A Heart in Flames #2 (Howl's Moving Castle fanfiction)

Chapter 3: Pursuance of That Which We Love

She never liked magic. Moreover, she loathed it with a fiery passion, for she had a tenacious disdain toward those who possessed such abilities. They always looked at themselves so highly above humans and used their powers for purely selfish reasons. All in all, they were the lowest of scam artists and thieves.

She never liked magic - which made her reasons for riding on the back of a gryphon as he flew through the sky so logical.

"I cannot believe you convinced me to get on!" Gwenda screeched as she pulled at his raven black mane. Kenta growled in annoyance, though she didn't lighten her grip. He waved his head side to side, causing Gwenda to reach and hold as far down his neck as she could. "Stop moving so much. Just fly faster!"

Kenta kicked his large paws through the air as his majestic wings flapped with robust momentum. They flew higher in the air, which did not ease Gwenda in the slightest. She much preferred the bus system and trolleys to move between towns. Even the train would have been a fine alternative. However, a flying gryphon in the main cities when the majority of magical creatures were under Suliman's keep would be too obvious. They would have been spotted and taken for questioning or brainwashing or whatever that evil sorceress planned to do. It was safer to blend into those areas.

Now that they were in magic's territory, all bets were off.

Kenta nodded toward the clouds below them, but Gwenda couldn't understand his cryptic signals. Hopefully, he was pointing toward the ground so she could finally get off of him, yet that would only mean they had arrived at his cottage right outside the Wastes. She'd never been to his home before, and it only reminded her of the last time she saw her sister.

Yelling, screaming, but at least no one threw anything at each other that time. It was a permanent decision - Lona was to either choose the conceited wizard or the only family she had left. Gwenda always hoped she would apologize and come back, but Lona was probably hoping for the same thing. They were completely different - except for their shared pride.

Gwenda tightened her grip on Kenta's mane and pulled harder. He yelped slightly and she released, though it wasn't entirely an accident. He flew in a swift motion toward the clouds below and they passed through like a bubble popping without a sound.

"Where are we going?" she shrieked, though her voice was lost in the harsh winds gusting from their descent. He kicked faster until the ground was in sight. They had flown straight above the Wastes unharmed. Everyone knew that the Wastes began and ended with the little neighborhood of farming cottages at the edge of the Folding Valley, and Kenta's was one of them. He was as close to the Wastes as they could be without actually being there - and as far away from Kingsbury as he felt comfortable.

Kenta landed hard in one of the grainfields, shaking the ground with his might. A flight of doves fled from the fields, cooing as they exalted into the air - a perfect symphony. Gwenda didn't waste any time getting off of him. She let go of his mane and slid down the side of his back, tumbling atop the tall strands of wheat. She stood up fast and dusted herself off, sighing with relief that she didn't have to get back on there.

She turned around as Kenta glowed, his animalistic features slowly transitioning into his human form. His talons turned to hands; his mane shortened into his hair and beard; his large wings disappeared; and his beak pushed in, revealing the face Gwenda remembered.

Especially his scowling look. "Seriously? Pulling on my mane won't make me go faster."

Gwenda smirked and crossed her arms. "Actually, I think it did."

Kenta narrowed his eyes. "Well, it's not very nice."

"Let's just do what we came here for," Gwenda said and turned to the line of small homes. "Now, which one is yours?"