Page 23 of Gryphon in Light

“Yes. Sketi.”

“I can’t stay here!” Kelvren blurted, and jumped to his feet. “Why would you tell me this here, in the Vale? I should be far away from here!”

“You’re safe enough for the moment, inside the protections in this room, Kel. So stay calm, and digest a while. No one is exploding just yet,” Firesong reassured.

Yet, he says. Yet! I would be afraid enough if it was only I who could burn up, but this means I threaten everyone by even existing!

Silverfox said, “We may have thought of some things that can be done.”

Kelvren looked up and around, twitching his ears in agitation, and paced in figure-eights. “You may have ideas, but you aren’t the only clever ones. I remember Nightwind said I was held—” he nearly spat the word, “—for over six days. What has happened at Deedun?”

“Ah. That is another situation.” Firesong looked to Silverfox, and it was clear that the next part would be bad news. They both looked to Darian, who got up to stand squarely before Kelvren. He spoke slowly and steadily, clearly trying to be as calming as he could be. “Kelvren, you—as we understand it all, and from what we learned in your mind—we know you did the right things. We know you were gryphon-fierce, and brave, noble, and heroic.”

“As it should be,” Kel replied.

“But—Valdemar is not doing well at the moment. The border wars, the attacks in Haven and on the Trade Roads, and the Storms, plus lesser-known troubles, have resulted in the Heralds, Guard, and no small amount of the Valdemaran population supporting them being far away from the center of the country. The Crown can only assist so much with the bad times deep inside their borders, and only spare so many Heralds. In short, the small keeps, holders, barons, trade leaders, and so on have fallen back upon their own troops, and tightened their local control. They are infighting, in the absence of the system that stabilized Valdemar before. It isn’t just Deedun that is troublemaking. The trouble is all over.”

Kel blinked blankly at Darian.

“This means that ambitious, greedy, or scared people are using rumors as weapons, to gather influence. And so, overwhelmingly, your noble actions on Valdemar’s behalf have been interpreted by many as, ah . . . as the Crown bringing in monsters from the Pelagirs, and using the might of the terrifying Hawkbrothers against the small folk of Valdemar.”

Kelvren screamed in rage, and by the way the others winced and fell back, it actually hurt them. “That is untrue! Untrue! Wrong! It is not how it is! I did what was right for an ally!”

Firesong yelled back, “We know! We know! But our truth is not what they see!”

Kelvren continued to rage. “Then they are liars, and they twist what happened! I defended the Crown and its troops! I was a good ally!”

Again, Firesong shouted, “We know! But that’s bad too! Some of us argue that by acting as a full combatant and not a scout, you pulled us into Valdemar’s internal struggles, and we can’t afford that! K’Valdemar’s position is precarious enough as it is!”

Kelvren fumed, beak shut, but his sides heaved in fast, deep breaths. His nares whistled with each inhalation. “Which ultimately means what, exactly?” he snapped at the four.

“Which means,” Darian gasped as he rubbed at his temple, “diplomatically . . . it is a difficult dance, Kel, and we’re doing the best we can with a new dance floor and new steps. What we came up with is, your actions have been claimed by Lord Breon and disavowed as an action of the Tayledras. He has claimed officially that you were under his orders to act on your own best judgment.”

“But—I wasn’t! I scouted for all of us, and we shared the information with Kelmskeep as a favor—”

“—but in the mess Valdemar is in, Breon’s story is better,” Darian countered.

“For who? For Breon, for Valdemar, for the Vale, for the Tayledras? No, I hate it! As Wingleader, I hate it! It makes gryphons sound—uncontrollable! It makes me sound impulsive and undisciplined!”

Firesong and Silverfox instantly met eyes with each other and held their breaths. Both shook their heads and exhaled a moment later.

“Silver Gryphon Chief Redhawk put forth the suggestion that until you are reliable, physically and mentally, you should not be Wingleader. Your responsibilities are, as the final say put it, suspended,” Darian explained. “And that allows us to honestly say that your rank was taken from you if Valdemaran leaders take issue against Breon.”

Kelvren slit his eyes, and his crest and hackles went up.

“Kel,” Nightwind pleaded. “We don’t know whether your condition will make you insane, or simply fall out of the sky suddenly. We don’t know if you’ll unknowingly walk past a Working in progress and suddenly incinerate yourself and half of the Vale. A Silver Gryphon has to be relied upon to execute justice, and a Wingleader must be sound enough to take gryphons into danger without question. As an absolute. Right now, Kel, you are one big, glowing question. You are still beloved, and still respected, but you can’t actually be trusted to be Wingleader because of what you underwent in that Change-Circle. Hate it if you must, but you know it is reasonable.”

“I do hate it! Diplomats, lords, and power-grabbers turned my virtue, then my pain, into a reason for my punishment?” Kelvren clawed at the tile, vaguely aware that he was drawing his talons side to side, sharpening them.

Darian drew his hands to his sides for fear that Kel would snap at them. “It was my solution. Valdemaran culture is different from ours, Kel. They—they prefer to have someone to blame. They don’t just act upon a circumstance like we do. They prefer to fill a target with arrows first, and then check if it was the cause of the problem. Breon’s taking the arrows for you, so we have the time to fix your body if we can. We can fix your reputation later.”

“I hate it,” Kelvren growled, but gave the situation its due thought. I sacrificed myself to save a Valdemaran and so Breon is making a sacrifice to save me. I can’t disrespect that, but I don’t have to like something to respect it. A gryphon’s life is worth the story the gryphon leaves behind, and this is not where I wanted my story to go. I haven’t even had gryphlets yet! Wait—how am I ever going to have any young? I could burst into flames on someone’s back! I do not want to be remembered that way either!

Darian said softly, “Rukayas is new to k’Valdemar, from k’Leshya by way of k’Vala, but is the oldest gryphon here now, and Redhawk appointed her as the new Wingleader.”

“Rukayas. Her name is Rukayas. Hurrrh.”

“And you’re glowing brighter,” Firesong added. “I’ll draw you down. Just open up a bit, Kel, let me take some of that energy from you.”