Eternal Beasts

A Desperate Bargain

Again the book paused.

- That's why you don't see griffons in the skies above the Caer Nerath but you do see dragons, - it explained.

- Okay, so they're gone. I'm guessing the trials you were talking about will magically restore them, - Jared said thoughtfully.

- Very good, boy. You've been paying attention, - the book said with satisfaction in its voice. - Yes, you will restore them. Starting with your own mount, hidden in magical stasis amongst the relics at the shrine we are traveling to. -

- Magical what now? -

- Stasis, - the book repeated. - You see, as the Tuatha drew back and tried to save as many griffons as they could before the dragons wiped them out, the last Lord of Griffons and the High King of the Tuatha came up with another bold plan. One that would see the griffon flights restored in the future to fight the next War of Balance that would surely come with no clear victor from the one they had just fought. -

- More recruitment? - Jared wanted to know.

- In a manner of speaking, - the entity replied somewhat vaguely. - You see, the Tuathan High King and the last Lord of Griffons both could sense your potential as the next Lord of Griffons floating through the ether. And they knew if the Creator were to allow you to be born here, on Ethaeron, you would be immediately hunted down and killed. So they needed to hide you, preferably in a place the Harbingers couldn't reach. -

- Well, they failed there, book. Those cholim found me easily enough on Earth, - Jared grimly pointed out as he plowed through a particularly high snow drift.

- Not so, Jared, - the book countered. - It took them over five thousand years just to locate the planet on which you would be born out in the multiverse. Then your lifetime to actually find you. And that was with the entire resources and magic available to them, which, if I had to say, is considerable. -

- Fair enough. So, if I was supposed to be born here, how is it that I wasn't? - Jared asked.

- More magic, some of the most powerful spells that were ever cast, - the book said. -

It went on to explain that while many of them had been slain in battle, the nysim still boasted some of the most powerful magic users in all of the Races of Light. When asked by the High King and the last Lord of Griffons if they would help, they agreed.

But such a spell had a price. In order to cast it, they needed a conclave, or a group of more than six casters, whether wizards or sorcerers, it didn't matter. And they would expend considerable life force in the process. So they asked for certain guarantees in exchange for what would basically be their lives.

- Guarantees? - Jared repeated with a frown when he heard that.

- Assurances of certain concessions, - the book began before the human cut it off with a gesture of his hand.

- Yeah, I know what the word means, book, - he growled. - Let me put it this way: what kind of guarantees? -

- Ah. Well, you might want to hold onto something because the next part might come as a bit of a shock, - the entity warned.

- Just say it already, - Jared urged. - I've been muscle trained by homunculi, thrown across a dimensional barrier to an alien world, dropped in a hole and tortured to death multiple times by a necromancer, escaped dragons using portal stones, and driven insane by having stored genetic memories unlocked all at the same time. And, on top of all that, I have a book talking to me inside my head. -

He grimaced.

- At this juncture I doubt much will shock me! -

- Fair point, - the book quickly conceded. - As Lord of Griffons, you are fated to gather a new flight and lead it against the Harbingers in the next War of Balance. This, you know. What you don't know is the conclave wanted guarantees that the first of your new riders would not only be nysim. But sired by you. -