investigating everything curiously as its ears twitched and its nose worked to pull in all the interesting scents of the place that it had never picked up on before. The young male cat crossed the road and slunk through the empty stalls, investigating its surroundings yet staying oddly confident even when someone approached it- the gryphon even rubbed up against the baker's leg and let out a soft purr as the man stepped back in fear at what the creature might do with those large talons it possessed.
By now a lot of the chatter had been abandoned as the sheriff and a few of his men took Flint's father away to the jail so that they could calm him down and question him thoroughly on exactly what had happened. People milled about idly, watching the gryphon and talking amongst themselves as they tried to make sense of what was going on. The gryphon paid them no mind- merely sat and watched one of the hunters' horses and batted playfully at its tail as the old mare nickered good humoredly and only switched the tail back and forth more often since the cub did not insist on pulling on the hairs as the jeweler's cat had taken to doing. After a while the big animal simply leapt on the mare's back and flopped itself over the saddle, of course this caused quite a stir and the hunters nearly kicked the gryphon off of the horse for the fear of what the creature might do…until they saw that it had fallen fast asleep already despite the noise.
Flint was having quite a time with all of this, the fake snores he let out were just enough to confuse everyone and keep him from being shoved off the horse- at least someone remembered him enough to not be afraid of him. Perhaps it was because his scent was similar or perhaps even the same to what it had been when he was a human- thus, the old mare sensed it was him and knew that he would do her no harm.
For weeks Flint kept up his antics, amusing those in the town and becoming the absolute bane of his father's existence as he had so generously already been called- now he was living up to it- he knocked the flower pots off the windowsills, dug up the garden, and opened the door to the horses' stalls and then the pasture as well. He even went so far as to parade around the town leading his father's best war horse by a chewed off lead down the road and back as people stopped, stared, and laughed. He never did enough to cause much damage- and never did anything that was unrepairable. Clay pots were cheap and idiotically easy to make even to the newest craftsman- the garden had held only weeds and the few wildflowers that had managed to grow in it from the start when Flint was not there to do the work for his father, and he always watched the horses to make sure they didn't stray farther than they could be caught. He was sure to pull some other harmless mischief on the others in town as well- making it amusing enough that people felt no ill will towards him and then trying to make up for the pranks he pulled.
He had never had so much fun, and it was so funny to watch his father scream and curse when he could not let his frustrations out on anyone or anything without being caught- it was good to see people knowing him for what he was and Flint even heard people say that the gryphon must be his father's dead son giving back some of the chaos that had been dealt him. Which was absolutely true. Flint and his sister had often joked about what it would be like to tear down the drying clothes when the ground was wet and muddied so that their father was the one that had to do it when they were away at school- theorizing on what it might be like if they were not held responsible for the mess. And now Flint did just that and what was even better was the fact that he was never caught in the act of doing most of these things. Yet his father always ranted and raved about the 'damn' gryphon stealing his horses and knocking the flowerpots off the windows.
But that was only how Flint filled a miniscule amount of his free-time.
The young gryphon took to watching out for the travelers as they came and went, making sure that they minded their manners and were not harmed coming to the village or leaving it by mobs, bandits, or whatever threats presented themselves. Years passed and a whole book could've been written about the things the gryphon did as he matured- he stopped several robberies, chased away several visitors intent on cutting down trees and even bringing the kindest and most well-meaning seeds from the very trees they'd tried to cut down in return for the harsh treatment he'd shown them, he saved children, and herded escaped farm animals back to their pens. He even supported the weight of an injured hunting dog and saw it all the way back to town and to its owners' doorstep. Flint warned of fires and led hunters and travelers to safety in the harshest of weather, leaped in the path of bears to save other creatures and more than the once-young creature would have thought possible.
By now Flint led the pack of gryphons that had once been humans and it was often that the villagers were not greeted by Flint alone when they opened up their shops for the morning or rang the church bells to signal the beginning of the service on Sunday mornings. It became unusual when those glowing golden eyes were the only set carefully keeping watch over the citizens of the town. And so it was not long before people began to refer to Flint by the name King or such titles as the King of the Gryphons or more plainly…the Gryphon King.
As the years went by, Flint and his pack protected the forest and the nearby town that was rapidly growing into something more than a town but not yet quite a city. Flint's father died quite suddenly in another round of the illness that swept through the town every now and then taking a few from the town's numbers and the townspeople were quite stunned when they felt only relief at the old man's death along with a trace of sorrow and guilt. It was not long after this though, that trouble began brewing in Minecraftia.
You see the same war that built up the nether fortresses was about to begin and the Gryphon King would not go without playing his part in this great struggle. A powerful sorcerer by the name of Citrine had sensed what the gryphons guarding the town of Riverview really were and had made it a point to visit the forest every time he passed through to talk to the gryphons living within it since he found them interesting company- if not a bit mischievous under their leader who was an ace prankster by this point in time.
Citrine warned Flint of the coming war, and immediately the gryphons began to prepare themselves and the forest for the onslaught- Gryphon Forest as it was called then, held more resources than many would know what to do with if the forest was captured and the town of Riverview lay between it and the approaching armies. The kings of Minecraftia wanted to take the forest to be used as resources and the armies of the opposing forces wanted to see it burn because it was in a sense a symbol of Minecraftia itself if they could not take the resources from the place and use them to their advantage. Flint and the more than two hundred gryphons that stood behind him were directly in-between the Minecraftian kings' march to claim the land as their own.
To allow the people to strip the forest of resources was to let innocent people die- people that had not yet even been born. To allow the forest to burn was an even worse fate. Everything that they had worked for would be destroyed if they did not and could not act. And so this was when things began to change.
As the kings rode towards Riverview to work out agreements with the officials of the town every single last gryphon under Flint's command and many that were not settled onto the rooftops of the homes and businesses. And as the kings and their entourage rode into the town stunned by the gryphons that clung to the church tower, sprawled across the balconies, even sat on the backs of horses and slept at the feet of the storekeepers something began to happen just as Flint himself landed in front of the first horses and spread his wings wide.
In a flash of light where there had once been an adult gryphon scarred by years of battles and service to the people of Riverview there was now a winged man with a thick head of jet-black hair and a long, long lion's tail. Flint immediately yelped in fear and began to look himself over as Citrine who had been standing nearby to see the outcome of all of this began to laugh and laugh at the sight of his friend standing in fine clothes with a strong diamond sword on his hip so unexpectedly…the magic of Minecraftia certainly worked in odd ways.
"I suppose you…you are the Gryphon King we hear of- the beast that protects the inhabitants of this area?" The strongest of the kings asked carefully, puzzled and awed by the appearance of such strong magic that had just been displayed before his eyes. It was clear to this king that Flint had not had any part in his new appearance and neither did the sorcerer for the rate at which he was laughing, though the king did not doubt that Citrine had not seen this outcome approaching.
"Y-yes sir, I am- though I must say I have not held a form like this one in a long, long time…since I was a child…I-I don't know what has caused this- forgive me if I have startled you, sirs." Flint apologized as best as he could
"It is because you are meant to defend this town and the forest, cat! And you cannot do that very well without armor and a voice that Minecraftians can understand!" Citrine laughed in reply, taking another bite of the apple he had gotten for his breakfast. "And to protect this town and this forest, you must go farther than protecting just this town and this forest alone! You must help protect Minecraftia as a whole!" the sorcerer called back to him, fully enjoying his friend's puzzled expression.
"I-If the legends are true- that there is magic in this forest more than we understand…I-I don't think it wise to tempt it no matter how much we need the supplies to keep our soldiers alive, sir." One of the other kings spoke up softly after regaining his wits at seeing a gryphon turn into a human-like form.
"The forest is intended to save lives- but if you take too much the price will be too much to pay…you only have to understand before you take that you give back first- what is not, might never be and so there is no certainty- no payment. You cannot steal an apple from a shopkeeper and pay him later as much as you cannot cut down a tree in the forest without first planting one that is old enough and healthy enough to reach the size of the one you are taking." Flint tried to explain. "We want to help, but we do not want our home destroyed…for the wrath of nature is great and we would not want anyone to be separated from those we love like some of us have been." He went on as the kings listened intently to what the man had to say.
"Then by all rights we will speak with you, your people, and the people of this town until we can work out a way to pay nature back for what we will take- because if that is what must be done to prevent more men and women from dying in the line duty then it is a step that must be taken."
"I am glad to hear this, sirs- this meeting has gone far better than I hoped." Flint replied.
It was not long before Flint and his people were helping supply the Minecraftians with ingredients for potions and materials for weapons and armor. It was not long before they too were flying over the battlefields alongside half-dragons, sprinting through forests and cutting down any enemies in their paths. And it was not long before the war was over and the gryphons were returning home to an intact Riverview.
Years passed and the town grew and grew- the gryphons who were long-lived watched over it and guarded the city with intelligent gazes and ears twitching in humor as their tales swept across the new walls that had been built around the area during the war to make it harder on enemies trying to destroy Gryphon King Forest as it was now called. Somewhere down the line the names were reversed and the last of the gryphons that had once been humans died out…leaving their fully human counterparts to continue the legacy. To prevent people from destroying the forest and allowing people to unknowingly injure and even kill themselves by taking from one of the places where Minecraftia's magic runs the strongest. No one knows exactly what happened to Flint or if his tale is even real, no one knows quite when the fortress that resides in the midst of Riverview Park was made or how it was created without causing the deaths of so many. But there are stories…
But those stories are unfortunately for another time, for it is late now and I would like to rest before the morning comes- so off to bed with the lot of you there will be time in the morning for more tales and then more if we happen to be traveling in the same direction.
A/N: Citrine is actually the name of a type of yellow, amber, or orangish colored quartz- thought that was a bit of an interesting fact to throw out there. And hey I managed to get a story up on time for once. True it is 10:30 or so, but it's up on time with all of the homework that college has bombarded me with so soon after coming back after the winter break...but oh well- it is what it is...expect the next chapter of Heroes Bleed Red sometime next week, probably around Thursday. Hope you enjoyed this and sorry it might feel a bit short on details in places I think I'm about to fall asleep and split my head open on my keyboard...so I'm gonna go watch some youtube and try and think up what will be in the next few chapters...and also HYPE FOR MINIATE SEASON TWO!
- YOU CAN'T TAME WHAT'S UNTAMEABLE! NO ONE WILL STOP THE HYPE!
-Sincerely your friend, RealityBreaker.