Artemis Alder

The presence of the beast of the hour itself was declared by a deafening screech that shattered the stillness of the trees, heralding its grand arrival. Artemis instinctively crouched — a timely reflex too — for all of a sudden the grass was furiously blown back, bits of leaves and snapped twigs flying haphazardly towards his face. His hand shot out to shield his eyes. Too strong- Any much longer and he was going to get blown off his feet, his spine forcefully snapping on the tree trunk behind him. As the frenzied susurration of leaves finally came to a gradual halt, he made one practised swing of his black sword and straightened, thoroughly ruffled. Just as quickly as it had come, the wind had died, but in its place came something much, much more terrifying.[break][break]

Artemis felt himself stiffen. Eyes like onyx stones slowly slid up as vibrations rippled through the earth, pulsating against the soles of his feet. The griffon's massive head swung like a wrecking ball, a glistening beak nosing its way out of the treetop canopy, wings beating at thin air flared like flags. From tip to toe, it was nearly twice Artemis's height. He felt his heart start to race. A humourless laugh tore itself from his throat, as he cast a sideways glance at Yvel, registering how his mother had already produced her armour. So this was the creature they had to get past?[break][break]

Then the ground seemed to rattle like marbles in a jar once again, and with a sliver of ice sinking through him, Artemis realised there was more than one head and set of wings advancing towards them.[break][break]

Trees groaned with the weight, the whole of nature rumbling as two, three, no four griffons stepped away from their nesting place, furiously regarding the humans that had disturbed them such. There was no way he could take them all on with just one sword. And judging by Yvel's character, she was bound to want to push his limits, even if that meant throwing him to the griffons. Artemis let a ghost of a smile hitch the corners of his mouth, and with a much shriller, almost sing-song whine, calloused fingers pulled his aquamarine sword from its scabbard. It gleamed in the sun, singing victoriously of his summon, and as he brought both swords done to touch the ground by the tip, they seemed to glow with a renewed fervour.[break][break]

A chatter escaped from a griffon's mouth (it was impossible to tell from which one exactly) and all four of them cocked their heads at these flashy new toys of Artemis's, irritated by their presence. And for wild, untamed creatures like themselves, there was only one way they knew to get rid of all that irritated them. Artemis raised his head, weighing the swords in his palm, and in one fluid motion his right foot guided his weight backwards in his usual starting stance.[break][break]

"Try not to get hurt, Mother," he shot almost cheekily in response to Yvel's words, staring down into their yellow eyes along the sleek edge of his aquamarine blade. The moment Yvel snapped into action, a blood-red chain whipping out to bind around the body of the first griffon, Artemis kicked off, his swords a breathtaking blur as he threw the flat of the black against the face of another attempting to free its companion. Both Artemis and the griffon reeled back momentarily from the impact, and then he was off once again, zeroing down on the tender part of the exposed neck.

Yvel R. Alder