• 2.
    “Let me go! Let me go!” A young woman, no more than twenty-five, was fighting so fiercely that it took five grown men to restrain her. Her, wide, winter-sky blue eyes were slit like an eagle’s, taking in every detail even in her panic.

    “Shut up, girl! Don’t you know who it is that you stand before?” The guard captain growled. “Bow to the Baron!”

    She snapped at him, teeth barely missing his fingers. “I bow to no man.” Venom and ice laced her proud voice as she held her chin high.

    “Learn your place, girl!” The guard captain slapped her cheek and she faltered for a moment. The men bore down their weight, forcing the woman to her knees. Still, she held her head up, hatred burning brighter than any forge in her eyes.

    “Baron, huh?” She managed a grin. “You don’t,” she paused for breath, “scare me.”

    Both the Baron and the Cardinal visibly recoiled. “What in the name of the heavens is wrong with its face?” Cardinal Ramses exclaimed, for sure enough, she bore no tattoos to tell of rank or class.

    “Forget about its face, Cardinal,” Gabriel said, standing, gripping his sword. “What I want to know is what’s wrong with its body?” Though the woman appeared human, she possessed not only a dappled lion-like tail, but a pair of large, grey wings.

    “There’s nothing wrong with me!” She hissed through clenched teeth, tail lashing angrily. “Haven’t you ever seen a half-gryphon before?”

    “You mean a half-breed?” The Cardinal spat. “How disgusting.”

    Gabriel ignored the Cardinal and came to stand in front of the kneeling woman. When she would not look at him, a guard grabbed her short, spiked-back, black hair and forced her to face him. “What is your name, half-gryphon?”

    “My name is Cygnyt, Cygnyt Falconeyes.” She wore light, baggy pants and only a cotton vest covered her chest. Her hair was actually made of fine black feathers that formed a crest over the top of her head in primaries and soft downy feathers down the back, giving her the impression of a rebellious youth.

    He drew his sword and smiled softly. It was not a kind smile; it was the kind of smile people get before they kill other people. Cygnyt, however, was not afraid. Only after he spoke did she first begin to feel something other than anger and pride. “You should really be thanking me for what I’m about to do to you.”

    “Guards, hold her down.”

    When Cygnyt was properly secured to the floor, her wings and tail were uncomfortably exposed, the muscles stretching in all the wrong places. The guards moved out of the way so the Baron’s sword would have a clean swing. “Don’t struggle.” He said as Cygnyt’s eyes went wide with fear. “After all, I want the cut to be clean, don’t you?”

    “You-you monster!” She cried, trying with all her strength to escape and failing, earrings made of black feathers brushing against her frightened face. “You attack my village, slaughter my people and my parents, take away everything that I’ve ever loved, and that still isn’t enough?! Why? Why are you doing this?” Underneath the panic and the fear, Cygnyt caught the scent of rogue magic, though the source was unidentifiable.

    “Just get this over with already, Baron Gabriel.” The Cardinal groaned with boredom, rolling his eyes and inspecting his fingernails. “Animals like this don’t deserve more than five seconds of your time. Besides, we’ve got lunch after you’re finished and I’m already famished.”

    Tears rolled down her sunburned cheeks, out of desperate eyes. This can’t be happening, this isn’t happening, Cygnyt thought. Brave enough for anything but this, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as Baron Gabriel von Seraphim raised his sword.

    The smile on the Baron’s face as his sword began its downward stroke was peaceful. “I think your wings would look quite nice on my wall.”

    …I want my dad… Cygnyt braced herself.