Wonderland Ch. 04

The male Gargoyle standing next to the Drul shifted in response, his body angling in front of the creature. Talon took note of this, surprised by the protectiveness and possession the angle obviously displayed.

"That would be me," the pale-skinned Gargoyle spoke up, sounding young and despite his bravado, frightened. Talon studied the male, not surprised when he could not place the Gargoyle with a clan.

"My mate said you wished to speak with me." Talon caught the wide-eyed stare and gasp of the youngest fledgling, his human form giving way to his Gargoyle one when their eyes met. "So here I am."

Connor nodded and gestured for him to sit. "Yes, we would like that. Take a seat. Have you eaten?"

Talon fought a smile as he lowered himself onto an overturned tree, his eyes looking over the makeshift camp. From the sight of things, they had been here in the forest for a while. Maybe they were partly responsible for his return yesterday? Maybe Tempest hadn't been the only factor in his return, as he had thought.

On second thought, though, he doubted it.

"No, I have not," Talon answered quietly, noticing the females were sitting huddled together, the silver-hair especially frightened. It wasn't possible for him to look less frightening -- he was what he was -- but he did not like the look to her personally. She appeared wild and cornered like an abused animal. It set both his beast and his human tendencies on edge, furthering the impossibility for him to settle.

Connor approached with the leg of a boar, handing it to Talon before sitting a few feet from him. Talon had surmised earlier that this impure blood was the leader, especially since he had the gall to approach Tempest in such a manner, so Talon wasn't surprised at the way the others deferred to the strangely pale Gargoyle, their eyes going back and forth between the two.

"Join me," Talon told the others, gesturing for them to eat as well. They were silent as they each stood and cut their own slices, following human habits instead of Gargoyle ones. Talon ate only after they did, unable to not notice at how the meat was cooked and the skin seasoned. It was not his usual way, but evidently theirs.

Talon felt his heart sink as he studied his brethren, surmising easily that the situation he found himself in was much direr than he had previously believed. Due to their pollution and their way of life among the humans, their instincts and temperaments reflected their upbringing. Would he have to assimilate the same way? Would Tempest expect him to remain hidden forever? It was not the Gargoyle way to be hidden.

"Tempest mentioned that you work for the Elders," Talon said quietly, breaking the silence. The group stopped chewing and looked to Connor, who seemed prepared for the talk.

Connor nodded in agreement. "We go out and find other Gargoyles or any species we can, actually," he replied. "We bring them back to the Elders who then put them with their appropriate clan or with someone who could take them in."

Talon waited patiently, his heart and stomach sinking further in unison as he read Connor's expression.

"You're the first Ancient we've found. That anyone has found, actually."

Talon dropped their gaze, refusing to show how badly the other Gargoyle's admission had wounded him.

I am the last one now, Talon thought. Father's last request had been for...nothing.

"What of the Elders?" Talon asked once he found control over his emotions. "Are they not Ancient?"

"They're pretty old," Connor admitted. "But none of them are Ancient."

"Or pure, I'd imagine," Talon said bitterly, releasing a heavy sigh. He put aside his boar, no longer hungry.

"After the Great Battle, there were few of us left." Talon glanced around the fire and locked eyes with the brown-eyed enigma, watching as she pulled nervously at the end of her silver braid. "The eldest of those who remained decreed that for survival, mates must be taken. Bloodlines and purity were the least of their worries."

"Ursula was born of an Aar'an and a Quan," said the blue-haired female in a voice void of emotion. "I was born three-quarters Aar'an and a quarter G'woc. All of us are mixed blood. None of the pure bloodlines survived the Great Battle, at least, we didn't think anyone did."

The six of them turned to Talon, all expecting answers to questions that Talon was sure he didn't have.

"Did no one see who broke the line at the end?" Talon asked hoarsely, his emotions getting the best of him. "Does no one know who betrayed us?"

"Some say it was the Druls," said the Drul male, his throaty voice tickling Talon's senses. "Some say it was the Lunar clan of Riordan. Some say the Gargoyle clans in the mountains broke and let the Raspans pass." His amber eyes lifted up and speared Talon, reminding him that he was not the only one who lost loved ones. In that moment, the Drul didn't appear as young as the human form he had taken.

"My many times great-grandfather was in the Great Battle," the Drul continued. "I grew up with stories of how he bravely fell, of how he used his magic for good and peace." Amber eyes turned inward with the memory. "It was said he fought alongside the Ancients of all our races. There are songs in his name amongst my people." His eyes cleared and he gave Talon a small smile. "But none of the songs or stories mentions the end of the Battle. We just know it ended and that ever since, we have done what we can to survive."

Talon turned his eyes to the fire, worry and anger plaguing him.

No one knew the answers to his questions. Not even the Elders, since they were not close to his age. Gargoyles live long lengths of time, but they are not immortal. Surely those who decreed rules after the war were not still alive today.

"What of the Raspans?" Talon asked quietly. "What has become of them?"

"They live," said the flame-haired Gargoyle. "In mountains, in the deserts deep under the sand...they still outnumber by the thousands."

"And the Lunar? The Druls?"

"They are even fewer in number than Gargoyles," the Drul responded. "After the war, many of the Lunar went into the mountains and never came back. So much death...their race could never live with such unbalance. If they are alive, they must live in the wilderness where no one can find them."

Talon did not mention that even if the Gargoyles and Druls of this age went looking for them, their lackluster senses wouldn't be able to trace them anyhow. It seemed a moot point to mention after all this.

"Why do the Elders send children out to do their work?" Talon asked the fire, speaking to everyone. "I ask this, because it is so unlike the Elders of my age. Normally we were not so withdrawn from our own people. Normally, we were not so frightened."

The group tensed and shifted uncomfortably at the accusation, unsure of how to respond. Even Connor and his Drul seemed hesitant to give an answer.

"They say it is our job to find those who are lost and it is the Elders job to protect the flock," piped up the youngest Gargoyle. "It is a great honor to find Raspan dens or Gargoyle covens, which we do. Seth is the best tracker there is, that's how we got here."

Talon eyed the redhead, Seth, unable to stop a smile from crossing his face. "The Ca'an were always the best trackers. I would often go with them on hunts simply to watch them perform their craft. What drew you here?"

Seth flushed as red as his hair. "I always follow threads of magic. It depends on how strong the pull of the magic is if I decide to follow it. The thread here was the strongest I'd ever picked up." He shrugged. "And I'm only half Ca'an. Full-bloods can track their prey endlessly. I have to rest after a couple of days."

"What about you?" the Drul asked Talon, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What clan are you from?"

Talon's wings ruffled, the only tick that showed his astonishment. In his youth, no one had asked his clan. His bloodline had been revered; never questioned about their loyalties or the history of their blood. It was known.

"I am of the clan Tze'hoc. I am called Tze'sic," Talon responded stiffly, turning his eyes to look at the flames. The group blinked in surprise at one another, trying to place his clan name. That wounded his pride immensely. His very honor was attached to his name and clan, and apparently a clan that they didn't even know. The dilution of the blood had rendered his origins almost a myth.

Talon couldn't help but feel relieved that he had not bore witness to the atrocities committed after the Great Battle. If he had seen his brethren's fall with his very own eyes...he couldn't even finish the thought.

"What is your Human name?" Connor asked quietly, breaking through Talon's internal anguish.

"Talon," he responded after a while.

"Will you go with us to meet the Elders?" the youngest Gargoyle asked. Talon lifted his eyes to the boy and watched as the blue-haired girl shushed him and the boy, chastised, fell silent.

"What is your name?" Talon asked him.

"Elijah," the boy chirped immediately, his blue eyes brightening. "My parents were from Tayo'c. That means you're my family," Elijah said matter-of-factly, his wide blue eyes challenging Talon to say otherwise.

"Well, Elijah, I have never said no to family," he chuckled, laughing as the young one raced around the fire and tackled him, his tiny arms clinging to Talon's neck.

"But I cannot leave my mate behind," he told the others, gently ruffling the fledgling's hair, much to Elijah's irritation.

"Take her with!" Elijah pouted as he patted down his hair. "We have to go back, and if I have to share a tent with her, I will."

Talon smiled at the young Gargoyle's enthusiasm, but told him it wasn't that simple. "Tempest is not Gargoyle," he said gently. "She goes to school and she has a family here. I do not even know where I would be taking her."

"To Queensland," the Drul interjected. "It's in the mountains."

Queensland. Talon sifted through the memories he inherited from Tempest and found what he was looking for: images of vast discordant rings of towering snow-tipped peaks that yielded a never-ending series of small valleys in between stamped themselves on the backs of his eyelids. The images continued further revealing thick forest, abundant wildlife, and numerous major and minor rivers that funneled melted snow downstream into a large lake. The mountains were garnered impassable in the winter, and much of the area surrounding the mountains was considered a national preserve. The Elders had chosen their spot well.

"That is not too far of a flight from here," Talon eyed the others, his heart sinking as he looked at their Gargoyle forms. "Or is that not how you pass through to the mountains?" he asked tentatively.

The Drul gave Connor a sympathetic smile before turning to Talon. "None of us here have the ability," he said, confirming Talon's observation in an apologetic tone. "Not many Gargoyles are born with wings nowadays."

Further impurity and dissolution, Talon thought to himself. He just merely nodded, his expression blank. "So you walk?"

The group nodded sheepishly.

Talon sighed. "I will have to discuss this with my mate." He stood up stiffly, not used to such primeval comforts of the camp, not since before he was frozen. "I will speak with you tomorrow."

"Would you like for me to help you blend in with Tempest?" called the Drul.

Talon turned away from the forest quickly, his dark eyes flashing with warning at the Drul's blatant disregard of title to his mate. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly, watching the Drul closely and with a bit of wariness. His father had taught him to never trust a Drul, and he would not start doing so now.

"Connor is able to go to school because I bewitched him with a human form. It's a pretty easy spell...if you want I can do the same for you," the Drul offered, lowering his eyes submissively. Unlike the others in the camp, he was well-versed on how to address a Gargoyle. Talon kept note of that.

Walking back to the group, Talon's curiosity got the best of him. "Let me see your human form," he told Connor, wanting to confirm the image he had seen in Tempest's memories.

Connor flushed at that, unused to being commanded, but stood up anyway and almost instantly his body trembling and cracking beneath the magic. Soon a nude human male stood in front of him.

Talon nodded slowly. "That is a neat trick. But I refuse to accept your magic."

"What do you mean?" the Drul exclaimed in shock. "You can't protect Tempest during the day! Not looking like you do!"

Talon growled in further warning, his fierce expression causing the group to take a step back. "I am a Gargoyle," he grumbled. "I will not use parlor tricks and hide shamefully beneath a skin that is not my own. I will protect my mate with the body I was given. I will not change who I am."

"You're being stubborn," Connor called to him.

Talon grunted in response, pushing through the undergrowth, tears clouding his vision. Anger, dismay, disgust, betrayal...a million emotions warred within him as he hastily tore at the forest as he hiked back to Tempest, his rage growing within him the more he thought.

They were weak.

They were decadent.

They were hiding; morphing into the enemy.

It was...unheard of.

It was...unthinkable.

Talon emerged from the forest an hour later, his skin scratched raw from the brambles, his wings sore from hitting low-lying branches. One of his big toe claws was worn down to a nub from tripping over a thick, water-logged root. But he was finally at his sanctuary, his mate within distance.

Talon did not bother to shy away from the lights of the back porch. He didn't even think to strip from his loin cloth as he sunk into the pool for a brief dip, hissing at the chemicals that stung his cuts.

He emerged some time later, dropping his cloth into the hamper with the rest of Tempest's clothes before sensing out his mate. She was waiting upstairs, he could smell her, and the low, slow thud of her heartbeat told Talon she was still asleep. All the better.

Talon walked into her bedroom and shut the door behind him softly, not wanting to disturb her. She was curled up in a ball with a pillow pressed to her chest, her long curls splayed out behind her. She was snoring softly and didn't awake as Talon approached her. Talon smiled despite the bitter ache in his chest and gently pried the pillow from her grip, crawling up beside her on the bed. Tempest turned into his body without hesitation, his name escaping her lips in a soft murmur.

With a sigh he turned out her lamp light and tucked his wing over her, his tail winding around her left ankle. Despite his weariness, his rest was slow in coming, and his dreams were plagued with images of new world order run entirely by Raspans in human form.

The Greyhound bus rolled to a stop at the Wonderland Metro Station around one that Wednesday morning, emitting its single passenger onto the platform. After a few seconds of indecision, the passenger tilted his head and exposed his face to the starless sky, sniffing the air once -- twice -- and a third time for good measure, ignoring the indignant looks of the gathered metro bus drivers and the ladies working the ticket booth.

With a smile he hitched his pack further up on his shoulder and walked away from the brightly lit station, aware of the stares that bore holes through his leather jacket as he retreated. He didn't stop walking until he was at the corner of two streets marked by rows of industrial buildings. Now that he was away from the smells of gasoline, sour trash, and stale remnants of tobacco, the scent he had been searching for was clearer to follow.

Changing his direction again, he followed the thread towards the city park. Anticipation rose within him as he picked up his pace, licking his dry thin lips excitedly as his mouth watered in response. His orders had been simple: follow the pack's trail and watch them until they revealed something useful, report back on the findings. Oh, and don't get caught. Easy enough.

He was drawn deep into the forest, no longer using the scents he discovered but the palpitations of the pack's heartbeats as his guide. After discovering the flickers of fire between the trees, he adjusted his satchel and relaxed the hold of the Drul spell over him, allowing his fingers to morph into claws. He kicked off the ground noiselessly and jumped high into the air, digging his claws and fingers into the rough bark of the pine tree. Within seconds he was overlooking the pack's campsite, reclined comfortably on a canopy of branches high above their heads.

He smiled to himself as the pack turned to bed for the night, his ink black eyes roaming over the campsite and his sensitive ears pricked for movement. But all was silent.

The Raspan chuckled softly before helping himself to his pack of jerky as he waited. Thanks to his last assignment he now had an abundant supply of fine, unseasoned strips of pure Aar'an Gargoyle and according to reports an Aar'an female traveled with this pack. He checked his jerky stash and smiled. He didn't really need to replenish, but he was not one to miss out on opportunities such as this.

He chuckled again as he settled in for the night as well. His job, despite its simplicity, had the best perks.

+++

Remember to vote, comment, and/or send feedback. I love hearing from you guys! ;)