The current whistles under his black wings. He scans the ground below carefully. If a beak could frown, his would, but for now he must be satisfied with a discontent caw now and then. He had told her to stay home and wait for him, that it was not safe for her to be on her own yet. She wasn't ready. Knights, hunters, humans, goblins, wyrms, bears, earthquakes, sinkholes, rivers, fire. There's no telling what could have befallen her while he was away. He had thought this time she'd be old enough and with enough sense to leave alone for a few days... Apparently, he had thought wrong.
He circles above the trees, scanning. If only his main creature form was something with better eyesight or hearing—like a kestrel or an owl—not a blasted raven. You'd think after a hundred years or so he'd be used to it, and yet it still frustrates him.
He catches an air current north. For a second, he swears he can hear the clashing of metal in the distance. He pumps his wings. His heart raises in his chest as he gets closer. Then he hears her distinct from the medley and his heart skips a beat.
He circles closer and then spies a dark shadow darting down from the clouds in her direction. "No!" He dives and swoops at the form, discovering it soon to be much, much larger than himself. Why would a griffin be diving at his daughter, he wonders. Well, then again, why wouldn't one?
The mahogany furred beast ignores him and dives, opening its talons wide. The raven follows close behind and snaps at its tail. It screeches as it pulls up and lashes its tail. The raven tumbles out of the air and lands ungracefully on the ground. Groaning, he shifts his form and holds his head as he looks up and watches the griffin leave with some red wolf in its clutches. He pushes himself up, dusts the dirt and grass from his clothing, and shakes out his cloak. If there was one thing he had learned from his academy days, no one will take you seriously if your hair is full of grass. He then realizes that the sound of fighting has stopped.
"Perhaps the griffin startled some sense into their heads. Humans." He rolls his eyes and begins to stride towards the field.
***
With a snarl, Blair stabs her sword into the grass. Her shoulders tremble slightly as she still grips the hilt tightly. "It's not fair."
"I know, but life rarely is. All that matters is that we have regained the throne."
She looks over her shoulder at the man and his graying black beard. "He deserves having his head loped off. I had him, right in position. It's not right. All of those lives he wasted and yet he gets away!" She shrugs off his attempt to lay his hand on her shoulder. His further attempts to console her are moot.
Foirtchern eventually sighs and sits down by a tree. "I'm telling you, darling, we will see him again and then you can have at him all you wish. We need to reassure the masses that all is well."
"Can't you? You're the king after all."
"I was the king. I think we both know who really is in charge now." He smiles at her.
Blair turns slightly, eyeing him in silence. "You think I'm ready?"
"You brought all of these cultures together to reclaim our family's home, Blair. Of course I think you're ready."
"I'm not ready."
"Of course you are!"
"No." She looks at the sword and hangs her head. "You don't understand, father. I'm not ready." She looks up at the sky and watches a single cloud drift by. "I'm not ready to settle down and raise a kingdom. There's a whole world out there."
Foirtchern chuckles and watches her. "You haven't seen enough of the world after all of these years in exile?"
"That was different."
"Was it?" He stands up. "You saw what happens outside our valley. Our kind is hunted down, like your Uncle Morray. Remember? Do you really want to risk leaving our valley like him?"
Blair's shoulders tense again. "That was different. It wasn't my fault..."
"I'm not pinning fault on either of you. I'm just stating a fact, Blair. The outside world killed him. You can't leave the pack now that we have it back. It's too risky."
She stands there and feels the gentle breeze in her hair. She hears the second man approaching before she turns. His steps are quick in coming, despite his long stride. Glancing over her shoulder, she first sees his fists by his sides, clenching and unclenching as though fixing his grip on some invisible reign. His shoulders, squared back, and his spine is straighter than he ever holds it, turning him into some dark, towering tree.
"Vasco!" A large smile spreads over her face and she runs to hug him, completely ignoring his displeased frown.
He holds her closely before holding her away at arm's length. "Care to explain why you're not at home? I could have sworn I told you explicitly to stay and wait for me."
Blair looks away. "I know, you did. And I tried to listen, but then I heard his howling and I just had to investigate and one thing just led to another and, and—"
"Whose howl?"
"That would have been mine." Foirtchern stands and offers his hand. "Foirtchern, Blair's father."
Vasco looks at his hand and him and pulls Blair closer to himself. "Yeah right."
"I understand your disbelief, I was just as surprised to see that my daughter was raised by a Vendia. I've never seen one of your kind in person before." He smiles.
"I'm more surprised that you have the audacity to try waltzing back into her life after sixteen years of being dead, if you are who you say you are." He narrows his eyes at the older-looking man.
"But it is him, he looks and smells like I remember." Blair says, squirming in the wizard's embrace.
"Physical senses are not hard to deceive, my dear. Come on, let's go home." He starts to pick her up, but she ducks from his arms and stands apart from them both.
"Vasco, I am home." She looks at him. "Can't you see? I found my father! I found my pack! I even freed them from Uarraig's rule! I can't go back to the castle."
"She has to ascend her throne."
Vasco looks at them, blinking. He then takes a deep breath and looks away. "If that's what you have decided, Blair, I won't stand in the way. In fact...Allow me to leave you to your new found responsibilities, your highnesses." He bows slightly and begins to walk away.
"What? Leave? Why are you leaving?" She grabs the end of his cloak and looks at him. Her sky blue eyes widen.
He stops, but does not look at her. "You know I have a job already...As much as I may wish I could stay and advise you and your offspring for the rest of eternity, you know I can't."
"But...I don't want you to go."
He turns and looks at her with a gentle smile. "You'll be just fine...After all, now you have your...Father." He swallows and kisses the top of her head. "Be a good girl, alright? No rolling around in fields of wolfsbane or snapping at bees." He forces a chuckle.
Blair hugs him closely again. "No! I don't even know him yet! You can't go!"
Vasco just rubs her back and looks around, trying to look at anything except the other man. He has always known one day this day would come. He always thought he would be ready and that it would be easy to let go. He just hadn't thought it would be this soon. He thought he had a few more years before she would want to leave.
A little snippet of orange fabric then catches his eye. He can hear Blair distantly whining something, but his focus is completely on the fabric. Orange background with a black griffin holding a snake.
"DADDY!"
Vasco jumps and looks down into Blair's confused face.
"Are you okay?"
He slowly shakes his head. "No." His focus has returned to the cloth.
Blair follows his gaze and picks the cloth from the twig it hangs from. She then offers it to him. "Do you want this?"
Vasco nods slowly, getting it from her. His lips press into a thin line as he slides it into one of the small bags at his hip. "I have to go, Blair. You need to stay here." His voice is slow and distant. He stands up fully and looks at Foirtchern. "I need a door. Is there one nearby?"
Foirtchern nods. "There's a small shack in the woods not too far off. Otherwise, the tent flaps of any of our houses...But those wouldn't work, would they?"
"No, but the shack will. Please, lead the way."
"Where are you going?" Blair asks, following them closely.
"Aetherius...There are a few wizards there who have some explaining to do before I raise hell."
"Literally or figuratively?"
Vasco glances at her with a slightly evil smirk. "Both if necessary."
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