What is a Gryffon: In this instance, a gryffon is a creature with the body of a lion, but its head, torso and its front legs are those of a bird of prey, comparable to an eagle. This creature’s eyes, though, are like unto a feline’s eyes. In particular this gryffon was purple, in feathers and fur, with the earth-orange beak and talons one would expect in nature. To specify, in nature in Omaha. Gryffons, of course, are not known to exist in nature in Omaha, or elsewhere on Makoto, although they are known in mythology and therefore may once have existed there.
Injury: The leg bone in question is the front left leg. This bone had been broken by an apparent attack of blunt force from the posterior. The injury to the limb was compound and complicated by the artery. Upon setting (requiring great force) the artery formerly blocked off by the bone began to hemmorage. Time allowed this injury to clot well enough to bring the bleeding to a manageable level. The bone was set with local materials, otherwise untreated due to lack of available packing herbs. Any infection that has previously been present appeared to have been healed by a Unicorn.
Leg physiology: Since the leg in question is shaped like a bird leg, it is to be expected it is hollow with the honeycomb supports. In fact, this was not the case. The leg was full in thickness with the marrow center – a dense bone that must have required a great deal of force to break. Since the creature was in pain I did not undertake further study at the time.
One does try not to be… what would Madame Sullivan have called it? Distressed? Overcome? Hysterical? I remember when she told me I was the least hysterical woman she’d ever met.
I felt like I was lacking some part of being a woman then, of course, and I was, but those things came with time and hysterics have yet slipped through my grasp. Susette might have gotten hysterical on discovering she could not just turn around and go home. And what good would that have done? None, but to ruin her very pretty hard won cosmetics.
I don’t know what to make of the Unicorn. Is it a spirit, my great-grandmother, a simple creature… or all these things? Mother Mary always was exasperated by my curiosity, but she didn’t understand when I was a child where it would take me. I would cut up the world, if I could, to see what was inside, but first I’d have to find out how to put it back together. Now, father encouraged it, so long as I figured out how to put it back together *first*. That has been the hard part.
I should not have followed a white man’s creature like that. I should have called on one of ours, a spirit that could have talked to it. Perhaps they could have… set things up better? I’ve never been able to understand how the spirits think, so who is to know.
Maybe I should have offered her my medicine pouch. Always think of these things too late.
So she brought me to a creature I will call a Gryffon. Certainly it must have been magical, or if not, it was purple-feathered and that was close enough. Someone broke his leg. Some sick bastard who I’d love nothing more than to get my hands on…
So I set it. Misae hid who knows where in the wood, and he let me set his bone and did not bite me in half, for which I am grateful. This place he was in – what is it? There were no fish in the pristine pond, or frogs about it, or insects. I have rarely been more disturbed. It took walking to find berries, which would do the poor creature little good, but it was something and I was getting hungry myself. No birds... how can that be? Even if it is the True Earth, as the King said, why wouldn’t it have… life. That’s it, that’s what disturbed me. The Unicorn, the Gryffon and I – we were the only life in this place.
Then the people came. Brita and Mr. Dworkin. Perhaps relatives? Time will prove that, though they seem convinced enough. Brita gave me a new definition for my name, and I wanted to find my father and throttle him. By tradition he didn’t name me, and I never questioned… for all the things I’ve questioned, I have but skimmed the surface. Why did you let her call me Shadow, father, or was it your name because of who she was in your life? And I thought it meant dark and mysterious – I was proud of it. It is the only thing I can be angry about. What was it, a signpost? Destiny?
I don’t know what to make of the new relatives yet, except that they opportune as well as I do – perhaps better. Brita called her mother (Fiona), who quickly had me agreed to look at her brother (Gerard) who ~ I really like him. I hope he doesn’t break me in half when I put him into withdrawl. He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met, father aside.
Married and related, of course.
I have no idea what to make of their King. He’s… not what one expects in a King. A very young chief, perhaps. I hope he is good for them. Everyone seems very frayed around the edges from the war. I’ve bit my tongue on more insensitive questions about it… I haven’t bitten my tongue so much since finishing school. I don’t want to be the one picking at wounds though. I’ve got to give them some time to let the scabs start coming off.
I need to go home. On the other hand, I’ve never had a holiday. Not since I came home a doctor. Of course, father would call that a white man’s concept, a holiday. But I trained Walking West and John enough that they should be able to get by. For a while. Just a while. Until I can traverse this fire labyrinth.
And then what? Doesn’t this change everything? Or does it? What happens when you find out you aren’t who you thought you were?
Gerard, Hint 1:
The Pattern heals. The Pattern leaves you alone, with your true self.
So… if Mr. Dworkin is the Pattern… hm. If it hurts him when you spill our blood on it, what does it do to him when someone dies on it, like Gerard said. Does he feel it? Is ‘he’ the murderer? Is he injured?
Gerard Hint 2:
“Corwin grew his eyes back after they'd been burnt out. Took him four years, though.”
I keep thinking about this, really slowly. How would Gerard know? Because surely this Corwin wouldn’t want to talk about that. Which means… he was around when it happened, and four years later. I’ve heard of some bad things, but people getting their eyes burned out… that’s rather extreme.
Gerard Hint 3:
“Third, if you're looking to start temperance here, you should know that not only is this a navy town, there was a while there where it was drink small beer or boil your water, so you're not likely to find much sympathy for your views.”
There is hardly ever any sympathy for my views, my friend. Of course, I’m going to miss being the one having the sympathy for the poor drunk saps taking their whipping…
Gerard Hint 4:
"I think the girls chafe at what they see are the restrictions on women of their station. I think they sometimes resent the freedom they feel like the lads have. I think they don't see the places where the lads run less free,"
Everyone is chafing, but the restrictions on men are more internal. Sounds like out East.
But then, “I don't think most people will have a problem with a woman of the royal blood doing whatever she damn well pleases, short of behaving like a drunken doxy.”
So, the lesson here is hold your head high and insist on having your way because you can. Perhaps.
Lucas is frustrating. But his children justify his existence. Jealous of Solace for those babies, even if she has to deal with him. Although she does seem to love him. I hope she doesn’t get herself killed.
Ossian is very sweet though. He tried very hard. I should have prepared him better.
Martin reminds me of my father – that intensity – I almost kicked him and Ossian both out of the room. What gives a man that intensity? I wonder if Martin could sit there with a straight face and watch his nephew whipped on his order. He looks young yet, but all the family here does and I’ve been warned. His intensity belies the look – I wonder how old he is. I have no idea how to approach him.
After Xanadu, must try for a full, dug-in spiritwalk. Alone.
This library is USELESS. Many books that are works of art, and lots of books telling me how to kill people in various bloody warlike ways. It still, at least, smells like a library. My favorite place in this castle – so far – but as far as learning anything, I’ve done better in the infirmary.
If I could just have some woods, just a little bit of woods. Just some leaves under my feet. Just a little dirt under my fingernails. Just for awhile.
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