Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (12 page)

The pace that Molar had placed proved to make
him look slightly undignified. As he walked, his legs and paws
remained stiff to ensure his vertebrae wouldn’t feel any pain. He
felt fortunate nobody else was around to see him waddle toward his
own home.

Waddling as thoroughly as he could, Molar
silently begged his father not to close the door on him. Almost
making it through the castle’s walls, Molar witnessed his father
had
shut the castle’s front doors; he could tell by hearing
a specific click—the click in which indicated the doors’ lock
sealing the castle closed.

As he heard the click, Molar stopped in his
tracks and let out a sigh. Feeling weariness pulsate through his
bones, he decided to rest his head on the castle’s outside walls.
All the while did he make an attempt at healing his spine by
holding it back against the wall behind him. Molar thought doing so
would help his back to heal itself.

Putting himself in a position where his front
paws rested on his knees, Molar allowed his limbs to rest on the
sandy ground. Although there was no amount of pliability in the
castle’s walls, it provided him with much comfort on his injured
spine.

Feeling himself lost in thoughts for what
seemed like only a few heartbeats, Molar began to hear the sound of
child-like laughter coming from the corner of the walls. Shaking
himself into reality, he took notice of each of his friends having
a peaceful conversation. Walking with them was a slightly harrowing
older griffin with a body twice the size of Molar’s.

Once the sight of his friends came into view,
Molar asked himself whether or not to walk up to his friends to
greet them.
I
am
feeling a bit sore, still.
This
statement rang in his mind as he became unaware of how his friends’
shadows had already beset upon him.

“Hi Molar!” greeted Caeo. Turning his head
over to the larger griffin—whose beak was resting upon his
shoulder—he explained, “This is my brother: Keok.”

After a short pause, Molar sighed just before
whining, “You won’t believe what I saw at a yavia earlier!” Without
waiting for anybody to respond, he continued, “My father told me
that the slaves there were enslaved because each one of them tried
to take over us.”

“Which they did,” Toakld pointed out. In
agreement, Mesd gave a quick nod of his head.

“But I don’t think
all
of them did
it!” Molar protested. “And who knows if the slaves will even
try
to rebel again? If they’ve really been working for us as
long as my father’s told me, then I think they’ve been punished
enough.”

Another pause of silence came into place as
Molar sensed something in his mind urging him to retreat from his
friends. A spark of worry flashed through his bones just before
Molar felt himself being clawed and pecked at by the other
griffins—almost without any warning.

Each of the griffins attacking him, Molar
found himself coming to a terrible realization of his own people.
Not too long ago had somebody thrown a limestone at his spine; now
he was being attacked by Caeo, Mesd, Toakld, and Keok.

All this had to do with one fact: Molar
disagreed with the majority of Mocrano. It seemed to him now that
the Mocranians were a very close-minded type of people. It was
while thinking of the close-mindedness of the Mocranians when Molar
released a great song of pain

Hearing his son’s song, Carpla popped his
head out of one of his home’s windows and took sight of his son
receiving a series of painful blows to many various places. He took
a pause in his business to take a short glimpse at his son—and
merely turned his head when his viewing was over. Taking no heed
toward his son, Carpla slowly walked over to the other side of his
home and made his way to a whole new room.

All the while did Keok quickly hold Molar
down by pressing his large paws against the young one’s shoulders.
Such a sensation brought Molar back to when he had done the same to
the human slave the day before.

Molar’s thoughts were interrupted when Keok
snarled, “If slavery had never happened then all the structures we
have today would have never existed. Would you rather live a life
where
we
had to do all the work
ourselves
?”

“N-no!” Molar cried with a stammer. His voice
gaining more stability than before, he continued, “But the
slaves—they could work with us if they wanted to.”

As these words sprouted from Molar’s beak, he
took sensation of Keok placing even more pressure on his shoulders.
He then released another cry of pain and listened as Keok raised
his voice and command to Molar’s former friends, “One of you go
inside the castle and grab a bag and a rope!”

“I’ll go,” Toakld volunteered before anybody
else could make a sound. “Do you want me to just pick it up from
Carpla’s castle?”

“Yes,” Keok seethed, hearing the sounds of
Toakld’s footsteps grow fainter and fainter with every passing
heartbeat.

Making his way through the walls, Toakld took
a quick glance at the beautiful plants surrounding him—thinking,
Whoa—Molar lives here?
It was then when he hurriedly made
his way to the castle’s front door. Without even knocking, he made
an attempt at pushing his way through the doors—only to notice how
he was already stepping on just what he was looking for.

Taking a look down, Toakld noticed what he
was stepping on was a bag with a rope—the likes of which had
already been shaped into a special knot around the bag’s opening.
After a short pause, he quickly scooped the bag and rope into his
beak and made his way back to Keok without a word.

Not even stopping to take so much as a wince
at Carpla’s small forest, Toakld picked up the bag and rope and
rushed over to his friends at a much faster pace than before. With
time did he come back to his friends, slightly enthusiastic yet
worried. He spat the rope and bag out of his beak upon coming
around to the corner of the castle’s walls.

“That was quick!” Caeo exclaimed as Keok
picked up the bag with his beak.

“I need you all to help me out!” Keok
grunted, struggling to keep Molar still. “I want two of you to drag
the bag around Molar’s body and scoop him through. Once he’s in the
bag, I want the last one of you to pull the rope until the bag’s
opening is closed.”

Quick to his word, Caeo and Toakld were the
ones to hold both sides of the opening to create a fitting area for
Molar to squeeze through. As quickly as he could, Keok removed his
paws from Molar’s shoulders, allowing the bag to cover up Molar
from his feet to his head. And with Molar captured, Mesd tied the
rope around the bag’s opening and gave it a tight yank.

Oh no! I’m stuck in here!
Using
whatever energy he had left, Molar made an attempt to escape from
his small, enclosed space. His first method was to kick at the bag
until its fabric tore open, but its leather proved too strong for
him to tear through. Another idea he had thought of was to use his
beak to cut through the bag. Unfortunately, an attempt to do so was
foiled when he remembered his spine was far too weakened to stretch
his back in such a manner.

As he felt the energy being sapped from his
body, Molar sensed a strange pulling which caused his mind to churn
with confusion. It was only a heartbeat after he began to feel the
pull when he realized not a single part of the bag was touching the
ground.
I’m being carried! But where to?

Without another word, Keok’s beak tightened
onto the bag’s opening and a piece of the rope sealing it. A great
gust of wind brushed through the children’s faces as his wings gave
a series of immense flaps up toward the sky. It only took a small
number of these flaps for Keok to find his paws no longer touching
the ground.

Feeling himself coming into the air with
Caeo’s brother, Molar wondered,
What’s he going to do to me?
There was a great number of punishments he could have received for
acting out against Mocranian beliefs—some of which he thought
proved crueler than necessary.

This particular ride through the sky found
Molar in a very uncomfortable position. It was worrisome enough as
it was that he had to care for an injured spine while it healed.
Matters only grew worse when he found somebody else flying him
through the air—all without allowing him any control to where he
was going.

In the course of thoughts, Molar let out a
great cry of pain when he felt his shoulder come in contact with a
Mocranian hut. Being made out of granite, no damage was dealt to
the small home—while, in contrast, an immense amount of pain was
placed onto Molar’s bones. It was not too long after when he felt
something scrape across his paw, nearly breaking off a toe from the
rest of his foot.

Through this short series of bludgeoning,
Molar found himself whimpering as he curled himself in the pit of
the bag. A stream of anguish surged through him as he grew more and
more curious to know what pain would be brought upon him next.

Fearing for another blow to come up against
him, Molar felt himself grow in weight as Keok made his way to the
ground. His head have a light hit to the ground as Keok released
the bag from his beak.

As the pain on his head started to fade away,
Molar took hearing of inaudible mumbles from outside his bag. He
found himself only making out a few words in the conversation,
causing a great deal of annoyance to form in his head.
I want to
know what they’re talking about!

Within time, however, Molar found himself
growing calm for the first time in what seemed like a year—only to
feel himself being carried once again.
Oh no, not again!
he
exclaimed silently, thinking he was going to have himself crash
into another home.

However, he began to calm down when he came
up with a relaxing realization. Judging by the way this creature
moved, Molar was able to tell it was a different creature carrying
him. Whatever had happened to Keok was beyond his knowledge—but now
all he could care about was receiving a moment without his mind
being inundated by worries.

By the sound of the creature’s grunting,
Molar was able to tell this was a male human. He could sense the
human’s hand gripping lazily around the bag’s opening—but there
quickly came a time when he had to wrap both of his hands around
the opening as the bag began to drag across the ground.

The sound of the bag’s fabric scraping
against a hard ground echoing in his head, Molar began to wonder
where this human was taking him. A more important question in mind,
however, was,
Where on Mocrano am I?
I’ve never felt
heard this kind of place before!

All around Molar were the sounds of moans,
groans, and cries of desperation. He couldn’t imagine what would
cause any amount of people to hold such resentment toward this
place.
Maybe they just have bad tastes,
he hoped.

As he heard a strange creak penetrate through
his skull, Molar asked himself,
What was that?
The question
was nearly asked out loud as Molar gave his body a great jerk of
surprise.

For only a second did Molar feel himself
being lifted off of the ground, only to notice himself coming back
down with a nosedive. Before he knew it, the bag concealing him
quickly went from tipping upwards to falling on its side.

Ow!
he screamed, urging himself to
keep his beak shut. After only a heartbeat of lying on his back,
Molar felt as the human tackled the already-grounded griffin to the
ground. It was just feeling such an awkward occurrence when he
began to hear something rubbing against the end of the bag.

A jolt of surprise ran through Molar when he
took notice of a hole into the bag—and seeing it as his path to
freedom, he pushed through it in an attempt for escape. Slowly
making his way toward the opening in the reopened bag, Molar
discovered the human who had carried him here was purposely pulling
the bag away from him.

Within moments Molar found himself rolling
out of the bag’s opening and crashing head-first into a wall. At
last did he release a scream into the air, unleashing all his
sorrows and pain. Before he could take a glance over his shoulder,
another creak was heard just before the sound of a metal
clang
rang throughout the room.

Hurriedly turning around, Molar noticed the
human who had carried him to this place had already taken the bag
away. He only had to turn his back for a second to sense a tugging
on the front of his throat. It was then when he realized human was
yanking his cloak off. As Molar’s cloak came out of its owner’s
reach, the human pulled his thin hand through two metal bars.

As a shock shivered through his spine, Molar
rushed up to the human just as he began to lock the small area in
which the little griffin sit. Backing away, he took a glance at his
surroundings, noticing how he was surrounded by a family of bars.
Each of them helped to create a cage-like cube around him.

Molar looked up to notice the human held in
his left hand a key-ring, a thorny club in his right. On the man’s
head was a dark-gray helmet—the likes of which covered nearly the
whole of his face. Finally there was his chest—which was protected
by a small series of interconnected rings.

Just before the human could take a step away
from his enclosed space, Molar’s beak poked in between two bars
when he asked him, “What’s going on? Where am I?”

The human stifled a hardy chuckle when he
sneered, “You’re in prison.” He shuffled the keys on his ring as he
continued, “A larger griffin came here with a bag and told me what
you did. He told me you were Carpla’s son.”

“Y-yes,” Molar stammered, “I am.” As these
words were spoken, he took notice of the human giving a surprised
look on his face.