The Cat-goose

In the southwest of the empire lay a town.

This particular town settled by the fjords of the Fissure Sounds, west of the freshwater paths winding to the heart of our enemy, where the caverns drown with living tar. It was known for its gentle waters, warm weather, and fish.

It was also home to a certain gryphon.

As the story went, while passing by a craggy island, an old fisherman spotted a strange glow in the crook of an ancient tree leaning over the waters. On investigation, he discovered a Gryphon’s Nook, and a pearly white egg within.

He took it, of course. The man had all the morals of a rat, and the greed of a gambler. Probably deprived a seeking gryphon pair the chance of a happy family.

He certainly deprived Seelis.

As all opportunistic types tend to, he took full advantage of his luck and the gryphons’ birdlike quirk of imprinting on the first being they lay eyes upon. By the time anyone found out he had a gryphon, not even the gryphons themselves could object. Splitting a chick from her parent is the height of cruelty, so they say.

Seelis likely would have been better off dragged away than raised as a fish-catcher and little more. It’s no wonder she rebelled and ended up running with the dregs of society.

To anyone else, this unruly little devil would be nothing more than a nuisance. To me, she is—she was—one of the best companions I ever had the privilege of fighting alongside.

So I find myself here, only a day or two’s travel from Devil’s Mouth—where I somewhat reluctantly revived—and at the town of Fishmouth. Lovely name for a lovely place.

Happens to smell like the inside of a fish’s mouth, too.

“Sire, are you sure we should be...?”

It’s been years since anyone respectfully referred to me as “sire”. This young guardsman—barely under my current age, I suppose, though I can’t recall exactly how old I’m meant to be—has caught on quickly, as wary of the supposed prince-heir striding down the shoreside road past nets and boats and curious eyes as he should be.

They all stare at the half-mask, a simple white silk-patch covering the left side of my face, and an unfortunate necessity. I haven’t brought a large entourage. I would have brought none if dear sister hadn’t insisted, but at least I can choose whether to proclaim myself or not. No one needs to know who I am.

“Do you know of a gryphon named Seelis who lives around here?” I ask an old woman who might know the old man and therefore my former—or future—companion.

“Seelis? My lord,” she belatedly adds after a moment’s evaluation. “Of course I know that mischief-maker. She’ll either be down at sly Geno’s boat or off with those good-for-nothing’s again. Why’s a mighty man like yourself after her, hm?”

“I’d like to have a word.” No point in trying to be coy, here. “Where’s Geno?”

“Well, ain’t none of my business. You’ll find him off by the old tree, down the end there.”

I thank her and move on my way.

“Sire, we really should contact the local magistrate and—”

“I don’t intend to stay here.” Whispers follow us, the captain and his two men far more tense about it all than the situation warrants. What do they expect these fishermen to do? Attempt to murder me? “Remain at ease. These people aren’t devils.”

The sun is warm, the sky achingly blue, and the clear waters lap gently at the shore beneath the hum and bustle of peaceful life surrounding us. There is no danger here, not even from the gnarled old man fattened on his good fortune, washing his nets in the shade of the ancient willow.

He looks up as the crunch of our boots approach. He’s not much to look at. Short, stooped, straggly hair tied in a bob and a thin moustache, with a stout middle—this is the man who raised Seelis?

Colour me unimpressed.

“Geno, I assume?” I loom over him by a head.

“Ahh, my lord!” The man bobs a series of nervous bows. “You are asking for me? You’ve caught me at an awkward time!”

“I’m not after you for your thieving.” I glance up into the branches of the tree, something or someone disappearing from view. “I’m here for your ward.”

“Ah, m-my—? Sel?”

“I’d like to speak with her.”

“Well I ah....” The old man wrings his hands, practically shrivelling in on himself. He has every reason to be nervous. “She was just here, my lord. Barely a moment ago. What... may I ask what you want her for?”

Hm, being shy, is she? That’s unlike her. “That’s a matter I’d rather discuss with her. Can you tell me where she went?”

“Right here, brass boots!”

I find myself assaulted by a young gryphon falling out of a tree.

Before anyone can react, she snatches for my throat, snaps off the gold locket there, and launches away for the high hills. “Thanks for the shinies!”

Well, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it.

“Hey! Thief! Stop right there in the name of the Imperial heir!”

I take my hand away from my stinging neck a bit too late to stop my guard from running off after her with swords unsheathed. “Don’t harm her!”

And they’ve already leapt over another boat higher up the shore to disappear along the street. Did she really have to go for my throat?

“I-Imperial heir? I’m— my lord I—”

“Easy. I don’t plan to have you beheaded.” I straighten my collar and start after them. “It’s too morally degrading.”

Following the sound of shouting, I’m already beginning to feel lightheaded by the time I catch sight of my guard alarming the general population. They’re currently threatening a wild goose with the hind limbs of a cat leaping over one rickety rooftop to the next, and go down with a crash when she kicks off a light skiff leaning against a wall.

She smirks at me and tosses the locket in her beak, vanishing over the rooftop.

I sigh as well as I can, puffing like a bellows.

The captain staggers up as I dash past. “Your highness! She could be dangerous, don’t—”

My apologies, Eruto. This old man has more experience with her tricks.

Spiriscence snaps sparkling lines around my hand, and with an imbuing touch a cobblestone rises cleanly under my feet, launching me onto the rooftop. Unlike Seelis, however, I find the tiles slip alarmingly. Bother.

The solution is to run faster. Something my body currently protests as much as the roof protests my weight.

Cries rise from below as a tile shatters on the road, more cries following the unusual sight of a nobleman running across the roof, rich cream cloak billowing behind him.

From the look of her, the goose thinks it’s hilarious. Maybe it is—red-faced, out-of-shape rich type leaping over the gap and cracking his knee on the rooftop. I might laugh if I could see myself.

She slows just to taunt me as I stagger upright, fluffy, feather-tipped tail flicking lazily from her perch on the peak. “Ain’t you not bad at rooftops. I never seen a brass-boot jump, ever.”

“Can we please,” I huff, “talk about this? You have no reason to steal that. You won’t be able to sell it, when everyone knows you stole it from me. And I’m not here for—”

She ignores my gesture towards the locket and tosses it to her other claw. “Nah. You want it, you come and get it!”

With that, she turns, leaps off, and soars over strings of flags hung above a main street, ware-sellers looking up. Their wariness turns to shock as I imbue my boots and follow.

“What’n the hells kinda fancy magic noble are you?!”

I land with a stumble, snatching for her tail as she hangs there for a moment in shock. Twisting away with a squawk, her spotted fur slips past my fingers, and sharp claws catch my skin in a kick.

Deep enough to draw blood. Well, if she initiated it.

Red threads writhe across my skin as she snaps her wings, and a crimson string shoots after her. Catching around her hind leg, it yanks her to a halt. A gentle one. I don’t want to cut through her ankle.

“Wha—?” She struggles, snapping at the string with the teeth hidden in her bill. “Hey! What’n the hells is this?!”

“Sels, give me one moment to explain why I’m here.” This is like dealing with a young, angry goose-cat gryphon all over again. Because that’s what it is. “I know you. Another version of you. An older you. From the future—”

“What’re you? Some kinda immissure? You gonna eat me with this freaky blood magic stuff?!”

“No I—”

“Hells nah!” Her black snakelike neck draws back, beak opening.

Fissures. I duck away a moment before a hiss slices from her bill and cuts through the thread, nearly cutting me.

Teenagers never do listen, do they?

The remaining blood snaps back over the scratches, and I lunge after her instead. She might think I’m caught off-guard enough to—

I am caught off-guard when she snaps around and barrels full-force into me from the side. Shoved clean off the roof, I pull on still-imbued boots. Which does slow the fall. But unfortunately also winds up tossing me head over heels into a weedy river running behind the houses.

...Sitting in muddy water with curious, tiny fish attempting to nibble me was not how I imagined this ending up. It is, however, nostalgically familiar.