The Perogryph

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The creature's delicate howl broke through the muted snowfall, leading me to where it roamed on the cool blue surface of the frozen lake. I rested behind a tree, taking an eyeful of the rare entity. The posters at the Broken Bottle Tavern had me believe the Perogryph to be a viscous, ravenous beast. Black, hollow eyes. Teeth like daggers, too big for its jaw. Eliminating such a beast would’ve been a service to any lives passing through the woods, but that wasn’t the creature I saw before me. The animal was indescribable. She moved through the woods, across the snow weightlessly, like wind through the trees. Her hooves left no prints. Even her orange hair had a weightlessness to it as it swayed around her fox-like head. Describing how the creature looked, the image of her, was fairly easy. What was indescribable was how the creature felt. It was almost as if it lit a small fire in me at the mere sight of it. Not raging fire, no, more like the kind of warmth you felt in winter by the fireplace in the tavern. Maybe it was how she glistened in the light like fiery gold. Actually, it was probably closer to the warmth a child felt in a mother’s embrace. Soothing.

I crouched with my knees buried in the snow. My tribow rested against my side. The weapon probably had more of a reputation than I did. A strange creation unlike anything in Impyria. Similar to a crossbow but the limbs sat vertically. It had a striking combination of polished woods and carefully crafted Dwarven brass, and loaded three arrows at a time with a single pull of a lever on the side. The arrows were cast in silver, with incredibly sharp leaf shaped heads. The weapon’s unique ammunition took a long while to make, so each head had a history of penetrating many hides. Suffice it to say, the Perogryph was guaranteed to fall. I focused on my breathing as I aimed. My fingers pressed against the trigger gently.

“It’ll go by quickly, girl,” I whispered.

Three feathers from her wings would’ve paid off my debt, not to mention moving out of the Blackburrows for good. Hot meals would’ve been served every night for my son. One dead Perogryph would set anyone up for life, or close to it. It seemed more than worth it. Peaceful or not, the creature needed to die.

I held more pressure on the trigger, inhaling through my nose before counting down.

Three…two…one…

My aim faltered for a moment.

Damn.

No, it didn’t need to die. Instead I watched her head move side to side knocking off the fallen snow collecting in her feathers. She wandered around not knowing her beauty or her value. If she knew how much gold one feather could’ve provided she would’ve stayed hidden, letting the inaccurate tales of her spiral further into obscurity.

I backed away, admiring the one of a kind creature, the tribow tucked away on my side again. It was probably the first and last time I’d ever see one. As for leaving the Blackburrows, hot meals and a better life for my son, well, it needed to wait until I found another way.

“Take care of yourself,” I whispered.

Her howl echoed through the muted snowfall, again breaking the cool silence of the woods. It was different this time. Louder. Panicked.

I stopped.

A low, deep rumble came from under the ice, malevolently thundering through my feet. The Perogryph lifted its wings as it backed up from a growing darkness under the ice.

Come on, girl. Run. Don’t just stand there.

Cracks formed under her hooves, knocking her around as she tried to run. As quick as a breath, long tentacles busted through the ice, wrapping around the poor creature like a hand emerging from a never ending abyss. The Perogryph cried as it threw her around, repeatedly slamming her against the ice.

I didn’t hesitate as I sprinted towards her. At the unbroken edge of the lake, I leaned over while pushing a small lever on each of my boots, releasing Dwarven made spikes from the heels. “May the great tree Pyra bless you, Grithim,” I said, cautiously stepping onto the ice. It drifted and swayed as I moved.

As I marched closer, tentacles swung at me, whipping my legs, sending a hot, stinging pain through my body. I did my best to ignore it.

“Oh, no ya don’t you sick bastard. Go back to hell, where you belong.”

I raised the tribow again, aiming it at the tentacles. Three arrows flew, but it was too quick. They bounced awkwardly off its rubber-like skin.

“Hold on girl,” I said, placing another three arrows into the tribow. “Stay with me.”

One arrow punctured its skin. The beast loosened its grip around the Perogryph, dropping her.

A tentacle wrapped around my ankle, yanking me towards the water, sending me crashing down. The tribow slid across the ice and disappeared into a snowbank.

Shit, shit, shit.

I clawed at the ice as it pulled me closer, kicking as the tentacle strangled my ankle harder. It was going to pull me in. I held my breath.

Three….two…..one. Splash.

My skin burned in the pitch black lake. The savage cold bit through my thick carbohide coat. I felt another tentacle swim around me, squeezing me tightly in its grasp. My ribs popped, sending pain up my side like lightning. My teeth were clenched together so hard they threatened to break in my mouth. In the midst of sharp bolts of pain and eternal darkness, I found myself desperately rummaging inside my coat, searching for my knife, but weakness claimed me.

The beast's guttural screams vibrated through the water as I sank further into limbo, assuming it wanted to drown me first before crunching on my bones. A faint memory of the Perogryph faded into shadow like smoke and in its place, images of my son flooded in. Images of him alone, growing up with the barmaid, Agatha, in the tavern. Images of him asking her where I was, not knowing I’d lay in scattered pieces at the bottom of a lake.

Something changed. There was a prickling sensation as blood returned to my foot. For some reason, the beast had let go of it. Perhaps it knew I was weak and ready to be eaten, but I didn’t spare the time to ponder it. Within my boot, I moved my toes. I thanked Pyra that at least my foot wasn’t broken.

It took me a moment to realize I was near the water’s surface again, the sunlight broke through the shattered hole in the ice. It was raising me up, high enough to suck in a small, precious mouthful of air before going under again. The face of the creature, if you could call it that, grew more defined in the murky light. There were more eyes than I could count. A thousand teeth lined a wide, opening mouth. A mouth it was lowering me into.

In the fog that plagued my mind, I managed to hold onto a few thoughts and formulated a basic plan. Knowing that every one of the creature’s eyes watched me, I maintained the illusion I was dead.

A number of the teeth pricked against my legs as I moved lower into its gaping jaws, sending shivers through me. When I caught a glimpse of its black, whipping tongues, I decided I was low enough. I slammed my boot, and the spikes attached to it, into the roof of the creature’s mouth, praying to Pyra some of them reached its brain. Assuming, of course, the brain was there. My calculated kicks turned into a desperate flurry of stomping, puncturing everything I could. There were black clouds of blood blossoming around me in the water. Every blow seemed to weaken its grip.

Somehow, I shoved my leg down the creature's throat, causing it to gargle and screech. The relentless pressure of the tentacle released from my waist and I wasted no time in swimming towards the light, through the black and red of our combined blood. It must’ve put a gash into my calf but I refused to acknowledge it or the pain. I just swam.

Please let her be alive.

I reached the surface, gasping for air, the falling snow landing on my skin. I managed to keep the sting from my leg at bay, but when I threw myself over the ice and tried to crawl, it was like a giant's hammer bearing down upon it. I collapsed, face down, onto the freezing surface. For a long moment I enjoyed the silence of the woods.

A low howl came from behind me. I found her lying still on her side, but breathing, near the rim of the lake. She must’ve moved further away judging by the streak of blood across the ice. Her eyes fixed on me. Blood soaked through her feathers and fur.

Her gaze and warmth revived a small amount of strength within me. I dragged myself towards her until I gently placed a hand on her head. Reaching into my coat I searched for a drawstring bag filled with a few key medical supplies. It’s still there. Her eyes never left mine.

Within the indescribable warmth something about her remained below the surface. Her sense of communication almost seemed telepathic. She wanted to know something about me.

“Reavus,” I said, weakly. “That’s my name. Reavus Waybourne.”

I could’ve sworn she nodded, slightly. Her free wing extended out from her body, closing gently around me before ripping a feather out with her mouth. She placed it on the bloodied mess of my leg. There was a distinct burning sensation under the feather where it touched my skin. When I moved slightly the charred feather fell onto the ice and sent a swirl of steam into the air. The gash was gone, a scar in its place. I struggled for words.

“How did you?...”

She nodded again.

I wrestled against my doubt, my disbelief, to move away from her and take a close look at her wounds. In the motion I noticed there was no pain coming from my chest, either. “Look,” I said, meeting her eyes, “I think it's my turn to take care of you, now, girl.”

And I did.

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