When a Gargoyle Awakens (14 page)

“Holy crapola!”  Kylie almost dropped her noodles, and Luc blinked at her in shock.  “Are you telling me that King Arthur was real?”

Luc gasped.  “You have heard of him even after all this time?”

“Yeah, just about everyone has.  I mean it’s legend and all that, but they made plenty of books, movies and TV shows about it.  It’s kind of a popular story.”

His lips tightened.  “The legend of Arthur survives and yet my people are all but forgotten.”

Kylie placed her noodles on the floor.  “Oh, I’m…”

Luc clasped her hand.  “Do not say you are sorry, little one.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  I am gratified that you feel things so keenly, but I would not wish for you to burden yourself with hurts or wrongs that are not yours.  Know that you never need to apologize to me.”

“I promise never to apologize to you again,” she told him, solemnly.

“You have made me a very happy gargoyle, little one.  Now, I believe I should continue with the story.  I fear that soon the dawn will be chasing me.”

“I’m…”  Kylie smirked, “not sorry, but please, continue.”

“Thank you.”  His hand remained loosely clamped around hers and absently his tail wrapped around her ankle.  Kylie settled back into the cushions of the couch and allowed his velvety voice to overtake her.

Luc explained that the country was split into two.  Many knights and clans, known as the Noir Clans, followed Morgan and just as many, known as the Blanc Clans, followed Arthur.  However, more magical creatures allayed themselves with Morgan.  She promised them that they would be allowed free rein to use their powers when her son became king.  She said they would be above the law of man and able to do as they pleased.  And she promised her followers that she would gift them some of her magic, as a prize for being loyal.

Arthur would not promise the same thing.  Guided by Merlin, he knew that magic should not be taken lightly and given to anyone.  He knew that there had to be rules and laws in place to ensure that it was not taken for granted or misused.  This was unpopular with a lot of magical practitioners.  But not all.  There were many who believed the same as Merlin and supported their King when Morgan declared war on Camelot.

However, given that Morgan had the support of creatures such as trolls, mermaids, and even gryphons, it was a war that Arthur was losing.  The few remaining dragons were at least on Arthur’s side.  But innocent people were being slaughtered by Morgan’s army, even those who surrendered to her.  She showed no mercy and Merlin knew that he could not allow her to win this war.

Merlin and the heads of the Blanc Clans decided that they needed help to win the war.  So, as a last resort, they decided to create a race of warriors to help them tip the balance.  With the dragons’ help, a race of gargoyles was created.  They could fly like dragons, and they were faster, stronger than humans and not as susceptible to magic.

However, in order to create them, Merlin had to sacrifice himself – the strongest magic practitioner, Kai, the strongest dragon warrior, and the strongest human in the land – Arthur.  The gargoyles were created by a wizard, a dragon, and a human.  Luc joked that it in some ways explained their appearance. 

“We are a mixture of our heritage.” 

“I can certainly see the dragon in you,” she teased as she tentatively stroked his wing.  He groaned almost imperceptibly.  “But I can also see the man in you.  I’d say you were closer to human than animal.”

“I cannot decide if you are being kind or cruel to your own kind,” he murmured.

She didn’t answer, but if she had been brave enough, she would have said kind.

“The leaders of the Blanc Clans all aided Merlin.  They created five hundred of us to begin with.  They created statues of the warriors they wanted, giving us all the best of each of them and then they brought us to life.”

“You remember that?” asked Kylie, curiously.

Luc smiled wryly.  “I am not quite that old, little one.  I am speaking of my ancestors.”  He leaned heavily on the word ancestors.  “Under Queen Guinevere’s command, my ancestors fought and eventually, Morgan’s army was defeated.  In the end, Morgan killed her son, Mordred and then herself.  Those who were repentant for their actions were allowed to live – many claimed after the war ended that Morgan held them in thrall with magic.  But those who were not repentant were executed.”

Kylie nodded.  “Just like in Harry Potter,” she said, knowingly.

“Harry Potter?” he repeated.

“Yep, after Voldemort got zapped loads of Death Eaters…” she trailed off at his confused expression.  She’d perhaps save Harry Potter for another night.  Whether she admitted to dressing up as Hermione and waiting in line for the midnight release of the last book was another matter.

He tried to ask her who this Voldemort person was, but she changed the subject and insisted he carry on with his story.

“After the war, there were those who thought that gargoyles should be executed, too.”  Luc’s face turned stony – no pun intended.  “They had played their part and were no longer needed.  But Guinevere would not hear of it.  During her reign, she was known as Guinevere the Gentle.  She would never have killed an entire race, especially one that was created from her husband.  My ancestor, who was named Demon, ruled by her side until her death.  He was the first gargoyle ever to breathe life,” he told her proudly.

“Demon?”

“Yes, we did not have names to begin with – eventually we were named by the humans.  I was told that he looked a lot like Demon.  He was a great warrior,” said Luc, wistfully.

“But, Demon – that’s a terrible name!” cried Kylie.

“Demon was also the first gargoyle to receive a name, and he was named for his appearance by Guinevere’s son.  On reflection, it perhaps was not wise to allow a four-year-old child to name a living creature.  Future generations of gargoyles were given names by their gargoyle parents, but it was a tradition in my family for a human to name us.  It – like mine – was an unfortunate name for what we truly are.  But I was named in honor of my ancestor.

“For many years after that, gargoyles lived freely among humans.  We allayed ourselves with the Blanc Clans and eventually, we formed our own clans.  The humans guarded us during the day, and we protected them during the night.”

“Why do you turn to stone during the day?  Surely that’s some kind of design flaw.”

“You believe I am flawed?” he asked her, gravely.

“I didn’t mean to be rude!” she said quickly, heat rising from her neck.  “I mean… everyone has flaws.  I have an absolute ton of flaws!”  She could write him a freaking list of flaws!  Alphabetically or in order of importance.

“Forgive me, little one.  I was only teasing.  As to your flaws, I believe you are the only one who sees them.”  His thumb rubbed her hand and warmth bubbled in her chest.  Naturally, she ruined the moment.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me naked,” she murmured, half to herself.  Judging by the fact that his cheeks turned even redder, he heard her and was nice and embarrassed.

Luc cleared his throat.  “My grandfather told me we sleep during the day because we were creatures who were created in darkness for the dark purpose of killing; we were never meant to see the light.”

Kylie pursed her lips.  “Sounds a bit wishy-washy to me.”

He rumbled with laughter.  “Indeed, my grandfather was somewhat more poetical than the other members of my family.  He did not like to hunt and did not wish to kill animals.  Were it not for my grandmother, he would have eaten nothing but vegetables.”  Luc shook his head in a familiar way of anyone who had a relative that was thoroughly odd and perplexing, but they loved them anyway.

“Wow, a vegetarian gargoyle – whatever next.”

“I believe my grandfather had a point, but it is more likely that the enchantment was powerful, but not powerful enough to shed us of our beginnings completely - hence the need to remain in our stone state during the day.  We were born as statues.  It is really no different from humans.  Both races need to rest.  The difference is that our rest is enforced.  Merlin had to choose between us being alive during the day or the night.  He chose to make us alive during the night – in the darkness, to fight the darkness as my grandfather would have said.”

He was silent for a few moments as he stared at their joined hands.

“Do you know if any of your family members survived?” Kylie asked, softly.

“No, little one.  They died before this happened.  I have had over a thousand years to mourn my parents and grandparents – I am at peace with that.”

“My parents died when I was four.”  She cringed; she didn’t know why she felt the need to share that.

His forehead crinkled in concern.  “I am very sorry for that, little one.  Your life must have been very hard.”

“Probably not normal, but I wouldn’t say hard.”

“I wish I had been there to protect you.”

“Me too, no one would have messed with a kid who has a gargoyle for a bodyguard,” she laughed at the thought of turning up at school towing Luc behind her.

“No one will… mess with you again,” he told her, solemnly.

“So, back to the story, what happened?  Something must have gone wrong, right?  One minute, everyone’s happy and the next…”

“Yes, little one.  Our relationship with humans was tenuous at best.  We were feared by most for what we could do.  And the lingering practitioners of dark magic hated us.  In spite of Queen Guinevere, some supporters of Morgan lived.  They fled and continued to plot.  In my time, it was Guinevere’s great, great, great, great, great grandson on the throne, Arthur II.”

“No way!”

“I see that legend has not survived either,” he remarked, dryly.

“No, if I remember rightly, Guinevere and Arthur didn’t have kids.  I think after Arthur died she went to a nunnery or rode off with Richard Gere or something.  But I might be getting muddled.”

“Hmmm, history is very badly remembered.”

“Yes, clearly, by the fact that your kind has been forgotten.”

“That may have been intentional,” he said, darkly.  “Our allies trusted us, but many did not, and it was not as peaceful a time as any of us would have hoped.  Many warlords and would-be kings attacked Arthur, hoping to kill him and take his crown.  Many were aided by the descendants of Morgan’s allies.  None were successful; the attackers could not hope to prevail against us.”  His teeth gleamed as he gave her a predatory grin, but it soon softened. 

“They attacked Arthur’s allies, trying to weaken him.  At the time, my clan had an alliance with the Somneri Clan.  My second in command was Ophelia, a strong female gargoyle.  Our clan produced the greatest gargoyle warriors in the land.”  His chest inflated to heroic proportions.  “And Faylinn, the daughter of the leader of the Somneri Clan, was a powerful witch.  Together we were unbeatable.”  He paused, his eyes clouded.  “Those were good days.  In spite of the fear and hatred I felt from many humans, the acceptance and kindness from my friends was enough.”

“Did all the gargoyles feel that way?”

“No, little one.  There were those who were uneasy.  Although we were accepted and had an arrangement with our friends, we were not permitted to own land.  Some gargoyles believed we were treated no better than slaves.  I could not agree with that.  We were free to go where we pleased and do as we pleased.  We did not need riches.  Anything that we needed we bartered for; our wants and desires were very different from humans.  The land gave us what we needed.  When we were hungry, we hunted.  When we were unclean, we bathed in a river.”

Kylie wrinkled her nose and Luc let out a long hoot of laughter.  “I see I have offended your delicate sensibilities.”

“You don’t smell like you bathe in a river.”

“Would you know what that smells like?”

Kylie had a flashback to high school.  Boys at that age didn’t tend to be well groomed – at that age they tended to go through a phase of believing that body spray was a good substitute for taking a shower.  But no, they didn’t stoop to jumping into a river.  “Well, no, but you smell nice… uh, I mean…”

“Thank you, little one.  You also smell very pleasing.”

She brushed off the compliment.  “I’m sure it’s just my body wash.”

“No, it is you.”  He brought her palm to his mouth, and she held her breath as he inhaled her scent.  “It is you.”

A blush threatened to turn her into a lobster.  “Oh, thank you.”

“Where was I?  Oh yes.  For a while, there were no attacks.  We thought we had repelled our enemies.  It was mere days before Arthur was due to marry.  Many of the Blanc Clans and gargoyles clans arrived at Camelot for the celebration.  Our enemies converged after daybreak.  They sought to take the castle while we were sleeping.  The human army and magic practitioners kept the invading armies at bay until we could wake.  But when we did, something was wrong.”  His tail wrapped around her ankle more firmly.  “In spite of the deaths of their soldiers they didn’t stop.  It was a slaughter.  They sent wave after wave of humans to us, and we struck them down.  They were just distracting us.  The descendants of Morgan’s allies, the remaining Noir Clans were readying the spell.”

“A spell?”

“The spell,” Luc corrected.  “Or rather the enchantment created by Merlin to bring us to life.”