Faith, Hope, and Charity

To Be A Rider

When Unice and I leave the library, I slump against the wall and fold my arms across my chest. If Tress has her way, we leave the riders. If Tress doesn't have her way, we leave the riders. And we've been here for all of a day. I bring my fist up to my chin and stare at the cloudy sky.

"Do you think it's beautiful?" I ask.

"What?"

"The Aerie. The patch of sky you can see above the canyon wall. The stones all stacked together in great big buildings. The griffins that walk through the streets. And all the people. All these people who are as free as their griffins. Isn't it beautiful to you?"

"I prefer the blue of the ocean and green grass. And the sound they make as the wind drags its fingers through them."

"And how would you feel if you had to leave it?"

"I know what it felt like; I was taken from it when the slavers captured me."

I look down to the Aerie proper as a griffin jumps into the air. There's a leather-clad rider on its back, strapped into the saddle and grasping the reigns that hang from the creature's beak. They clear the edge of the platform and the griffin starts beating its wings. Not a moment passes before they fall out of sight.

I keep watching the airspace in front of the plaza, waiting. No one is yelling; if anything, they're only interested in seeing the next rider off. Apparently the first griffin flew down the canyon.

"Come on, I could use some spike berry jam."

"Tress said we should be ready for if the shade—"

"I don't have anything to prepare. It's just me."

We find Hope near the dining pits, inside one of the nearby kitchens. She has tied her hair back like she used to in Skarak's kitchen and is stirring a bubbling pot of yellow jam over a small fire. Korban is standing next to her, eating a piece of baked flatbread piled high with the jam.

"Faith! How was the library?"

"Unhelpful. How's the kitchen?"

"Wonderful. You know, for how terrible the tavern was, I definitely missed being able to cook." She says as she takes the pot off the fire and arranges a row of small clay pots. While she pours the jam into the pots, she asks, "What are we going to do with the rest of the day?"

I shrug, "I have no ideas."

"I could show you the hunting grounds. My dad is going there to get tonight's dinner soon. We could take you with us, if it wouldn't be too disturbing for you"

"Are you kidding? Skarak had me butchering when I was ten. Let's go!" Hope shouts as she puts the pot near a wash basin and the clay pots on a shelf.

"Before we go, could you hand me a piece of that flatbread and a spoonful of jam? Breakfast might have been an hour ago, but that looks good." I say.

After I've had a piece of jam-buttered bread, we follow Korban to the plaza where Isaac and their father is waiting.

"Korban! Good to see you, I was wondering if you'd decided not to join us." His father says.

"Hope insisted on making me spike berry jam." He motions towards her and she smiles shyly.

"Spike berry jam, huh? Could use someone like you in the kitchen. Apparently they think we only need bread and oats for everything." He raises his eyebrows. "And are you three coming with us?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Climb aboard." He waves his hand over the three griffins. "The name's Darius, by the way."