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Seeking a Path	By : mancer Category: +G through L > Gargoyles Views: 4039 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gargoyles, I make no money from this story. My own characters are my own creations, with no intended resemblance to another.

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Cailean buffeted himself against the wind and rain. Avalon retaliating all it could.

Something caught in his legs. He kicked at it until he realized some stroke of luck had caught his cloak on a foot talon. He kicked it up so he could snag it on an updraft.

The oilcloth felt a hundred times heavier with the all the wicked moisture.

He fought the unnatural wind with the last of his reserves. On and on it went, seemingly endless sea of mist and lightening.

Then nothing. The air broke into a bright clear night. The shock of it left him breathless. He faltered in the lack of wind and sank down to the ground. His legs gave out under him.

He did it.

Free of Avalon's wrath. Actually used the Magus' spells. A new hope. A new body. A new life.

The enormity of it sank in at about the same time he finally looked up and noticed the skyline.

His fingers shook, numb with exhaustion, spell burn, and shock. He pulled the familiar weight of the cloak back over his shoulders and drew the hood up over his new horns.

Castle. Goliath had said that the old castle had been brought to this new time, brought above the clouds.

This castle that his spelled raft had taken him too a castle so massive it looked as though it could encompass an entire country. More fires burned in windows than he had words to count them with.

And Gargoyles. He groaned. Why had he run from them?

In his minds eye, the flash of a familiar purple face flickered through his mind. No, he had to have been imagining that. The world had more in it than he could know. What chance had he that his skiff would follow Angela's?

An ache started in his heart again. No, he couldn't go back. He needed to start a new life, explore.

He looked back towards the last of the mist boiling off. He could go back for the skiff. It'd take him anywhere he pleased, if it held. If he could keep casting the spell.

No. He had his own two wings. So what if he didn't have as much experience in the big world. Now he could get it.

Time to take that first step.

His legs shook, but held. He'd need food soon. Even with stone sleep, if he didn't feed his body, it wouldn't have the energy reserves to deal with the massive spells he'd cast.

He checked the cloak and started walking. He remembered the stories that the Magus had taught him. Not all humans loved Gargoyles. He wouldn't be able to trust them.

He couldn't see the stars to divine north, so he chose a direction at random, headed towards the bright lights.

Wagons traveled along black stone streets without the aid of horses. Humans traveled about in teeming masses. So many humans. They bumped into his shoulder and passed without noticing him.

Droplets of water tapped along Cailean's hood. He looked up as the honest, natural rain fell from the sky. He smiled up to revel in it.

As the water started falling in sheets the humans disappeared, ducking under sections of the castle that overhung for the purpose, apparently, or into the massive building itself. The solitary gargoyle continued along, enjoying the hiss of the water as it tapped along the metal wagons, the ground. He even let his hood fall back, once he realized no one shared the streets with him. So quiet in this strange city.

Water pored from an open section coming off of a corner of a building. Cailean dipped his hands into the stream to drink from it. The water had an unpleasant taste, but his belly growled at the first touch. He sucked down as much as he could as fast as he could. He felt sick from the water, sloshing heavily in his stomach.

A short shout shocked him just as he was bending for another mouthful. Cut short by a loud smack.

He pulled his hood close. Muscles vibrated. The urge to run into whatever fight happened to be going on, rescue whoever needed rescuing.

No, these weren't his nest brothers and sisters.

But that siren call. Someone needed him. Needed his help. He growled and ran towards the sound of pummeling.

Cailean jumped into the fray without pausing; easy enough to tell victim from aggressor by who's fists were beating up whom.

He lifted one human by the collar and tossed him into what, by the smell, had to be a rubbish receptacle. Cailean shoved his way into the next one. The second one fell away but the third stood his ground, a long baton in his hands.

Cailean growled. He could feel his eyes glow as the world reduced to the human, naught but a child but no less dangerous.

The youth swung the baton. Cailean ducked underneath the swing easily. It stuck a stairwell chasing up the side of the building with a loud metallic clang. He jumped back and circled around, more cautious now. The human held a metal baton, not a wooden one, which would hurt much more.

The human followed him as he circled, jabbing occasionally in the air.

Flashes of memories, the few occasions when Cailean had watched the others playfight. He tried making a grab for the human's wrist, received a blow to the chest.

He staggered back, the pain on top of a fresh wound too much for him. The human loomed over.

�You monsters aren't so tough.� He raised the bar again.

Cailean raised his arms to protect himself just as a glass bottle fell on the youth's head. He crumpled.

�Damn kids.�

An older human, maybe as old as the Magus was, but far dirtier, glared at the fallen human. His wrinkled, burnt face already swelling on one side, bleeding under the matted hair. He looked up.

�Damn me.�

Cailean pulled the hood back up too late. This human had seen. What to do?

A gape toothed grin assured him that this one wouldn't be the next to pick up the baton.

�Damn me. I never thought I'd save one of your like.�

He kicked the youth. His downed fellows started to move. A strange wailing, a banshee, called in the distance, growing louder.

�Come on. Follow me. We've got to leave before they come to.� The old man turned out to be amazingly spry. Cailean followed through the odd catacombs of refuse between sections of the sections of the castle, now more obviously different building that made up the outer reaches. If those building touched the stars, the central building for the king must truly be terrifying. He paused to gaze up at the endlessness.

The old man grabbed his taloned hand and dragged him along.

The screaming sound quieted before the urgency of his steps slowed.

They ended their run in a great cavern. Some fires in little braziers dotted the area, small dark figures bent around them.

�Here. We're safe.� He pulled Cailean around and tugged the gargoyle's hood gently down.

Cailean flinched as a calloused finger tested one of his horns; he wasn't used to body contact of any kind, let alone from a strange human.

�They're real. You're real. So many of us have been saved by you people.�

Cailean's legs vibrated and finally gave out. He fell heavily on his knees. Safe. He could rest now. He blinked.

�You okay? Hey! Someone get the...�

Consciousness returned with a burning down his throat. He coughed.

�Sorry, not the best, but we brew our own here. Take another slosh.�

Alcohol. Spirits. The taste was worse than the smell, but the burn warmed to a gentle glow in his stomach. His friend eased him upright. Spots swam in front of his eyes. A glass bottle pushed into his hands. He took a long draw from it.

�Easy on that.�

A cluster of of concerned human faces, all surprisingly worn.

�Is 'e awwight?�

�Don't know. Took a hard blow.�

�Ne'er seen one of 'em close-like.�

�Not close and not kissing ass, ya mean!�

�Give him some air, will you? Are you okay?�

�Yes, just... I just need something to eat.�

�Ha! The monster needs some food. Hey Charlie! Bring some burgers over!�

�Burgers?� Cailean couldn't decipher the word.

George, as the old man finally introduced himself, explained processed meat while some of the others retrieved it. Once Cailean started eating, he had trouble stopping. He ate more than his fair share, but everyone felt proud to fill his stomach.

While he ate, they took turns explaining each of their stories, how the local gargoyle clan had saved one or other of them, countless times. Usually the younger ones, sometimes the older ones. The homeless felt that the winged monsters were their guardian angels; no one else seemed to look out for them.

He didn't feel like he could explain that he wasn't a part of the clan that had saved them, doubted they would listen even if they let him get a word in edgewise.

After hours spent with them, he felt the familiar itching between his wings that heralded the coming of dawn, a trait that none of the others on Avalon seemed to have.

�Thank you for your help, but I have to get some place safe.�

�You are safe here, my friend.�

�I... need a place to sleep. For the day. I can't be disturbed.�

George smiled and helped steady him to a pallet in a crevasse between a raised section of ground and two walls.

�Here, my bed. You can use it for the day.�

The unseen hand of the sun put more pressure on the gargoyle.

�I'll stay near-by,� he said and sat down against the wall. He pressed his body as tight into the corner as possible, as small as possible. �Good day, my friend. I'll be safe, but please don't disturb me.�

�Yeah, suppose we could all use a good night sleep, yeah?�

As George turned back after grabbing a musty blanket, he dropped it in shock at seeing the young gargoyle turned to stone. He waved his hand in front of the sightless eyes but didn't touch him.
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Seeking a Path