Sins of the Father - Chapter Thirty-One (Patreon)

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Chapter Thirty-One

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Krek kept his wing draped across the woman named Kathlyn long after she’d run out of tears to cry. She held her husband close, rocking back and forth between the gryphon’s sheltering feathers. Krek lifted his head, gazing around. An oppressive silence had settled in. No breeze stirred the leaves, no birds chittered from ruined eaves. The scent of blood smothered all everything. The sun had long since reached its zenith, and moved beyond it. It’s once pleasant warmth had become an uncomfortable heat against the gryphon’s ebony feathers. Nearby, the myriad sunflowers wilted and drooped, as though even they wept for the woman’s loss.

When Kathlyn no longer moved beneath his wing, Krek gradually lifted it. He withdrew his wing, revealing the woman huddled beneath his silver flight feathers. Kathlyn clung to her husband, staring blankly down the road. If not for the way she squinted against the suddenly harsh sunlight cast across her, she would not have reacted at all. Krek slowly folded his wing against his body, and still Kathlyn scarcely even noticed him. She held her lover’s body against hers with one arm, idly stroking his hair with the other hand.

The gryphon whimpered. He could not even imagine her heartbreak. Until he met Valar, he had never been so close to another before. Krek doubted anyone had ever truly loved him, save his mother. And in his childhood, she was far too often wrapped in her own heartbreak to see the slowly growing emptiness inside her son. Krek did not blame his mother, though. The gryphon loved his mother, and he knew that she loved him as her own heart. Instead, he blamed his absent father, the so-called hero. Krek knew him better, though. Krek knew his father as the bastard who carved out his mother’s heart, and cast it aside, then left her behind with a wound she could not close on her own.

At least his mother was doing a little better these days, Krek thought. She’d been so happy to see him come and visit her, and happier still when he introduced her to Valar. Krek knew all too well she feared her son would end up dead in some dark hole, a victim of his own bitter, hollow heart. The gryphon hoped his mother would never know just how close to that he’d come. How somewhere deep inside him, he wanted Valar to kill him, to end his empty life. Only the vast and immutable kindness in Valar’s heart had saved his life.

Krek blinked back fresh tears, trying to push such thoughts aside. He had far more pressing concerns than the sorrows of his past. The gryphon wiped his eyes with a forepaw, and took a shaking breath. The woman turned her head slightly, just enough to glance up at her feathered protector. Then she returned her gaze to the broken, blood-stained road, staring out across it.

“You should go.” The woman’s voice was little more than a battered whisper, adrift on an ocean of loss. “If they find you here, they’ll think…”

Though she trailed off, Krek knew what she meant. Whoever ‘they’ were, they might assume Krek had participated in the attack, rather than repelled it. After all, the land he was in was not especially well known for its tolerance of the world’s many non-human people’s. Hell, he thought, Valar’s own mother once waged a war against his country’s aggressive expansion. And while Krek’s people were somewhat more tolerated than Valar’s, their associations with humans within Illandra often amounted to mercenary work on behalf of bandits and warlords. After all, Krek himself once worked for an organized group of brigands. It would not be a stretch to assume the blood-soaked gryphon was now holding this woman hostage.

“It doesn’t matter.” Krek swallowed, flattening his ears. “Let them fill me with their arrows, impale me upon their spears. I…” Krek grit his beak. He pushed himself up onto his haunches alongside Kathlyn. “I made this man a promise, in his dying moments.” Krek gently brushed his paw over the man’s hair. “That I would protect you, in his stead. And I think…” His voice trembled. “That perhaps that was my purpose. That was why I was here, in this place, at this time. To protect you. So, I will keep that promise, and protect you I shall.”

The woman managed a bitter sort of laugh, a sound that twisted into a sigh. “Oh, Ihra. Of course you’d ask some beast to promise you that.”

“Gryphon.” Krek brushed his paws down the man’s hair again. “I’m a gryphon. And this man, even as his life left him, all he thought of was you. He could no longer protect you himself, and so he made me swear myself to your safety.” Krek swallowed, his wings shaking. “And thus, shall I protect you.” Krek took a slow breath, gazing down at Ihra’s body. “Just as he did. To the very last drop of blood.”

Kathlyn’s face twisted up. “You don’t have to do this, gryphon. You can just…” She idly gestured at the sky. “Fly away. Leave me to my grief.”

Krek lifted his forepaw, reaching towards her. His limb stilled. Though he wished only to offer a comforting touch, somehow it seemed wrong. “I cannot. Firstly, because I promised your husband.” He lowered his paw back down. “Secondly, because I fear what you might happen, where you left alone with only grief and sorrow as your cold companions.” His ears drooped. “What you might allow to happen.” His gaze lingered on the bloodied knife, laying near her. “What you might do, if left bereft of hope.”

The woman stiffened, a flash of indignation in her eyes. Her voice sharpened. “You don’t know me, gryphon.”

“Nor do you know me.” Krek slowly curled his tail around his paws. “I cannot profess to know your anguish, but I know hopelessness all too well. The bottomless pit of misery, a darkness in which they only light you see, is the end of your life. I have languished in that very darkness, and I have sought to end myself. I lacked the courage to…” The gryphon swallowed, his throat tightening. His vision blurred. “Simply fold my wings, to dive, and never pull up. So I sought to let someone else end me.”

Kathlyn sucked in a breath. She lifted her eyes, first to the gryphon, then to the dead men nearby in silent question.

Krek shook his head. “Not them. A dragon.” Krek took a deep breath, lifting a paw to brush his fingers over the scar upon his chest. “Who confronted me in my darkest hour, and shattered something deep inside me. I told myself that I would kill him, but in truth, in my black and bitter heart, I wished for him to end me. I could suffer that dark, empty hole in which I existed no longer. But when the moment came? When my life was in his paws?” Krek sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his paw. “He refused to take it. Instead, he showed me mercy. He saved me. And in so doing, he sat by my side in that wretched pit, simply so that I would not suffer the darkness alone any longer.”

The woman sniffled, stroking her husband’s hair. “We are not the same, gryphon.”

“We are not.” Krek slowly shook his head. “And I do not tell these things in some vain hope of convincing you I understand your pain.” He held both his forepaws up. “I do not. I will never understand your pain. But I do understand where your heart is, right now. I know that everything is darkness, and anguish. And I won’t let you suffer that alone.” Krek stretched his wing, ever so gently draping it across her once more. “So I will not go. I will not leave you. I will remain by your side, and keep you safe, until at last the darkness begins to fade.”

“You have…” Kathlyn hugged Ihra’s body tightly. “No idea of the enormity of what it means to protect me, gryphon.” She took a shuddering breath. “I-I appreciate it, I truly do. But whatever life you may lead, it will be far better for you if-”

“My life has been a search for purpose for longer than you’ve been alive.” Krek drew himself up, holding his head high. He stretched his wings out, mantling them. “To understand why my dear Valar spared a life as absolutely wretched and worthless as mine was. Valar has told me, time and again, that we all have a purpose to find. I could have come to search these ruins a week ago, yesterday, or a month from now. But I chose today. I chose this morning, of all days, of all times. I chose now to be here. The only time when I could have helped you. If my promise to your husband is not a purpose…” The gryphon gently set his paw upon Kathlyn’s shoulder. It nearly dwarfed her, but she did not flinch, did not pull away. “If you are not my purpose, than nothing is.”

Kathlyn lifted her hand, brushing her fingers across the gryphon’s. “You really believe that?”

 Krek watched her hand, her fingers ruffling the fine black fur of his forepaw. “I believe that I made your husband a promise. Beyond that…” He slowly pulled his wings back in. “Yes, I think I do. Even if we are not born for purpose, we can make our own. And so I shall. You are now my purpose. So I shall not leave. Scream at me, strike me, insult me, it matters not. I will not let you languish in this anguish and emptiness alone. I shall remain, and uphold my vow to your husband.”

The woman slowly shook her head, blood-matted hair swishing. “You have absolutely no concept of what you are pledging yourself to.”

Krek glanced around at the corpses littering the broken street. “I believe I have some idea.”

“You don’t.” The woman cradled her husband’s head in her arms, staring into his lifeless eyes. “But I suspect you caught my name.”   

“Kathlyn, right?” Krek lifted a forepaw, and pressed it to his chest. “My name is Krek, by the way. And your husband was Ihra, yes?”

Kathlyn nodded. “He was.” She slowly looked up at the gryphon, a hint of confused uncertainty etched across her furrowed brows. “Does my name mean nothing to you?”

Krek tilted his head, his ears splayed. “Should I?”

“No.” Kathlyn quickly looked away. “But if you truly wish to keep me safe, you’ll keep it to yourself. Call me Kat, or something.”

“As you wish.” Krek clicked his beak. Curiosity swirled within him, but he was unsure of his boundaries. “May I ask if you’re-”

“I’m no one.” Kathlyn spoke too swiftly, and too sharply, for Krek to believe her. She pulled Ihra’s body against herself.

“With respect, Kat…” Krek gestured with his wing tip towards the mangled bodies. “I don’t think mercenaries get sent after-”

“They’re just bandits.” Kathlyn glared at one of the dead men. Her stare was so caustic, Krek half expected the cadaver to burst into flames. “Nothing more.”

Krek swallowed. He really did not want to push this poor woman too far. He was happy to allow Kathlyn her secrets. And yet, it would be far easier to keep her safe if he knew what he was dealing with. “They aren’t, Kathlyn. I need to know-”

“Kat.” Her jaw clenched. “You should call me Kat. Or…perhaps Jillian. Something further from the truth.”

The gryphon brushed his paw across her arm, his voice soft. “Kat. Jillian. Whoever you are. I care not to pry into your secrets, but I have to know who I’m protecting from you from. These men?” He waved his wing at them, a dismissive gesture. “They’re not mere bandits. They’re organized. Their armor may look piecemeal, but when they all bear the same pieces? It isn’t patchwork, anymore. It’s a uniform. And…” Krek ground his beak. He stared down the street. Somewhere, in the distance, was a carriage surrounded by death. “They weren’t robbers, Kathlyn. They were kidnappers, at best. They were after you.”

The woman said nothing. She pressed her face into her husband’s hair, murmuring what sounded like an apology to him.

Krek idly kneaded at his tail’s fluffy tuft. “Kathlyn.” He spoke her name, just to try and get her attention. As soon as she looked up, surely intent on chastising him again, Krek cut her off, his voice as sharp as his claws. “Will there be more?”

Kathlyn’s shoulders sagged. The meager defiance that had built in her ebbed away just as quickly. She nodded, her eyes downcast. “Probably.”

The gryphon set his beak, his ears high, suddenly attuned for any sound out of place. He was not sure how long they’d lain in the road, while the woman mourned. It felt like hours. Still, he supposed if the attackers had backup waiting that nearby, they’d have already set upon the two of them. More likely, the others were holed up somewhere, along with whoever hired them, awaiting the kidnappers return with their hostage. When enough time had passed to make it clear they weren’t returning at all, the rest of them might set out to try and finish the job.

“We can’t stay here,” Krek said, his voice soft.

“You can leave any time you want, gryphon.” Kathlyn hugged Irha around the shoulders. “But I’m not leaving him here to rot in the street, just like…” She spat at one of the dead mercenaries. “Them.”  

The gryphon shook himself, his feathers bristling. “No, I suppose not. I’m not sure how well I can carry both of you, but I can try. Where do you want to take him? I can fly you home, wherever that is.”

“No!” Kathlyn cringed, looking away. “No. Anywhere, but there. I can’t go back, yet.”

“As you wish.” The gryphon sighed, staring at the sunflowers. A faint breeze stirred their drooping forms. “I just thought perhaps your families would…” He swallowed. “Want to see him, one last time.”

Kathlyn slowly shook her head. “My family would blame him for this. They would spit on his name, just as soon as they would bury him. They already thought him beneath me.” She whimpered. “We weren’t going to go back until after…”  Her hand settled on her belly as she trailed off. She was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t see them, just yet.”

Krek idly rubbed his curled tail with a forepaw. “I understand. So…” He worked his tongue around inside his beak, trying to decide how best to broach the subject. “You’re a noble, then?”

The hint of a smile cracked through Kathlyn’s gloomy façade, a ghost of bitter amusement. “Something like that.”

The gryphon wondered if they were traveling in order to hide their unsanctioned marriage. Human customs remained too complicated for him to easily parse. At least her noble bloodline answered one question. He could imagine few hostages more valuable than a wealthy noble family’s daughter. But if she did not wish to return to them, he would not force her. “What about your husband’s family?”

“Gone, years ago. A sickness took them both.” Kathlyn rubbed her face, only to stop and stare at the dried blood upon her hands. “Oh, Ihra…” She hugged him anew, whimpering. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Krek wanted to tell her, that this wasn’t her fault. But he did not know how to say as much without sounding patronizing. And he knew little of the circumstances surrounding their travels. If their entire journey was Kathlyn’s idea, how could he convince her that she was not to blame for her husband’s death? In time, when her grief had lessoned, perhaps it would be easier to convince her that those truly at fault were already dead.

For now, they had more pressing concerns. “Kathlyn…” Krek paused, amending himself. “Kat. I truly hate to force the issue, but we need to decide what to do with your husband. I cannot let you stay here indefinitely if there may be other men in pursuit.” He canted his head, waiting. When Kathlyn did not immediately reply, he tried again. “Also, a little while ago, you told me that I should leave because ‘they’ might think I was part of the attack. Who did you mean? Your family’s people? The authorities?”

Kathlyn sighed, nodding weakly. “They’ll be looking for me, too.”

Krek splayed his ears. “Already? How would they know you were attacked?”

“They wouldn’t.” Kathlyn stroked Ihra’s hair. “That’s not why they’re looking for me.”

Tingles of dread prickled at the base of Krek’s crown feathers when it suddenly sunk in. “You ran away together, didn’t you?”

“They never would have let us be wed.” Kathlyn stared blankly at her lover’s blood-smeared face. “So, we decided to elope. We left, in the middle of the night, just Ihra and me, with poor Dalvos as our driver. We were…” Kathlyn sniffled. “Only wed three months ago. We thought to see the lands beyond Illandra for our honeymoon. Stuck to the backroads and the forgotten thoroughfares to stay ahead of my family’s guards. We came through here because…” She waved at the vast, weedy pastures and oceans of yellow blooms. “Someone in a tavern a day’s travel from here told us about the sunflowers. They were always Ihra’s favorite. He wanted to see them.”

Krek swallowed, lifting his gaze to the drooping golden blossoms. “Then if there’s no where else we can take him, perhaps…” The gryphon’s mouth went dry. He lacked the strength to actually finish that sentence.

Kathlyn whimpered, staring at the flowers. “I think he’d like that.”

“I can…” Krek slowly pushed him up to his paws. “I can dig it for you, if you wish.”

She shook her head, tears running anew down her cheeks. “I don’t wish. But…” She hugged her husband tightly. “I can’t, so…”

“I understand.” Krek’s wings drooped. He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“Thank you.” Kathlyn reached out, brushing her hand across his foreleg. “For…everything.”

Krek forced himself to smile at her, his ears perked. “I wish I could have done more. I’ll tell you when it’s ready…” He took a few steps, then tilted his head when he spied the bloody dagger lying near her. “You’ll…” Krek paused, unsure how to approach the subject. A part of him still feared to what ends the woman might go to end her grief, while he protector was not here to stop her. “You’ll be alright, with me?”

Kathlyn glanced at the knife, her mouth set into a scowling line. “I promise, you bird, I won’t take the easy way out.” She brushed a hand across her belly. “I can’t.”

The gryphon glanced at her hand, then tilted his head, wondering. She turned away, and went back to cradling her lost love. For now, he had a difficult task to set himself to. Krek padded across the road, and put his front paws atop the battered stone fence that surrounded the old pasture. Countless sunflowers lay ahead of him, a sea of gently swaying yellow blossoms. Thistles with spiny leaves and purple blooms mingled amidst them. Krek scanned the field, seeking the easiest way towards its center.

Krek climbed over the wall, and pushed his way into the sunflowers. They were towering plants, some even taller than he was. Many had multiple blooms, brilliant golden eruptions swaying and bobbling all around him as he made his way through the field. Sunflower and thistle stalks parted all around him, like water beneath a boat’s prow. He stepped carefully, doing his best to avoid trampling them. However, there was only so much a creature his size could manage. A trail of bent and broken stalks lay behind him. At least, he thought, they would make it easier for the woman to follow him to the gravesite. 

He stopped near the center of the old pasture. Krek cleared a stretch of earth, grasping sunflower stalks and pulling them free, roots and all. Though he could have used his claws to scythe down, pulling the roots free would better loosen up the dirt. A few especially sturdy, spine-protected thistles edged the area he was clearing. Krek dug for their tap roots, removing them from below to avoid prickling his pads upon their nettles. He tossed the uprooted plants into two piles, one of sunflowers and one of the other weeds. If nothing else, the blossoms would make a simple tribute to the man who gave his life for Kathlyn.

When enough space was clear, Krek began his difficult task. The ground was hard, and tangled with generations of knotted sunflower roots. At least pulling some of them up had loosened the top most layers of soil, just as he hoped. The gryphon unsheathed his claws, and used them to dig deeply into the dirt. It was slow going. A gryphon’s forepaws were not designed for digging. They had dexterous digits for grasping things, and retracted claws that while sharp, were meant for slaying and holding prey, not carving through chunks of earth. Nonetheless, Krek made slow but steady progress.

Long before the grave was deep enough, Krek’s paws ached relentlessly. Every tendon burned, every muscle protested. As he continued digging, the ache spread up his front limbs, all the way to his shoulders. Some of his claws were chipped, and broken. Yet still he preserved. Krek refused to stop digging until at last the hole was deep enough. Great mounds of dirt soon surrounded him. Deeper down, the soil was softer, moister. Though progress came a little easier, it was no less punishing on his paws, and forelegs.

“That’s enough.” Kathlyn stood near him, staring into the pit. Krek had been so focused on his task, he had not heard her coming. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Krek glanced back at her, then at his own forepaws. Here and there, fresh blood mingled with the dirt that caked his pads. “I don’t think it’s deep enough.”

Kathlyn swallowed. She reached out, and set a trembling hand on the gryphon’s body. “It will do.” She turned away, walking back the way she came. “I’ll…I’ll get him.”

“I can carry him easier than you can.” Krek turned around, padding after her. His paws shouted a painful protest with every step.

The woman shook her head. “No. I…” She took a shaking breath as she climbed across the wall. “I need to do this.”

“I understand.” Krek grit his beak. “But he’s going to be very heavy for you. At least let me move him over the fence. You can carry him after that, if you wish.”

Kathlyn looked up at the gryphon. After a moment’s thought, she slowly nodded. “Go ahead.”

The gryphon scooped Ihra’s body up in his forelegs. With no life left in him, he felt heavier than before. A hint of stiffness had set into his muscles. Krek took a few slow steps on his hind legs, carrying Ihra to the stone wall. Once there, he leaned over it, depositing him on the other side as gently as he could. Then he hopped across the wall, landing just beyond Ihra. He took a few steps to give Kathlyn plenty of room.

“Alright.” Krek swished his tail, brushing it against the bent stalks of nearby sunflowers. “Whenever you are ready.”

“I could never be ready for this.” Kathlyn’s voice was soft, and shaky. She scaled the fence, and then crouched near her fallen lover. Kathlyn slipped her arms beneath him, and with a grunt of effort, stood back up, hoisting his limp form. “Oh, Ihra…” She took a slow, wobbly step, and then another. “Our last walk, together. I…I wish you could see all the sunflowers. They’re so beautiful.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she took another unsteady step.

Krek backed away, keeping a close eye on her. “If he grows too heavy-”

“He won’t.” Kathlyn took another step, and another. “My heart now bears the heaviest burden. Compared to that, Ihra weighs nothing at all.”

The gryphon winced, flattening back his ears. How desperately he wished he had something more to offer her than his supposed understanding. Yet Krek feared even that must ring hollow in her ears. How could anyone else ever understand her pain, in this moment? To carry her fallen lover to his own grave, when they were meant to be celebrating their love together? To be living their new lives, together. To anticipate together with breathless excitement their shared future. A life, and a future that neither of them would ever now. For Ihra, at least, his pain was gone. But Kathlyn’s anguish would last the rest of her lifetime.

Krek whimpered, and said nothing. What more could he say? Instead, he focused on ensuring Kathlyn’s short, but arduous journey was a safe one. He stayed a few steps ahead of her, flattening down sunflower stalks and tossing thistles aside. Krek pulled a few old stones from the earth, and cast them away. With every step, he made sure there were no hazards to trip her, no dangers lurking beyond her line of sight.

Kathlyn carried her lost love in a slow, grueling march. Her arms shook with exertion. Her face reddened. Sweat beaded upon her brow. Yet not once did she complain. Nor did she pause to rest, or catch her breath. Never did she ask Krek for assistance. She remained wholly focused on carrying the man she loved to his final interment. Krek marveled at her quiet strength. He shuddered to think how he would react, should he ever lose the one who cared for most. Somehow, he doubted he would handle such loss with the same quiet dignity, or determined strength.

At last, they reached the grave. Krek moved out of the way to give Kathlyn room. She slowly knelt down, laying Ihra’s body across the ground, on the edge of the grave. Then she brushed matted hair from his eyes, wiped dirt and blood from his face. Kathlyn hugged him tight to her body, crying again. Her tears cut lines through the grime on her own face.

“Oh, my poor Ihra…” Kathlyn kissed his forehead, sobbing against him. Her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She slowly looked up, gazing around at all the flowers, glowing with golden fire in the afternoon sunlight. “I wish you could see the sunflowers, Ihra. There’s so many of them. At least…” She sniffled, her voice breaking. “You’ll always be among them, now.” Her eyes wandered from drooping blossom to drooping blossom. “Even the sunflowers weep for you, Ihra.”

Even the sunflowers weep.

Tears brimmed anew in the gryphon’s eyes. Krek’s throat tightened. He cleared it with a growling cough, looking away. Earlier, he’d thought something similar about the sun-hued blooms. Yet somehow, hearing it put so eloquently by the woman who had lost so much made it a far more painful concept. Krek lifted a paw to wipe his eyes, only to pause when he saw all the dirt and blood that caked that. He stretched his foreleg, wiping his face instead with the relatively unsullied fur higher up his limb.

Kathlyn hugged the man’s body tight, kissing his head. “My dearest Ihra. I know not if you can hear me, wherever you may be. But please, know that I will always love you. My heart will always ache for you. Your smile will always shine, in my memories. Your laughter will echo in my dreams. Every beautiful moment we shared will be a blessing, and a curse. Every memory will hearten me and haunt me in equal measure. Your absence will ever be an unfillable hole within my heart. But I will always, always love you, and the world will ever more be darker without your light. Farewell, my dearest, dearest Ihra. May peace find you, wherever you are.”

She kissed Ihra’s head one more time, and then slowly eased him down to the ground. Kathlyn smoothed his hair, brushed her fingers across his closed eyes, held his cheek. Then she picked up his hand, staring at the simple golden band around his finger. She kissed it, and then placed his hand across his chest. Finally, with a whimpering sigh, she forced herself to stand.

Krek glanced at the man’s hand. “Are you certain you do not wish to take the ring, with you?”

“That one is his.” Kathlyn brushed her fingers across the matching band upon her own finger. “It should stay with him.” She gestured weakly at her husband’s body. “Can you… place him, for me?”  

“Of course.” Krek stepped down into the grave.

The gryphon scooped Ihra up into his forelegs, cradling his remains. Somehow, it felt wrong to lay him into his final rest without also offering his departed spirit a few words. Truthfully, Krek scarcely believed in any sort of life of death. Spirits, gods, mysterious beings of fate, all of them seemed conspicuously absent, far too often. Yet even he admitted, he could not know for sure. Perhaps something in the broken stars truly had guided him to this place, on this day, to save his woman. Perhaps the man’s spirit was right there, crying with his wife in an unseen realm. For at least a moment, Krek hoped he was.

“I’m sorry, Ihra.” Krek gently laid the man out in the grave. “Sorry I was not faster. Sorry that I could not save you, as well. My failure will ever haunt me. But…your wife is safe, at least. I’m glad you got to see her, one last time. And I promise you that I will keep her safe. That whoever she is, whatever it takes, I will protect her, or give my life trying. You have my word, Ihra, for whatever a black-hearted gryphon’s word is worth.” He eased his forelegs out from under the man’s body, taking a slow, shaking breath. “I swear to you on my own blood, that I will protect her.”

With nothing left to say, Krek climbed out of the grave. Kathlyn watched him the whole time, her brows furrowed. She looked at him as if he were some great, inscrutable puzzle to solve. Krek could only imagine her confusion. Why, she must have thought, did this beast wish so desperately to be her protector? Even Krek was not sure he could properly explain the answers he did not fully understand himself. But he had made a promise to a dying man, and he intended to keep it.

Eventually, Kathlyn returned her attention to the grave. She scooped a handful of dirt, and held it out. Then she froze, her arm trembling. “I…I can’t…”

“It’s alright.” Krek dug his paws into the loose earth, glancing over at her. “Do you want me to?”

Kathlyn squeezed her eyes shut, nodding in silence. Krek did as she wished, digging free pawfuls of earth, and pouring them onto Ihra’s body. The gryphon knew he could have simply pushed immense mounds of dirt in all at once, but somehow that did not seem right. Instead, he took his time, depositing a few pawfuls at a time. Kathlyn lowered her arm, but held tight to her fistful of dirt. Tears slid down her cheeks for several silent minutes. Finally, she opened her eyes again, looking into the grave. A thin layer of dirt now rested upon Ihra’s body. She swallowed, and slowly raised her hand once more. Kathlyn opened her fingers a little, and a trickle of earth cascaded down onto her husband’s body.

“Goodbye, my beloved.” She picked up another handful, and let it fall from her hand as well. “Goodbye.”

Together, the buried the man who gave his life to protect the one he loved. Krek could not imagine a more tragic, yet noble end.

When they had moved enough dirt to nearly cover Ihra completely, Kathlyn glanced at the remaining piles. She stared at them for a moment, then sighed. “Go ahead.”

With her permission, Krek worked faster. He pushed great mounds of earth into the hole, one after another. The gryphon’s body ached from the constant exertion, but never did he complain. All too soon, the grave had become a mound, dirt packed upon dirt. As the gryphon moved earth, Kathlyn busied herself collecting sunflowers. When all the dirt had been returned to the grave, Krek settled back on his haunches. His paws throbbed, and his shoulders burned, but at last the task was done.

Kathlyn knelt down alongside him, placing sunflowers upon the grave. When she’d arranged them all, she sat back on her heels, staring at them in numb silence. After a few moments, she lifted her eyes, looking around at the forest of yellow flowers and green stalks all around them. “I…I need to find a marker. A stone, or something.”

Krek ground his beak. “I think I should get you away from here. We’ve already spent a lot of time…”

The gryphon trailed off as Kathlyn completely ignored him. She pushed herself up to her feet, and walked back down the trail they’d laid through the overgrown pasture. Krek sighed, and followed after her. It didn’t feel right to force the woman to leave before she was ready, even if they were dangerous people closing in. Besides, carrying her into the sky without her permission might prove even more dangerous. If she struggled, he might lose his grip.

“I will help you with whatever you require,” Krek said, trailing her back to the fence. “But then you have to let me take you take you somewhere safe.”

“First, a stone.” Kathlyn stopped at the wall, inspecting. She tugged at a few loose bricks. Each was uniquely shaped, quarried from some distance away and stacked together to form a wall. They shifted beneath her grasp. Kathlyn appraised each of them, but found none suitable. She continued down the wall. “Then I must retrieve something from the carriage.” She paused, her face twisting up with fresh anguish. “And we should bury poor Dalvos, too.”

Krek lifted one of his forepaws. Several of his claws were chipped. His pads were bruised and bloodied. His forelegs ached from his fingertips to his shoulders. “I’m afraid I am not sure I can dig another one.”

Kathlyn hefted a long, flat stone, examining it. “A pyre, then. I should burn the carriage, anyway, lest it become a trophy.”

The gryphon followed her as she carried the flat brick away from the wall. “A trophy? Is that really what you’re worried about? Or are you just hoping to throw people off your trail again?”

The woman shrugged. “Both, I suppose.” Kathlyn slowly made her way back to the grave. “The people who did this…” She scowled, a maelstrom of dark thoughts swirling behind her eyes. “If there are others, like you said? They’ll want that carriage, at the least. I can’t let them have it.”

“Very well.” The gryphon settled down near the mound. “I will help you do whatever you must, and then you will let me take you somewhere safe. Do we have an agreement?”

Kathlyn gently laid the marker down upon the earth. She traced her fingers across it, whimpering. “There’s nowhere for me to go.”

Krek flattened his ears. He glanced away, swallowing. “I know a place. I live with…” The gryphon trailed off. Perhaps for now, he thought, he should keep the details to himself. “Someone who can help protect you, if it comes to it. I promise you, you’ll be safe there. And you won’t need to return to your family, until you’re ready to face them.”

“It needs an inscription.” The woman brushed her fingers across it, scrawling her husband’s name in invisible lines. “Maybe that dagger would work.”

“We don’t have time.” Krek gently put his paw against her back. “Kathlyn, we need to-”

“Don’t use that name.” Kathlyn stood and pushed his foreleg away. “It’s dangerous.”

Krek bristled, his feathers fluffed up. “Very well, then. Jillian, the anonymous peasant. We need to be gone from here. Let us get what you need from the carriage, set it aflame, and be on our way.” He held a forepaw up. “When it is safe to return, I promise you, you can have a real headstone made and inscribed however you wish. I’ll even carry it here for you.”

Kathlyn turned away, focusing her attentions instead of pulling more sunflowers free of their stalks. “I should make a wreath, first.”

The gryphon cringed. Every time he suggested they leave, she dreamed up some new task to occupy herself, instead. It was easy to see why. So long as she kept herself busy, she could put off facing the reality of life without her beloved. Digging graves, fetching headstones, lighting pyres, harvesting sunflowers…In their own way, they were all coping mechanisms. For now, she could convince herself she was still by his side. That she was still with him. But they left, once there nothing but silence and sorrow, the emptiness would settle in. It would finally and truly hit her, that she was alone now.

That her husband was dead.

Krek slowly stretched a wing, brushing its long silver flight feathers across her. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to leave him. That you don’t want to face what comes next. But…” He swallowed. “The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it will become. I stopped them before, but I had your husband’s help. Now, I’m worn out from battle, from digging. Even a gryphon has his limits. The more mercenaries who may arrive, the harder it will be for me to stand alone against them. You…” He tilted his head. “You understand that, don’t you?”

The woman’s shoulders sagged. The sunflower she was holding fell from her grasp. “Yes. I…” She took a trembling breath. “I’m sorry. You’ve…” Kathlyn wrung her bloodied hands. “Already done so much, for me.” She glanced towards the grave. “For us.”

Krek winced, his ears drooping. “Not enough, I fear.” His wings sagged.

Kathlyn slowly turned back towards him. “You did all you could, gryphon. More than anyone could rightly expect of you. Most people, I fear, would have just…” She waved a hand. “Turned around. Left us to our fates. But not you. You-”

“I would have,” Krek said, his voice bitter, and brittle. “In my youth. Hell, I’d have done worse. I would have waited until it was all over, and then I would have picked the corpses clean of valuables.” The gryphon’s whole body tensed, wings shaking at his sides. His silver crown feathers stood on end. “I am not a good person. But…I am trying to be.”

The woman stepped towards him. “What you were, doesn’t matter. This…” She swept a hand towards the grave, then pressed it to her chest. “Is what matters. What you do today, what you do tomorrow. The life you choose to live, the things you choose to do, with the time you have left.”

Krek gave a little warble. “Perhaps so.”

“In any case, I fear I’ve taken advantage of you.” She shook her head, sighing. “It is not right of me to further risk your life, simply because…” She turned towards the burial site. “I cannot let go of his.”

“You’re not letting go.” The gryphon draped his wing across her back once more. “You needn’t even say farewell to him, if you do not wish it. For after all, he’ll always be with you.” He placed a paw against his chest. “In your heart.” Krek dropped his forepaw back down, chirruping bitter amusement to himself. “Or someone such nonsense.”

To his surprise, that brought out a burst of pained, yet genuine laughter from the woman. “You don’t believe a word of what you just said, do you?”

“No.” He shook himself, fluffing up. “I do not. But it is my understanding that humans take comfort in that sort of thing.”

“Some of us do.” Kathlyn folded her hands, staring down at the grave. “What do gryphons believe, then? What do you take comfort in, when you’ve lost those you most hold dear?”

Krek stiffened, a cold coil of pain unfolding in his heart. “My beliefs are my own. I know not what other gryphons think. My poor mother, though…” He hissed under his breath. “She pines endlessly for my absent father. I fear she takes comfort in my visits, and little more.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Kathlyn slowly turned towards him. “You don’t have to tell me what you believe, if you don’t wish to.”

The gryphon rumbled, shifting himself. She saw through his deflections more easily than he’d anticipated. “Truthfully, I do not think my beliefs are appropriate, given your freshness of your grief. I am, however, thankful that I have not yet lost anyone I truly cherish. Were I in your place, I…” His gaze drifted to the headstone. For a moment, he imagined Valar’s name inscribed there. Something terrible shifted, deep inside him, a beast of unquenchable fire. “I fear I would become a creature of vengeance, with no other meaning in my life.”

Kathlyn ran a hand back through her hair. “I see. I’ll admit, right now? I understand the appeal. But, the men responsible are already dead. Perhaps that’s for the best.”

Krek gave a low, ominous growl. “There are others. When the time is right, if you wish to track them down-”

“There will always be others, gryphon. And my people…” Kathlyn drew her lips into a thin line, her gaze distance. She amended herself, slightly. “The people of Illandra have waged enough wars. I am glad those men are dead. But killing more of them won’t bring him back to me. I…” She opened her hands, staring at them. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. How I’m going to live. If…if I even want to live, without him.” Kathlyn sighed, pressing her hand to her belly. “But I will. I have to. For both of us.”

“Both of…” Krek glanced between the grave, and Kathlyn. For a moment, he assumed she meant in the metaphorical sense, that she would persevere because it’s what her husband would have wanted. But then it finally clicked. The gryphon sucked in a startled breath. “You’re pregnant!”

Kathlyn nodded once. “I am, yes. You saved two lives today, gryphon. So, whatever you think of yourself, whatever you did in your past?” She turned towards him, reaching out with a trembling hand to cup his cheek. “Today, you were a good person. Today, you were a hero.”

The gryphon swallowed hard, relief and guilt alike washing over him. Though he had failed to save her husband, at least he’d saved Kathlyn, and her unborn child. To think, he’d feared she might end herself, when faced with the loss of her husband. He hung his head. “I’m hardly a hero. I’m sorry I-”

“Today,” Kathlyn said, her sharp tone brooking no argument. “You are a hero, gryphon. A hero to me, and a hero to my child. And so, I suppose I can trust you.” She took in a slow, steadying breath. “I accept you offer. Help me finish my final tasks, and I will go with you, wherever you wish.”

Krek drew himself up. That this woman, this stranger, would place her trust in him buoyed his wounded heart, even as the burden of such responsibility left him trembling inside. “I promise you…” He lifted his ears, his voice solemn. “I know just the place to keep you safe.”