Griffin

There is no creature in Mythica quite so pleased with itself as the Griffin, and I say that with deep affection. From the front it is a great eagle: a hooked golden beak, eyes like polished amber, feathers that lie flat and gleaming across a broad chest. From the back it is entirely lion, with heavy haunches, a tufted tail, and paws that thump the ground like dropped sacks of flour. The join between the two is seamless, and the effect is of an animal that has taken the very best of two kings and decided to keep both crowns.

Wild Griffins nest on the highest peaks and patrol territories so wide that I have watched one cross three valleys in the time it took me to find my notebook. They perch on bare summits for hours, simply looking. I assumed at first they were hunting. Now I suspect they are admiring the view, and themselves in it.

The Mystery of the “Stone Feathers”

In every wild Griffin nest I have managed to reach (two, at great cost to my knees) I have found small, flat, smooth stones laid in a careful ring around the eggs. They are always river stones, and the nearest river is always a very long way below.

The Centaurs of the high plains, who have shared their grazing land with Griffins for generations, told me that the stones are a dowry, carried up by the male to prove he can lift the weight of a family. A Griffin-keeper at the Academy aerie, a gruff old Human named Harrow, scoffed at this and said the birds simply like smooth things to sit on, the same as anyone. A third explanation came from a young cadet, who whispered that the stones are “what’s left of the knights who failed the roster.” I have not been able to look at a river stone the same way since.

On the Matter of Bonding

A Griffin bonds for life, and it knows it, so it is in no hurry. The Centaurs say that a Griffin chooses its rider the way a matriarch chooses a war-captain: by watching how you behave when you believe you have lost. Their young warriors climb to a nest, fail to impress the Griffin, climb down again, and repeat this until the bird decides their persistence is worth something. Some climb for years.

The Midlands Grand Academy is somewhat less patient. Earning a place on the aerie roster is one of the highest honors a young summoner can achieve, and every autumn the hopefuls line up in the aerie courtyard while the Griffins walk slowly along the line, inspecting them like a general at parade. I had the great misfortune to be standing nearby during one such inspection. A large female paused in front of me, studied me with one amber eye, then the other, and then very deliberately stepped on my foot. Harrow told me this was a sign of interest. My foot told me otherwise.