As the Dust Settles [Closed]

[Ambrosios]

The library was mostly empty, or at least it felt mostly empty. Not that Hawthorne was paying much attention. He wasn't in much of a state for observing one's surroundings. "Zoned out" was a good way to put it.

The university professor was sitting at a table with a book in front of him. But to be honest he wasn't even sure if he still was a university professor. He hadn't bothered checking. Perhaps the whole invasion and revolution by The Hollow had put that on hiatus. Or more likely he didn't care one way or the other. The griffon still hadn't had his beak manicured, nor attempted to thoroughly wash the brown dye out of his feathers. This, and the various feathers that had been yanked out, gave him quite the disheveled appearance. He looked much less like teaching material and more like something a cat had thrown up.

Hawthorne's eyes were looking down absently, less concentrated on the book in front of him than the hand that was flipping one of its pages back and forth. Just examining the little details of its movements, the odd sensation of making something move without actually feeling it. It was foreign. His left arm had been amputated after becoming infected and gangrenous, and only recently had it been replaced by a metallic prosthetic. It was very nice, built with joints and such so that it could practically replicate his missing limb. He wasn't quite sure how they'd done it, but apparently Gregoros had emphasized the importance of Hawthorne's well-being after Aeolus's sacrifice.

Mmm, Aeolus.

The griffon let out a sigh, glancing up from the book. He wondered how many other griffons would actually visit the library today. Most of them probably had better things to do.

[Red Charge]

"Hey..." He suddenly heard a whisper from the empty library, it sounded like it was right next to him, but yet echoed all across the walls, creating a strange effect. "Hey..." It said again, Hawthorne was unable to place where the whisper came from. It was strangely familiar to him, the whisper, but he couldn't place the voice anywhere recent.

"I did it..." The voice whispered again, this time it seemed to be moving away from him. "Over here..." The door to the library opened with a loud bang suddenly, but no one entered or left. All that happened was that Hawthorne was left in the empty room, now extremely chilly and a sense of foreboding crept up on him the longer he stayed. He suddenly felt strangely alone, in the scary fashion. He also felt watched.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of someone whispering next to him. Except they wern't whispering next to him, because there wasn't anyone there. The griffon's eyes darted around the room, looking for where the echoing voice could have originated from. But no such person was to be found.

"I did it..."

"Did what?" Hawthorne thought, looking over in the direction the voice seemed to be vanishing towards. And then the doors slammed open, by themselves. The professor stared blankly at the gaping door frame, starting to realize just how empty the library really was. Maybe it was time he left.

The griffon got up from his seat, making his way over to the door. Whispering voices, doors that open by themselves, yes. It was definitely time he left. If only for his own sanity.

[Red Charge]

As he left the library, the door creaked shut behind him, looking back he could see a sillouette of a griffon in the window, but it vanished when he blinked. A draft breezed past him, knocking him into a puddle of muck still from the fire extinguishing waters. He noticed wet griffon tracks leading from the tunnel towards another street, a side street. While not quite an alley and well lit, it was still eerily empty. In fact, the whole town seemed eerily empty. It seemed bizarre that only moments ago there seemed to be daylight and now the sky were almost pitch black.

"Are you coming?" A whisper in the wind asked.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne looked back at the library as the door shut behind him, spotting what looked like a griffon in the window. But in a moment it was gone, and a sudden breeze had soon knocked an unsuspecting Hawthorne into a mucky puddle. "Great," the griffon thought, pulling himself up and shaking some of the dirty droplets from his feathers.

Looking down, he spotted tracks leading from the puddle into a side street. An empty side street. In fact, the whole city looked empty, and dark. What was going on?

"Are you coming?"

"Coming where? What's this about?" Hawthorne asked, hesitantly flowing the tracks into the side street. He had no idea where they were taking him, but they were leading him somewhere.

[Red Charge]

The street was completely empty, not even as much as a sound was heard. The windows were not lit, was no one at home, or was it late enough that they were all asleep? The whistles of the breeze and his own talons was the only thing Hawthorne could hear. A sudden buzz caught his attention, one of the street lights near him went off, leaving him in partial darkness. It flickered once, as it did Hawthorne could swear he saw a griffon standing underneath it, but as it went on again the griffon was gone. He had not noticed, but he was now far from the main street and the other edge of the side street was still not in sight.

That's when he began to hear it - a set of talons approaching, though he could not tell from which direction, he only knew they grew louder and louder, the street was sloped, going back to the main street would mean Hawthorne would have to walk up at an angle. It was too windy now to fly safely.

The voice which he heard did not talk again, but the talons kept approaching, it became unbearably close, still without Hawthorne being able to locate the source, until it seemed to come from right behind him. At that point all lights went out at once, leaving Hawthorne in pitch blackness.

That's when he began to hear and feel the breathing on the back of his neck.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne continued down the street, finding the whispering voice had apparently abandoned. For an instant, he swore he saw a griffon standing under a flickering streetlight. Had it been the one in the library window? Or someone else? Maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him.

He began to hear talons approaching, though from where he had no idea. Something was approaching, and with the strong winds keeping him from flying and not knowing which way it was coming from, the professor had no idea what he could do. Not that he had much time to think about it. Soon all the lights had gone out, leaving him alone in a sea of black void.

Except for the breathing down his neck. That was rather unsettling.

The griffon scrambled in the direction he was facing, his first and only reaction to get away from whatever it was that was stalking. Right now he was wishing more than anything that he had just stayed in the library.

[Red Charge]

He stumbled forwards down the slope, rolling down as he went until he finally stopped someways down the street. The streetlights went back on all over, as Hawthorne looked behind to see if his stalker was still there, he saw a silhouette at the end of the street, looking down at him. As he got to his talons, he noticed the silhouette seemed rather threatening. He didn't know who that griffon was or what he was doing there but he seemed to just stare eerily at the griffon.

Until it started running towards him, at full speed, almost maniacally.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne ended up rolling down the street, probably as he should have expected. But at least the streetlights had come back on when he'd come to a stop. And when he did, he got a look at who had been stalking him. A griffon, a rather menacing one by the looks of it, but not close enough or with enough light to get a good look at it. Why was it chasing him? What did it want from him? Regardless of those answers, it had soon come barreling towards the professor, leaving Hawthorne no choice but to quickly pick himself up and continue running.

[Red Charge]

No matter how fast Hawthorne ran, his mysterious pursuer drew ever closer, he was too slow to elude him. The only thing that he could see in front of him was an alley he could duck into. Maybe he could lose his stalker there or at the very least hide. Outrunning his opponent was not an option anyway.

[Ambrosios]

Running away seemed of little use, as his the silhouetted griffon chasing him had little trouble gaining on him. Ahead there was an alley he could turn into, maybe hide in. Not like there was much else he could do.

The griffon quickly turned into the alley, looking around as he entered so he could decide what to do next.

[Red Charge]

And suddenly he found himself in Stone Valley, completely alone. He could tell time had passed since whatever happened to him did, but he had no idea how he got where he was, or why. All he knew was that his beak was bloody, his talons sore and that there was something very odd about the nightly breeze.

He could see another griffon walking with a torch some distance away, on a dirt road leading to, if Hawthorne wasn't mistaken a small family farm.

[Ambrosios]

Taking a few steps into the alley, Hawthorne soon realized that he wasn't in Royal Rocks anymore. He turned back around, finding nothing but the peaceful silence of the valley to greet him. How on earth had he gotten here?

There was blood on his beak. His perhaps? It was hard to tell. The griffon wiped some of it off as best he could with his non-metallic talon, rubbing what he could manage to take off onto the grass. He doubted the effort had been very effective.

In the distance Hawthorne could see a torchlight, a griffon traveling along the road. Good, maybe he could get his bearings. He still had no idea how exactly he'd ended up going from the Royal Rocks library to the middle of Stone Valley, or how he hadn't managed to remember his trip. Had he hallucinated? Or been drugged? So many questions.

The griffon flew off towards the traveling griffon, staying fairly close to the ground as he did so.

[Red Charge]

The griffon with the torch seemed not to notice him. Once he turned around at the sound of Hawthorne approaching, but he could see nothing past the light of his torch and carried on. He seemed to be carrying a sack of flour on his shoulder.

The griffon, apparently unnerved at the noise he heard earlier began to whistle a melody as he walked, Hawthorne could see his eyes turning round trying to spot anything in the shadows. He wasn't armed as far as the one armed griffon could tell, nor did he act like he was. He seemed in a hurry to reach the farmhouse.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne flew forward, curving towards the path a short distance in front of the griffon before landing. He didn't want to surprise the griffon in the middle of the night, deciding it would be best to let himself enter the griffon's view from the front rather than suddenly landing right next to him. The griffon didn't look armed, but Hawthorne still didn't want to startle him.

"Excuse me," Hawthorne said as the other griffon got closer. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm afraid I'm a bit lost. You wouldn't be able to tell me where in Stone Valley I am, would you?" the professor asked, examining the torch carrier.