Gryphendale: Chapter 1
“If there is a door it must have led to something,” thought the young woman as she examined the solitary structure in a small opening of the forest. The oak leaves on the forest floor crunched under her tennis shoes as she walked around the ancient stone platform upon which the large double doors stood. She searched the ground for a building foundation or path that gave the doors a purpose, but nothing else was there. She proceeded to examine the nine foot tall doors. The doors were held up by a green marble door frame engraved with patterns of blowing leaves, flying creatures, and fairies. The woman couldn’t find any indication that the marble door frame had been attached to any other structure.
“How strange!” she muttered to herself, “perhaps it’s a monument.” The doors themselves were a dark wood trimmed in gold. The panels were engraved with a medieval styled gryphon. The door handles were also gold and above the golden handles, the doors were barred with a heavy wooden beam. The woman struggled to remove the beam from the gold holders and tried to pull on the door handles. The doors were firmly locked.
The woman walked around to the opposite side of the doors. The back of the doors had no handles. Instead, a colorful mural depicting an epic battle filled the smooth surface of both doors. The warriors in the battle consisted of a variety of mythological creatures and humans. In the foreground, almost life-sized were depicted two men face-to-face in combat. One was a human male with dark hair and a sword. The other was a moth-winged man with light hair, pointed ears, and fire coming from his hands. Diagonally at their feet lay a dark-haired woman with pointed ears and a mortal wound to her abdomen. Her face looked peaceful as though she had been sleeping. Above all this chaos, was painted a flying blue gryphon staring straight at the viewer.
The woman was studying this art piece when the doors began to rattle and creak. Just as she looked around the corner of the door frame to see who might be playing with the handles on the front side, the doors flew open inches from her face, forcing her to jump back. She rushed around the open doors to the front to see who opened them, but she only caught a glimpse of a blue tail and back foot of a large feline disappearing through the doorway. The woman darted around the structure back to where she had been before the rattling and was shocked to find that the doors with the mural on them were still closed.
“Are there two sets of doors?” she asked herself. She returned to the front with the open doors and looked directly in. She could see through the doorway to the trees on the other side. The woman then walked around again to the back. The smoothly painted doors were still closed with the same mural she had observed before. She continued around. The front of the doors were open so she could see through. After completing this circle a third time, she stopped and stared through the opening.
“It must be an optical illusion,” she thought to herself. She reached out her right hand and walked towards the opening to touch it. Her hand went through as though nothing was there. Suddenly, a force shoved her from behind, and she stumbled through the doorway landing on her knees. The sting of the fall on her hands reverberated through her like the hollow sound of wind through an empty cave, sweeping away her memories. For an instant, she started to look back, but the sight of the blue feline tail disappearing into the brush took hold of her attention.
“Hey wait!” she shouted. She decided to go after it and see what it was, forgetting anything about the doors she had just gone through.
She took off in a sprint toward the forest edge where the creature had entered the brush. The sun sat low in the sky causing visibility to rapidly diminish. She ran wildly to keep up with the sound of the creature somewhere close in front of her. The woods were increasingly dense and dark as she followed the sound. After some time of fighting through the brush, she found herself drained of energy and short of breath.
“Stop! I can’t keep up. Who are you?” she gasped. The closing branches around her entangled her reddish hair as she rushed by. Her clothes felt heavier as she tired. She tripped over her own feet and splashed into the muddy ground. “Dadgummit!” she shouted in anger. Now she was lost, too. There was no way she would be able to catch up to noise, now distant in the far brush. She pushed herself up and wiped the mud off herself trousers. Her clothes had become much too big, and her shoes had grown three sizes too large. She looked down at her hands. They had transformed into soft, round, child-like hands. The girl felt panic welling up inside of her. How did she get here? She could not remember. Who was she chasing? She did not know. Why was she chasing it? Who was she? Where did she come from? She could not remember anything at all from before running into the forest. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“If anyone is out there, I give up. I’m ready to go home.”
No one responded.
She walked over to a nearby oak and plopped down under it. Then she wept, feeling helpless and alone. She could do nothing to fix her situation. Even if she could get out of this forest, she didn’t know where to go.
The girl stopped crying as she got an idea. She searched her pockets. She found a set of keys, some gum, a pocket knife, a cell phone with a dead battery, and a little money. She also discovered a picture, and in the darkness, she was still able to see the person in it. The black and white photo was a beautiful light-haired lady with rich, dark eyes. Her thin face was perfectly framed by her long hair and she was laughing cheerfully.
The girl studied the picture closely in the darkness. No writing was on it, and there was nothing to indicate the identity of the lady in the picture or when it was taken. She carefully folded it back up and placed it in her jean jacket pocket with the rest of her stuff.
Just at that moment, the girl heard the rustling again. The wind then blew through the branches as though following the creature in the brush. A voice on the wind spoke, “Don’t be afraid. I am with you.” The voice faded away as the wind died down. The girl heard the creature begin moving through the forest, once again just out of sight.
“Wait. I’m coming with you,” the girl shouted after it. She jumped up to follow it. This time her clothes were so baggy that she had to hold up her jeans so she could hobble forward. After a few yards, she stopped, took off her shoes, and rolled up her jeans before proceeding. The creature seemed to be barely moving forward as though it was waiting for her.
“Thank you. I’m ready to follow now,” she shouted to it. She progressed slowly through the dense brush. Even though she was certain that she was following the creature, she was astonished to notice that its passage through the brush left no bent branches or trampled ground. It did not struggle like she did.
She ducked under the last branch and emerged into a clearing. As she looked up, she gasped at the landscape before her. The clear night sky glittered with stars like diamonds on a black velvet gown. A huge moon the size of a giant porcelain plate barely touched the horizon. At the base of the moon, a hilly forest stretched into the distance. A misty lake which began a few yards in front of her mirrored the moon and night sky. Everything was an eerie pale green in the lake’s glassy surface.
A high pitched wail pierced the silent night revere. The girl shivered and turned to her right towards the sound. The wail repeated, this time lower, like a sob, followed quickly by a louder cry. The sounds appeared to be originating behind a group of large rocks on the lake’s edge. She cautiously crept around the rocks and saw an elegant woman sitting on a simple wooden chair with her back to the girl. Next to her, was a basket filled with white garments. The woman’s hands appeared greenish against the pale robe she was washing.
The greenish woman, sensing an observer behind her, turned her face towards the girl and the rocks. The girl gasped at her vividly red eyes. The greenish woman’s skin around her eyes was also red as if she had been crying for days. The strange woman rose to her feet, facing the girl and called out, “Child, are you lost?”
The girl started to slink away from view, but then gathering courage stepped forward and responded, “Yes, I ….” The girl faltered, unsure what to say. She considered asking for directions or information, but she blurted out, “Why are you crying?”
“I can see that you are not from here. You are a human child. Well, child, I am Mara of the Sorrowful Lake, Queen of the Banshee.” She paused, but seeing that the girl did not understand, she continued. “The Banshee are a people given to the task of mourning. We weep over every individual who dies. We also foretell the nearing demise of the noble preparing their burial clothes in advance for their coming doom. This night my sorrow is exceedingly bitter. The garments I have washed are for a very great hero deserving the attention only a queen could give. The robes puzzle me for it is rare to not know who the clothes might be for. These are perhaps the size of a small Sprite or a tall Brownie, but I know not of one who fits this description.” She sighed and dropped the garment she was holding into her basket next to the wooden chair. Then she looked up. “Now tell me about yourself. Who are you and how did you come here?”
The girl lowered her eyes from the majestic woman and began to dig in the dirt with her sock covered toe. “I don’t remember,” she mumbled. “I don’t know where I am, how I got here, or where I’m from.”
“Do not worry, child.” The queen reached out her hand with a kind smile. The girl stepped forward and took it. “I sense the good in you. I will help you. What is the last thing you do remember?” The queen sat in her chair to look into the girl’s eyes. “It might be very important.”
“Well, I remember running through the woods after something ….” As the girl started her story, a violent rustling came from a bush at the forest edge.
A voice cried out, “Off! You horrid arachnids! Die, I say!” The violent rustling continued.
The queen stood up and the girl hid behind her. “Whoever you are, show yourself immediately!” demanded the queen.
A bundle of fur leaped from the forest edge and rolled around, dropping a bright orange top hat and matching umbrella. Finally, it stood up, brushing itself off. He was a small satyr, about the girl’s height. He wore a white long-sleeve shirt, a fine patterned orange vest, with a chain coming from the pocket. He had a reddish goatee, sprinkled with streaks of gray hair, and a mop of the same red and gray curly hair on his head. He walked over and picked up his hat and umbrella.
The little satyr then gave a grand bow. “Your Highness,” he addressed formally.
“Puck!” the queen exclaimed, then sighed. “Why are you here? There is a price on your head.”
“I had a vision about the wind portal and journeyed here to verify its security. I was resting nearby when I was awakened by this girl’s running through the woods. I pursued her until I was assailed by those terrible beasts,” he explained. “The girl arrived here on her own, but she will not be able to return. I do not know how, but the portals were unlocked without being opened.”
The queen gasped. “Unlocked?”
Suddenly, a huge crow began to fly straight for the girl. Puck stepped in the way and whacked him with his umbrella. He then waved his free hand creating a clear bubble around them.
“A spy,” said Queen Mara.
Puck nodded. “The shield will make us invisible for a little while,” he said to the girl.
After a moment of silent thinking, the queen said, “The girl is here now, and she must be kept safe from the eyes of Maldamien. I think she is under a curse. We are not safe here. Maldamien will know she has arrived. I cannot bring her to my court. There are spies everywhere, even in the Banshee palace.”
“Let me take the girl,” Puck volunteered. “I can both protect her and teach her how to survive. I also have to stay away from Maldamien’s eyes.”
“That would be best. Thank you, Puck.” The queen pushed the girl around in front of her and knelt to her eye level. “What is your name, child? Do you remember?”
The girl looked into the queen’s bright red eyes. “Yes. My name is Autumn.”
Queen Mara frowned and stood up, looking at Puck. “That is a portentous name.”
Puck shook his head and shrugged. “It is a lovely name,” he replied.
The queen’s frown softened. “Yes,” the queen agreed, a smile briefly touching the corners of her mouth. “Puck, we must hurry. Autumn is definitely under the curse of the portals. She has the smell of magic on her. She has no memory, and whatever her previous age, she has been transformed into a child. As her guardian, I would like to bind you two together.” Puck and the Queen seemed to have a quick exchange of expressions until a silent understanding passed between them in that momentarily pause.
She looked at Autumn. “This would magically help you both keep track of each other. If you are separated for any reason, you will always be able to be found by Puck. Also,” she turned to Puck, “I can give you papers to help you travel securely as master and slave. It would be less suspicious if she is disguised.” The queen smiled at Autumn. “This will only be a disguise for your safety. Trust Puck. He was once a school teacher and he will take care of you.”
“I am afraid that your plan would be best, but I detest slavery, even the image of it,” grumbled Puck. “At least the magic bond will be there in a worst case scenario, but the girl must be willing.”
Autumn looked at both adults. She had just met them. She felt like she could trust them but to be magically leashed to someone seemed drastic. Puck took the girl’s hands. “I know you must be confused and afraid, but I will try to help you get home ….”
Autumn jerked her head up and looked into Puck’s eyes. “I don’t want to go home.”
Puck looked at the queen, then back at the girl. “What?”
“We must hurry, child.” The Queen looked around. “I feel eyes upon us.” The queen waved her hand reinforcing the dome around them. “This will help for now.”
“I don’t know why, but I know that I have no home and that I am looking for something. I can’t do anything until I get my memories back. I will be bound if you will help me break this curse and help me find what I was searching for,” the girl stated more confidently than she felt. She didn’t feel like she had much choice. It was a choice to go with them or wander around alone.
Puck nodded.
“So be it,” said the Queen as she held out her hand. Puck placed his hand in hers. “Autumn, place your right hand over Puck’s.”
Autumn obeyed. As Autumn touched Puck’s hand, multicolored rays of light shot out of the Queen’s hand. A ring of some sort of writing appeared on Puck’s and Autumn’s wrists. The girl removed her hand from Puck’s, and Puck picked up three pieces of paper from the Queen’s hand. Autumn looked at the green symbols encircling her wrists. She felt anxious hoping she hadn’t just made a mistake.
The Queen tiredly addressed them. “I have helped you as much as I can, but now go. My magic will go with you for as long as possible, but it will fade soon. My hopes go with you as well.”
The Banshee Queen turn towards the lake, which moved out of her way revealing a hidden staircase. She walked down into the depths, the water closed over her, and she was gone.
If you like what you read, Gryphendale is available at Amazon:
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