16. Fishing by Thayne

thayne

It was one of those glorious winter mornings that one could only witness when on an island paradise. The sky was crisp and clear, save for a few thin clouds that brushed across the pallet of sapphire. But in the immaculate blue, a speck of brown happily swept along the air currents, enjoying the bliss of freedom. An eagle was that speck, and while he banked left, a stream of sparkling ice crystals danced off his wing tips. The land beneath his flight was brown and purple, washed with patches of white, beautiful despite winter’s sleep that had possessed it.

A second eagle swooped down beneath the first. Youth and energy possessed this raptor; he didn’t bother with site seeing. Plunging rapidly, he anchored his gaze upon a plump salmon, one that was fighting its way upstream.

Swift and silent, the young eagle leveled along the river. One flap graced his wingtips with the water. A second brought him up to the fish. Within a blink of an eye talons lunged forward, snatching up his prize.

Strong wings lifted the still wiggling fish free from the river’s embrace. Banking right, the eagle carried the offering to his new mate. Fresh new love flowed through his veins. It was the first time he had ever felt love, and it obsessed his every action. Made every motion, like how he approached the land so boldly, feel like he made them just for her. Zealously, he deposited the catch at her feet.

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The elf woman giggled, she couldn’t help herself. This was just so odd, something she never could have imagined. “Come home with me,” Cory had pleaded, “Meet my parents. We’ll go fishing!” Fishing. Cory had not mentioned that the Ael’renmah family took fishing so seriously. So as the salmon plopped out of the sky and landed at her feet, she rushed after it, snagging it up before it writhed its way back to the freedom of the river. Once it was secure in a basket with the other bounty, she waved up at the eagle while shouting, “I got it!” The eagle cackled happily in response. He saw. Clutching her hands to her chest, she smiled. Her prince. The eagle.
>>>

This perfect morning was not to last. For another creature claimed this river and was not willing to share with a pair of trespassers. Before either of the two eagles was aware of the threat, it came rushing down upon the youngest of the pair, with the bone crunching force of a hurricane. The gryphon screamed a victory cry, followed shortly by the dual screams of the eagle’s loved ones, both from above and below.

“CORY!!” Screamed his girlfriend.

His father’s cry was much different. His eagle’s eyes picked up every dislodged feather, every drop of blood in some sort of twisted slow motion. Thayne didn’t even think, just acted. The eagle’s cry screeched through the sky, a high-pitched, rage-filled wail as he plunged down upon the creature that dared to harm his son. Feathers shifted into scales, beak into fanged maw, wings into foreclaws. Suddenly, the shimmering white body of a mist dragon possessed the sky.

The gryphon released the motionless eagle; it now had bigger problems. Tooth and claw met feather and flesh as the two collided, falling forever downward, as neither spared any energy to stay aloft. The gryphon howled in panic just as the foes crashed into the clawing, winter-bare branches and trees.

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Meanwhile, Cory had dropped into the river, followed shortly thereafter by his ladylove. She swam after his lifeless form, which had returned to his real elf body shortly after impact. He didn’t stir as the swift current swept him downstream. But his girl was not some helpless elf maiden; she was a cadet in the elite ranger corps of Sum’firahel, just like Cory.

Rapidly she swam, the panic in her heart making her reach outward that much further and paw through the waves that much harder. It kept her going through the blood tinted current until her arms wrapped around his chest. It helped her hike him back, tipping his head free from the water. “It’s ok, Cory.” She gasped reassuringly, though it was doubtful he heard.

By the time she reached the shore, her arms were like lead, exertion in the frigid current having stolen her strength. She pulled Cory’s still lifeless body from the river and saw for the first time the amount of damage the gryphon had done.

“Blessed All Mother!” She swore. It was not the blood and broken bones that pulled such an oath from her trembling lips. But it was the death-blue tint to his skin. “NO!” she screamed and shook his shoulders as the hot sting of tears flowed down her cheeks. “THAYNE!” She called out to the wilderness, looking around for help. She saw none. She didn’t even know if the Lord of Haven was still locked up in combat, didn’t know if his fate was the same as his son’s.

Suddenly aware of the cold, her whole body began to shiver despite any effort to stop it. Cold. He is just cold, and that is a good thing. A part of her mind grasped that bit of hope, and it kicked her training into action. Past trembling desperate lips, prayers flowed. Her hands warmed with magic and a light filled Cory’s broken body. The magic worked! And that meant he lived.

His back arched and he coughed, purging a lungful of river water out over his chin. Broken ribs set and the most life threatening of the gashes sealed over. She couldn’t undo all the damage, but as Cory’s green eyes fluttered open, she felt like the All-Mother had blessed her with a miracle.

Sobbing with relief, she embraced him, “Oh Cory!”

He grunted in pain, one arm still was broken. “I’m ok.” He lied. The two held each other, sharing their warmth as their emotions stilled and relief washed over them.

“Corythalis!” Thayne shouted as he made it to the pair. Other than a few cuts, he looked unharmed. Apparently the gryphon paid the ultimate price for the assault upon the Lord of Haven and his son.

Cory hiked himself up, “I’m fine, father.” The young man had gashes along his face and neck and by the way his arm draped limply from the shoulder, it was obvious he was far from fine.

Thayne knelt down and gingerly took his son in a loving embrace, “Thank Angharradh you are alive.”

Lowering her chin, the young woman gave them a few moments alone by closing her eyes tight and wiping the tears away from her lashes. From conversations with Cory, she knew what his father must have been feeling. This year the Prince of Haven turned 108 years old. Which was one year older than when his father was taken from his family. Last year had been rough, as if Thayne thought Cory too would suffer the same fate. This encounter proved that events could still happen to take him away. Holding herself tight, she wondered if things like family curses could be true.

As her eyes opened, they were met by Cory’s reassuring smile. Softly he said, “Thank Joylihn, too.”

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Wed, Feb 25th – 4:44PM