Frostwing Academy | ONC 2024

2 - The Gryphon

Dean Yoren's office is located at the top of a tower, in the northernmost quarter of the academy. My feet, clad in thin, fashionable slippers, ache with cold the whole way from the tower, through a series of wide stone halls, until we pop out of a side door. Cold mountain air whips down from the peaks and I clutch the travel cloak I brought with me tightly around my shoulders. Children wrapped in fur and leather uniforms jostle past us carrying satchels and books. I ignore the stares, but their whispers carry back to me on the wind.

"Who is she?"

"Who gave her those shoes?"

"I heard that she's a new student."

"Her? She's too old!"

Old! I'm seventeen, for saints' sake!

"This way, Miss Montrose," Dean Yoren says, gesturing towards a large courtyard. The giant mountain peak rises behind a series of stone and wood apartments, each with a large terrace and landing platform on the top floor. Clothes dance in the sharp breeze, strung up between poles on the left side of each terrace. On the right, a heavy canvas flap covers the entrance to—

A ripple of movement from one of the terraces stops me in the middle of the courtyard; I'm frozen in place as a lean black and grey creature emerges from behind the canvas. Chilling mountain air whips past its powerful body, stirring the feathers that cover its front end. The gryphon clacks its sharp black beak and flexes long, gleaming claws; grey-barred wings flutter against its sides as a grey-tufted leonine tail sways in the wind. Turning slightly, it fastens the canvas to the wall and steps onto the platform. My breath hitches in my chest as the beast spreads its long, thin wings and leaps into the air with a powerful push from its muscular feline hindquarters. The heavy beat of feathers drowns out the eternal mountain song until the gryphon banks sharply and flies off into parts unknown.

Breathe, Herleva, I tell myself, pressing a hand to my throat. A cold shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature dances along my spine.

When my heart rate slows, I find Dean Yoren regarding me with a thoughtful expression. "Do the gryphons frighten you, Miss Montrose?"

I freeze, my mind swiftly untangling the many layers beneath the question. Do they frighten me? Of course they do! Who would not fear for their lives in front of monstrous chimaeras with the head, wings, and forequarters of raptors and the tail end of great cats?

But to admit such before the dean would spell ruin and doom my chances of ever getting my family back on its feet.

I school my features carefully and tell him, "I do not have time to be afraid, Dean Yoren."

Dean Yoren lifts a shaggy eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by my bravado. But he turns and continues walking towards a low building on the far end of the courtyard. This structure is only one story tall with a barn-like sliding door instead of canvas covering the entrance. I hang back as he approaches the door and pulls a bell cord hanging on the left.

There's a shout, followed by loud banging, then the door slides open. A massive, dark red head pokes out as another shout rocks the quarters. Dazzling green eyes narrow and the head quickly retreats.

"POL! ENOUGH!"

Dean Yoren takes a step back as the door slams open, rocking on its hinges. A giant red gryphon the size of a draft horse emerges, followed by a white one half its size dragging a second red beast by the forearm.

"Do not disgrace this clan any further with your fledgling antics, Pol!" the big red one growls in a rolling accent, its tone strongly male.

My heart begins to race anew as the last gryphon's sky-blue eyes pierce my soul from across the courtyard. I know stubbornness and defiance when I see it.