A Gryphon's Test

“For all the people I could be stuck up here with,” Steel mused, the soft chattering of his beak audible just over the wind “I’m rather glad it was you.”

His vulpine companion smiled, smoothing his azure fur as he forced a grin over his own icy lips. “Likewise,” he assured his friend. “Choice is a powerful thing: and I don’t regret any of mine.”

For Fuchs, just like for each person that had come before and would come after, life was not a linear path. It was a perpetually branching road of those choices: and the divergences were limitless.

And even when he chose to walk the path of the military, the possibilities did not end for him. Again the road severed itself into several distinct avenues: he could fight amongst the ground troops in open combat, on the sea in naval battles, or in the air on the backs of winged mounts.

It was with the latter that he inevitably found his calling – and, again, a diverse array of choices. Some of his fellow graduates were called to ride dragons – a tempting blend of strength and beauty. Others were beckoned to mount winged serpents, arguably the fastest mounts in the known world. Others still discovered the Pegasus; and, while neither as fast as the flying snakes nor as strong as dragons, they were unquestionably loyal companions.

But, in the end, it was Fuchs’s choice – and he didn’t choose any of the three. There was a fourth option: a rare race of creatures that descended from the Northern Mountains every few decades, sending a single representative to serve in The Empire’s aerial ranks.

A gryphon’s claws were sharper than those of a dragon; his wings were nearly as fast as those of a winged serpent; his heart was as radiant and loyal as that of any Pegasus – so much so that it was said some gryphons would switch off their own bodily functions to swallow and protect their eggs and young.

Theirs was a friendship instantly forged: Fuchs chose Steel and Steel, in turn, chose him.

The pairing came just after individual training, marking the end of isolated study. There, until either death or dismissal, rider and mount would live and train together; and, there, came the endeavor ominously titled The Test.

It was not necessarily a test of strength, cunning, or skill of any kind: it was a test of endurance. From sunrise to sunset each team of the aerial combat units would take shelter in one of the caves of the Great Mountain, braving the winter’s cold with only a few packs of dried meat and a jug of water.

It was each team’s first mission: to survive.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a dragon up here?” Steel pressed, nodding down the cliff. Several hundred feet below, the lighted interior of another cave was visible in the growing twilight. There a young bear – one Fuchs had roomed with during his combat training – and his own mount laughed and relaxed, basking in the glow of a sizable campfire.

His vulpine companion rose and marched across the cave, curling up at the gryphon’s side. He ran his fingers through the myriad of feathers and fur that traversed his frame, smiling as he insistently shook his head.

“Dragon scales are rough.” He explained. “I couldn’t do this with a dragon: this is much nicer.”

A cold rush of wind entered the cave and, despite his assurances, Fuchs shivered. Yet in spite of it all, the happy grin never left his face.

“What about a Sky Viper? The winged serpents could coil around you to keep you warm?”

“Snakes are cold blooded!” Fuchs laughed. “Their riders will be the ones keeping them warm tonight.”

“Or a Pegasus, then? They could fold a wing over you, and it would be just like sleeping in a cozy tent?”

Fuchs grabbed one of his friend’s wings and pulled it down lower, arching a skeptical brow.

“And you can’t?”

Steel smiled acceptingly; though, again, the moment was cut short by a bitter burst of wind.

“We’re too high up.” Fuchs’s mount growled as he peered back over the cave’s ledge. “This is the highest cave on the mountain! At this altitude we’ll be icicles by morning – or you will, at least. Your fur isn’t as thick as mine.”

“Always the optimist…” Fuchs chuckled through an emphatic shiver.

“It is called being realistic.” The gryphon countered. “But, once a problem is found, one can also find a solution…”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I can’t breathe fire like a dragon.” Steel explained. “But I have that same warmth – only within. You’re familiar with our nesting habits?”

“I know you sometimes swallow your eggs to keep them safe…”

“You’re not so different, I suppose? You’re just a bit more fur and a few extra limbs away from being an egg yourself. I could give it a shot?”

“You’d… swallow me?”

“It requires trust on your part and dedication on mine. I’m willing to commit if you are?”

The notion was absurd and unquestionably intimidating. But it was also coming from a friend – one to which Fuchs did indeed trust his life.

“Just watch the beak.” The fox ordered; then he clenched his arms at his sides and nodded, showing his consent.

Steel did indeed “watch his beak” as he steadily parted his jaws and lowered them around Fuchs’s shoulders. His rider was a good bit larger than an egg; and, immediately, the gryphon began having second thoughts about the act’s practicality. But his kind was indeed loyal; and his friend was indeed in danger.

His tongue shifted back and forth, trying its best to lather his mouth’s occupant with saliva. The act brought a bout of tickled laughter from the fox; but, slowly, helped him to slide further. For a horrible instant it seemed like the gryphon was choking; then, to the relief of both Fuchs and Steel, the rider’s body slid through his mount’s narrow throat and into the belly beyond.

Both were left panting, but both were also moved. For Steel, it was an assurance of trust and understanding; for Fuchs it was a true display of affection and dedication – not to mention he was out of the cold.

On the mountainside the gryphon bent low, wrapping his neck and beak around the bulge in his belly; and, within that belly, the fox reached out to wrap his arms around one organic wall. It was a hug that marked victory in a dangerous test, and the start of a wonderful friendship to come.