The Path Given

The silence in the valley was heavy.

The giant Shardwing Griffin stared. Its glittering eyes moved from the tense, half-hidden Traveller to the small, calm Bob. It looked at the glowing blue mushroom, a peaceful light in the tense air.

Slowly, carefully, the giant creature took a step. Then another. It did not fly. It walked. Its heavy paws were silent on the rocky ground.

It reached the rock where the mushroom lay. It lowered its sharp, beaked head and gently picked up the glowing gift. It did not eat it. It just held it.

Then, it turned and walked back to its nest. It placed the mushroom down among the branches, where it cast a soft blue light over the giant eggs within. A small, private star for its home.

The griffin looked back at them. It let out a low, soft chuff, a sound like a quiet cough. Then it took three steps to the side, away from the path. It sat down, folded its glittering wings, and simply watched them.

The path was clear.

Traveller let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Their hand, which had been gripping their sword hilt so tightly, finally relaxed.

"Okay, Bob," they whispered, their voice a little shaky. "Let's go. Slowly."

They guided Bob down from the ridge and onto the valley floor. They began to walk on the path, right past the giant, watching creature.

Traveller's body was a straight, tense line. Their eyes were locked forward, ready for any sudden movement. They were a coiled spring of danger and caution.

Bob, however, was not tense. He looked at the big, shiny bird. It was not scary anymore. It was just watching them. As they passed, Bob gave the griffin another small, friendly wave.

The griffin's head tilted again. It blinked its huge, intelligent eyes, once.

When they were safely on the other side of the valley, Bob looked back. He could see the griffin, still sitting peacefully. And he could see the small, blue glow of his gift, shining from the center of its nest.

Traveller stopped. They looked back at the griffin, then down at Bob. They looked at his plain face, his stick-sword, and the compass resting on his chest. They were quiet for a long time.

Then, a soft, wry sound came from under the hood. It was a small, disbelieving chuckle.

"Innocence," Traveller said, their voice full of a strange new wonder. "It's its own kind of path, isn't it?"