Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (7 page)

Soon came the day when Molar decided to once
again take a look around Mocrano. Although not entirely, he could
remember quite well how the city was the last time he had exited
his father’s walls.
All those people I had met; why didn’t I
ever see them again?

After such a long time of holding himself
captive in his own home, Molar began to grow curious of the outside
word. His natural curiosity caused him to believe the world
surrounding him changed as rapidly as he himself did.

Nothing holding him back, Molar finally went
back outside. With his bones stronger than ever before and his
wounds from last time finally healed, he felt as if he could take
on any challenge the foreign lands threw at him. With all these
thoughts in mind, he picked himself up from his father’s carpet and
walked up to his home’s exit.

Upon coming up to his father’s front doors,
Molar pushed the incoming obstacles open with ease.
Hey! I’m
getting better at this!
After which he sped past his father’s
garden and out to the ever-expanding world in front of his
face.

Within a matter of heartbeats would Molar see
disappointment washing over his gaze. For starters, almost nothing
about the outside world had changed—and to add to this, neither of
the three griffins he met last time were anywhere in sight.

A small pout surpassed Molar’s shoulders as
he decided to move on forward.
I guess I’ll go to that pool of
malid
, he decided. Passing through the same scenery as he’d
seen days ago, Molar ignored all the detail surrounding him.

With time did Molar find himself in front of
the pond from which he had first sighted the fish he had eaten all
those days ago. He looked carefully into the malid and saw his
reflection. Because it had seemed an eternity since he last peered
into a pool of any kind of liquid, he first found it hard to
believe he was looking at himself.

No longer did his beak take up almost all his
face; it seemed almost as if it had shrunk. A hint of curiosity
blinding his gaze, he held up a foot in front of the reflective
liquid—only to see that they, too, appeared to have shrunk. The
only thing which seemed to have grown were his developing
wings—which were growing folds out of what had once been nothing
more than two sticks. Lightly did he touch one of his shrinking
toes to the malid and witnessed as a ring interfered with his
reflected image.

After tinkering with the reflective green
liquid, Molar decided to take a drink of it. Dipping his beak
almost all the way into the malid, he let its bland taste engulf
his beak just before allowing the moisture to seep through his
throat.

Once past his throat, the malid would give
his bones strength and texture—so now nothing would be able to
break them. Instead of gathering up in Molar’s nonexistent stomach,
the malid would stick to the drinkers’ bones with ease. Such a
process was done not only for strength, but also to keep the bones
sticky enough for the dusty food particles to attach to them.

Taking one last sip of the malid, Molar wiped
some of the moisture from his beak just before walking across the
pool. His paws nearly coming into the green malid, Molar took sight
of a few rather large fish—noticing as their scales sharing the
colors of marigolds.

Now around the pool, one more step caused
Molar to trip over what seemed to be a lump in the gray, sandy
Mocranian ground. “Whoa!” he simultaneously screamed as a shock
spread from his toe and up to his ankle. A small bout of
infuriation spread through his bones as he fell on his face.

With a grunt did he pick himself up, looking
back at the lump just before scratching at the earth surrounding it
with his oversized paws. Using his eagle-like beak, Molar picked up
what he first believed to be a rock. With a few more tugs, however,
did he find himself almost having to stand on his rear paws just to
take this stone out of the ground. Wondering what it was that he
was holding in his beak, Molar tossed it onto the ground.

Molar paced over to the object he had just
thrown, noticing that it was actually a long, dusty bone. He
noticed how the bone was much drier than any he had ever seen;
fragility and thinness covered it on every grid that was once
white. Even with all this in mind, he wasn’t sure what kind of bone
this was—or even what animal it belonged to—at all.

It hadn’t taken long for him to grow bored of
nature’s artifact.
It’s just an old bone.
Leaving it behind,
Molar decided to go and run some energy out of his body—moving
faster and faster with every passing heartbeat.

Soon Molar found himself speeding up to the
point where his legs started having trouble keeping up with his
carried momentum. Even with this fact in mind, he continued to push
himself forward, rejecting rejection itself.

Zipping past many Mocranians and working
slaves, Molar came to a stop when he took sight of a cliff. Such a
beauty sparked wonder and millions of new thoughts into his mind.
Of these thoughts was an interesting, but ridiculous idea—yet
brilliant to the untrained mind.

Molar took a look at his wings, and then up
at the cliff again.
My wings are starting to get a bit big;
maybe it’s time I put them to the test!

In a heartbeat, found himself Molar an eighth
of the way up the cliff as he continued to chase the sky via this
landslide’s bridge. Allowing his paws to curl around the edge of
the cliff, he thought triumphantly,
This is it!
At the spark
of his thoughts, he ran down the hill, careful not to fall off.

While the urge to fly slowly consumed his
mind, he knew he couldn’t have done this on his own.
I need to
find my friends; they
have
to see this!
This thought in
mind, he let his paws carry him through Mocrano, feeling the breeze
blow through his bones. The first of his friends he would summon
would be Mesd.

Once again did Molar skip through Mocrano as
the sound of multiple voices buzzed in and out of his earshot.
Taking no heed toward a single one of these voices, he realized he
hadn’t any idea where either of his friends lived.
I’ll just
have to get lucky!

Now with this knowledge in mind, Molar slowed
his pace down slightly and listened for any sign of his friends’
presence. While Molar found his chances of actually finding them
very slim, his desire to have his friends watch him pushed him
forward.

With time did Molar find himself rushing
through a valley of castles—and soon to a valley of Mocranian huts.
Molar hadn’t any idea of his friends’ backgrounds; whether they
were rich or poor was beyond his knowledge. Whether or not luck
decided to be on his side seemed a troublesome thought.

Cough cough
, called a familiar voice.
Mesd?
Such a thought brought his feet to an immediate halt.
Upon stopping did he turn his head up and down and all around until
he took sight of his muted friend.

“Mesd!” he called out, coming break-to-break
with his friend.

With a weak cough did Mesd wave to Molar.

“Come quick!” Molar hastily demanded. “I’m
going to start flying today!”

Without any words did Mesd express a shiver
running down his spine. Whether or not such an action was performed
for the sake of fear was beyond Molar’s knowledge. Rest assured,
however, Mesd pointed one of his lion-like paws toward a direction
unbeknown to Molar.

“Are you pointing toward Caeo and Toakld so I
can meet them? Because—that’s just what I was going to do. Let’s
go!”

With Mesd in the lead, the two griffins’ paws
dragged through the ground. “Let’s see if we can find Toakld,”
Molar commanded.

Still in the lead, Mesd gave a quick nod in
response. Both of the two boys ran almost twice as fast as
frightened cats. Had they actually known how to fly, it would have
taken them half the time to reach Toakld’s home than on foot. Such
was the burden of Molar’s thoughts.

--

It had taken awhile, but Molar and Mesd soon
came to a point where their paws were far too weak to carry on
without a break. Soon did the two griffins find their running pace
come to a dramatic slowdown.
How long have we been running?
wondered Molar.
And just how far is Toakld’s home from
here?

Without any warning did a pool of malid catch
Molar’s eye. Without hesitation did Molar tiredly asked his friend,
“Do you want to take a break? Because
I
could sure use
it!”

Looking over at Molar, Mesd allowed a pause
of silence to slip between him and his friends just before nodding
his approval. After which did he lose whatever strength he had left
in his legs—crashing to the ground as a result.

At the sight of such a pleasant and necessary
reaction, Molar allowed his feet’s acceleration to slow down until
he was left with nothing but absolute stillness.

During this time of rest did the two young
griffins heal, taking a few sips from the malid. Such was the time
in which their bones quickly healed from the much-needed zest the
malid gave them. Once ready to restart their paws in yet another
race to Toakld’s home, Molar and Mesd lurched toward their
destination with as much precision and speed as possible.

Had Molar picked somebody—anybody—over Mesd,
he could have had a nice conversation during this run. But because
of his foolish decision to choose Mesd in the midst of millions of
other Mocranians, the only person he could have had a conversation
with was with himself.

Whoa!
Without any warning did Mesd
stop dead in his tracks—all the while in the midst of an army of
Mocranian huts. Fighting against every urge to trample over his
silent friend, Molar just barely stopped on a dime right behind his
friend—nearly tipping Mesd off his feet at the same time.

A smile on his face and a pointing gesture in
his paw, Mesd located Toakld’s home.

“You found it!” exclaimed Molar. Without
another single word did the young griffin march up to the small
home.
After this it’ll just be Caeo we have to look for; then
it’s back to the cliff!

Raising himself on his hind legs, Molar
popped his head through one of the hut’s windows and called out
into the small home, “Toakld! Toakld—are you there? Toakld?” Much
to the young griffin’s dismay, the house was emptied of all
life.

Denying denial itself, Molar pulled his head
from the window—turning his gaze on Mesd all the while—and asked,
“Are you sure this is where Toakld lives?”

Slightly afraid, Mesd gave yet another nod.
Had he done something wrong; was Molar to do something to him? He
would never know for sure.

Disappointment showered over them once they
had discovered their friend was not home. Slightly irritated, they
trotted away from the castle, now making their way toward Caeo’s
home. What would make this task even longer the necessary was the
fact that Molar and Mesd would have to pass Carpla’s castle in
order to meet up with Caeo.

Passing alleys of slaves and Mocranians
selling goods, Molar and Mesd found themselves in a nobles’
neighborhood. In a dark-red castle they had found Caeo and
convinced him to follow them to watch Molar fly for the first time.
It was before such an even could occur, however, when the two boys
who had worked off their paws just to reach Caeo took a long break
before a single footstep toward the cliff could be made.

Taking what seemed like an eternity, the
three griffins were finally able to find their way to the cliff
Molar had told them about. Once there, Molar took a glance at his
two friends, telling them excitedly, “I can’t wait to start
flying!”

A spark of sympathy lit up in Caeo’s mind
when he murmured, “Good luck, Molar! I can’t wait to see this!” A
pause came to his words before Caeo continued, “You know what? I’ll
join you! I wanna see this from up close—and
then
start
flying with you! What about you, Mesd?”

A brief shake of his head told the other two
griffins his thoughts.

“Well, okay Mesd. You just stay down here and
watch us!” Not another word sprouted from Caeo’s beak when his
weary paws sprinted over the cliff’s spiral-like path. Even with
such immense power and anxiety within his feet, Caeo was passed by
Molar—who was travelling with even more speed than what Caeo could
handle.

Running up the hill, Molar’s friend gave a
slight struggle to follow up with him. “Hey! Wait up!” called
Caeo—but to no avail. All Molar could focus on was the pictures in
his head—pictures of himself flying off the cliff, kissing the
altitudinous air above.

At last Molar made it to the top of the
cliff—exclaiming to his friends all the while, “Here I go!” As
Molar’s paws began to curl around the edges of the cliff, Caeo
hopped up and down anxiously. Envy swept over him and urged him to
push Molar off the cliff.

In a heartbeat—beyond his own control—did
Caeo push Molar off the cliff’s ground with his paws, quickly
noticing guilt’s punishment on his mind.
Oops
, he lamented,
taking a step back from where he’d just shoved Molar.

“Whoa!” Molar cried, unprepared for the fall.
My wings—I just have to keep flapping them!
Without any
pattern or order, he gave his wings many rapid flaps while in the
air. Such an action would save him from injury—he just knew it!

Unfortunately, no matter how many beats he
made per heartbeat, Molar’s wings were not strong enough to hold
him in the air. They were not used to the wind rush that Mocranian
fliers felt when they flew. Giving up easily, his wings quickly
grew too sore to flap anymore.

Feeling heavier than usual, Molar found
himself plummeting to the ground. Molar’s wings were not spread out
enough for him to even make a start on flying. There were certain
lengths—depending on what the creature was—that had to be measured
before a child could start learning how to fly, and Molar wasn’t
even close to that specific length.