5★ Griffin

Fire Griffin

Deep within the forest a beast lay squirming, covered in mud. At a glance, it looked like a muddy lion, or a giant bird. As it continued to wriggle in the mud for some time, colorful birds from nearby began to fly over and perch on it. The birds’ chirps almost seemed to taunt the beast as they rang throughout the still forest.

The beast was a griffin, a mythical animal with the stout legs of a lion and the magnificent wings of an eagle. It is a flawless Astromon, although being covered head to tail in mud made it hard to recognize. As the young griffin stood up and started to shake off the mud, the birds dispersed in a flurry of confusion and surprise. The griffin’s wings did not seem yet fully developed. If they had been, if the griffin had been able to fly up with the birds, he would surely have many adorable little bird friends. But today, as with every day, he couldn’t fly; he could only get dirty in the mud, get taunted by the birds, and fail to make any friends.

The griffin returned to his rickety house, where his mother, father, and grandmother greeted him with an outpouring of love. However, he couldn’t hide its sadness. His family was precious to him and absolutely irreplaceable, but they couldn’t fill the emptiness he felt from having no friends.

That evening, grandmother made him her special stew, which helped to cheer him up a little. Each bite was like a savory explosion in his mouth, and he thought that nothing in the world could taste better than his grandma’s stew.

Once his mind had cleared, the young griffin told his grandma about everything that had happened that day. He told her how the birds would fly away when he tried to approach them, and how he chased one bird until he fell into a hole of mud and the bird got away, and how the birds that perched on him all fled when he started to get up.

“Do you really want to be friends with the birds?” His grandmother looked at him with the same caring but slightly unnatural expression that he was used to, and then she smiled.

The next morning, he found more of his grandma’s stew on the kitchen table. It was the same thing he’d had for dinner, but he didn’t mind; her stew was, after all, the best. However, once he started eating, he was shocked by the taste. This was not the same as his grandma’s delicious stew that he had eaten the night before. It was plain, as though something was missing. There were no savory explosions going off in his mouth. With wide eyes, he turned and looked at his grandmother in bewilderment.

“If you go out and make friends with all the birds so that you’re no longer lonely, are you prepared to eat stew like that every day?”

The young griffin was caught off guard by the question. Why would making friends cause the stew to taste plain? He couldn’t believe he had to choose between friends and his grandma’s stew. After thinking for some time, the young griffin answered his grandmother.

“Of course I could tolerate that kind of stew if I had friends, although it really does taste bad. If I make new friends, though, I’d much rather we eat good stew together!”

The young griffin’s eyes lit up as he spoke. His grandmother couldn’t help but smile while she watched him talk about the friends he wanted to make, and the things he would do with them.

The next day, the stew was once again the savory explosive kind he loved. In fact, it seemed to taste even better that day, and it almost glowed with a scarlet hue. It satisfied his appetite and restored his confidence. He once again headed into the forest’s depths, determined this time to definitely become friends with the birds.

However, when he got there, he noticed something strange. Each day there was a small, scarlet bird that would clean itself while standing atop the largest boulder in the forest, but today it wasn’t there. The griffin wondered, “Where could it have gone? Is it gone for good? I didn’t even get to ask its name…” He became a little depressed. Where did the scarlet bird go? It was only much, much later that the griffin learned the truth.

Water Griffin

They lied to me.

I rested my chin atop a boulder and cried. It wasn’t just about the stew I ate when I was young. Mom, Dad, Grandma… They were always like to this. They lied to me all the time, including this time…

The older I got, the more obvious it became that I physically looked different from everyone else. I didn’t look like any of them. At some point, I instinctively knew that I was different from them. It took a lot of questioning, but finally I got an answer. As expected, we weren’t blood-related.

Mom said that being family isn’t necessarily about being related by blood, that the important thing was how we felt, and that all the time we’ve spent together is proof that we are a family. I was confused at first, but after I watched the sun set and rise five times or so, I started to understand. After all, Mom and Dad weren’t blood-related, but they were each other’s family. Maybe the blood connection really isn’t all that important.

Still, the fact that they had lied to me yet again made me explode with anger. They said things like “You’re just more sensitive right now because you’re going through puberty” and “We were only trying to keep you from getting hurt”, but those were just excuses. I was so angry that I ran out of the house. It didn’t matter whether we were blood-related; the important part was that they lied to me. Again. Why can’t they understand that?

The forest was so quiet that I didn’t even hear birds singing. I walked aimlessly for I don’t even know how long. I just took in the still air, the sunlight shining through the tree branches, the feel of walking on fresh grass… And the sight of a human I’d never seen before.

I stopped in my tracks. He only stood there with his face pointed up, basking in the sunlight. He then suddenly turned his head slowly in my direction and blinked, as though he had felt my presence. Even at a glance, he looked odd for a human. His eyes looked huge as they watched me. They were tranquil and seemed genuinely benevolent.

Suddenly, a ridiculous thought ran through my head. Astromons, masters, and the Astromon League are all things I was used to hearing about. So what if I made that human my master, and just left this place? It would be an easy way to break free from this life I’d grown so tired of.

He didn’t have a pendant of order. He was a very typical human who used typical human speech and who couldn’t communicate with Astromons who didn’t use typical human speech.

In Latecia, Astromons who could speak the official language and those who couldn’t existed side by side, just as masters who had pendants of order existed side by side with those who didn’t. Having lived my entire life in this forest, I almost never encountered humans, let alone learned their language.

A little while ago when my master was out, I tried pronouncing some words from the official language, and was able to do it without much trouble, although my pronunciation was awkward like a child’s. I suppose it was to be expected, like a child falling while they learn to walk, but my pride was hurt that I couldn’t do better, and I found myself losing my appetite. I bet humans would laugh at me.

I started studying behind my master’s back. If I just practice for about ten years, I might be able to speak fluently… Studying was so tedious, though. Do I really have to do all this just to communicate with the human? The more I thought of it, the more annoyed I became. I’m sure he was laying on his bed, relaxed and content. Why did I have to be the one here trying so hard to learn someone else’s language?!

Wood Griffin

Every day I spend with Master is new and exciting! The grass, the trees, the rivers, the sky, even the air… Now I understand why people leave their homes!

My language studies are proceeding nicely, as well. I’m sure the human will make fun of me if I start speaking with strange pronunciation, likely for days if not months, which is a situation I want to avoid. I’m not going to open my mouth even a little until my pronunciation is perfect.

Of course, even without pendants, humans and Astromons can communicate if they try hard and have sufficient trust in one another, which is the case for many masters across Latecia and their Astromons. However, the amount they can communicate varies greatly, and neither the breadth nor depth of their communication can rival that of spoken language. It would be more like the communication between a human and their pets of 10 years.

My master is a good person, and I’m not just saying that because I like him. Any Astromon would agree. Of course, behind those benevolent eyes, those eyes that are kinder than anyone else’s in the world, there are some things that are just aggravating, like how he rolls those huge eyes when he wants to make fun of me (which he does without warning).

Latecia is a strange place. Astromon poachers secretly capture Astromons and sell them to the wealthy.

Recently, I heard something interesting about… well, me. Griffins (of which I am one) are apparently very rare Astromons, seldom seen and quite valuable. It makes sense; after all, I hadn’t ever seen an Astromon that looked like me back in the forest. I always knew I was special. Suddenly I thought of my family back in the forest. Mom, Dad, Grandma… I want to tell them how special I am, to rub it in their faces. But I already decided I wouldn’t be seeing them for a while, so I suppose I’ll have to hold my tongue for now.

The number of humans who want me has increased, given how special I am. I even met some crazy human yesterday who said he’d pay enough money to buy five houses if I joined him. How can he even think of buying or selling me?!

Luckily, Master got angry with the man and refused him on the spot. I was a little moved by how firm he was. My heart might’ve been a little warm on our way home. Of course, it didn’t last for very long—the feeling went away right about when the human ruffled my wings and said “Still can’t fly with these?”

What am I supposed to do with such a childish master? Now he’s saying he wants to go explore Orisia all of a sudden. What if something bad happens…? I decided to go with him, even though I didn’t really want to. He’d no doubt get himself in trouble if I’m not there. I have to be by his side to make sure nothing happens.

…

After a couple days of packing, we finally set off and made it to Orisia. There aren’t many people here. Not even explorers come here very often. If something does happen, there won’t be anyone here to help. As a last resort, I could always grab master and… fly away. I’ve become really good at flying lately. I’m not exactly perfect at it yet, so I still have to go down and kick back off the ground again, but it should be fine…

…

Today was the absolute worst. We should have never come here. Maybe we should go back while we can…

Light Griffin

(Faded, indecipherable writing)

…Then the griffin left with his young master to explore the land of Orisia. What could have given them the guts to do so? Having guts is normally a positive thing, but not when talking about Orisia. It didn’t matter how good of a person his master was, or how much he loved his Astromons, or how many good deeds he did in his life. Unexpected disaster does not discriminate.

The griffin’s master was exhausted, and the rain the day before had made the ground unstable. He took one wrong step, and the ground slid out from beneath him, sending him tumbling down the mountain slope. It happened in an instant. He tumbled for a long time before getting caught in a bundle of branches on a precipice that jutted out. His slender body was covered in wounds.

– Excerpt from Astromon Observation Log by Seton

His body was only being supported by small, fragile branches that slowly started to crack. The griffin desperately called out his master’s name, marking the first time he spoke to his master. (His pronunciation was pretty good.) His master, still conscious, turned and looked at him. The benevolence in his eyes was accompanied by fear.

The griffin’s mind raced. Should he fly back the way they came and get help, or fly to his master and try to save him? They had seen another explorer just a little way back. If the griffin could find that person, maybe they could help…

He finally made a decision and spread his wings. He managed to make it to the precipice with no problem. Now all he had to do was lift the master with his mouth and get away from the precipice… Suddenly, the griffin faltered. A strong wind blew, throwing him off balance. He and his master both plummeted down from the precipice. As they fell, the master’s benevolent eyes filled with horror. He turned to the griffin and spoke.

“You can… speak…”

– Excerpt from “Astromon Observation Log” by Seton

When the griffin opened his eyes, his master was already gone. Or, to be more precise, his master was already gone, except for his body. The griffin laid in place and stared for a long time at the body that used to be his master. The sun set, the moon rose, and the cycle of each day repeated again and again, but the griffin did not leave.

As days turned into weeks, it became harder and harder for the griffin to remember what his master was like when he was alive. His benevolent eyes, the warmth in his touch… He found none of it in his master’s final resting place. His master now shared more in common with a pile of rags and corpse of a deer that were both nearby. After nine more nights, the griffin left Orisia.

– Excerpt from Astromon Observation Log by Seton

Dark Griffin

Recently, an adventurer who returned from the near-deserted Orisia reported seeing a strange creature, neither bird nor lion, jumping and falling repeatedly from a precipice. The adventurer stated that it seemed to be trying to fly, but every time it would fall from the precipice, it let out a freakish wail. It was, to say the least, strange.

…

Recently, another adventurer returning from Orisia reported seeing wonderfully beautiful traces of light that illuminated the night sky. The beast that once fell from the precipice was no more, now replaced by an aloof light stitching through the air as it greets explorers. Another witness stated, “It was the first time I’d seen such an amazing Astromon. If it has a master, they must be so proud.”

– Excerpt from an adventurer’s record

“…This was all an excerpt from the Astromon Observation Log.”

No one in the lecture hall was paying attention to Professor Tasee. Not that his lecture was bad. Everyone was simply fixated on one student’s remark, a strange-looking student at that.

“That makes no sense! There’s no way the legendary griffin would be unable to save a single falling person.”

Professor Tasee’s face stiffened at the student’s insulting comment. He was appalled by the rudeness of it. Still, it was clear the student wasn’t trying to harass him; the student appeared to be genuinely upset. The professor cleared his throat and responded.

“I was about to talk about that. As you all know, the Astromon Observation Log is a record made long ago by an explorer named Seton. It is written like a novel, but is primarily composed of actual records regarding Astromons. However, a recently discovered record written by an adventurer has been garnering much attention. Look at the bottom of today’s handout. The ‘beautiful traces of light that illuminated the night sky’ are likely referring to the griffin, flying through the air. This contradicts Seton’s record, which states that the griffin left Orisia. The new record contains further sightings of the griffin together with its master, and not only in Orisia, but in Arctica, Rodinia, and all across the world. In other words, the sad ending in which the griffin was unable to save its master is, in all likelihood, a dramatization created by Seton.”

“Of course it’s a dramatization! You really think a griffin couldn’t put a single human on its back? And the story idealized the master too much, with his ‘benevolent eyes’ and unmatched kindness and such… Blegh.”

Professor Tasee’s brow furrowed like a crumpled piece of paper. The students were all paying attention to the student in the middle who was soliloquizing. No one could stop him, and there seemed to be a mysterious energy floating around him, an odd air that made him almost unapproachable.

“An Astromon and human lived happily together, but due to a tragic incident, they were forever separated… Sounds like a story everyone would like in this day and age, right? A story about the undying friendship and devastating end of a human master and his animal Astromon, in an age in which animal Astromons are discriminated against in favor of humanoids. It’s a story that people with a tinge of guilt are sure to love. I bet the master wasn’t as great as that novel made him out to be. He probably didn’t think everything through, and occasionally had fights with his Astromons. He was probably pretty stupid, too. Benevolent gaze? More like an idiot’s gaze! Granted, though, I did like that part…”

“You speak as though you are the griffin…”

Upon hearing this, the student immediately left the lecture hall. Professor Tasee quickly chased after him. The student had exited the building and turned the corner to the garden, but when the professor arrived, there wasn’t anyone in the garden. Just then, he looked up. There in the sky were bright traces of light, like flames that had melted the sun. Another strong light shone down, forcing the professor to look away, but in the light he clearly saw the shape of what seemed to be a lion with wings.