Page 83 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

Everything is utilitarian, arranged with military precision. No warmth, no personality.

It never seemed so stark to me before, so lonely. Not until now, coming from weeks spent in Elderberry Falls. From weeks spent with Ecco.

The stone walls press in, heavy and confining. This room hasn’t changed in over a century, preserved like a relic of a bygone age. Just like the rest of the clan stronghold—a monument to rigid tradition and unwavering duty.

Sinking onto the hard mattress, the rough blanket scratches my skin. My mind drifts to Ecco’s world: vivid, vibrant, pulsing with life and color. The way Elderberry Falls seemed to sparkle with enchantment whenever she smiled. How her musical laughter rang through the picturesque streets, filling the crisp wintry air with joy.

With Ecco, everything felt lighter. Brighter. She brought magic into my monochromatic existence.

Heavy footsteps approach. I tense, snapping back to the present.

My uncle Alvric fills the doorway, an imposing figure hewn from granite. His craggy features are stern, dark eyes glinting beneath a heavy brow. Massive wings stretch behind him, the leathery membranes criss-crossed with scars—badges of a lifetime spent in service to the clan.

“Graeme.” Alvric’s deep voice rumbles through the small room. “It’s good to have you home.” He clasps my shoulder, the gesture brusque. “Time you accepted your duty to the family.”

I grasp his weathered hand, shaking it solemnly. In my mind, I see Ecco enveloped in the warm embraces of her loved ones as we said our goodbyes to her family and friends outside the Moonflower.

The easy affection, the open emotion. Things I can never expect from my uncle.

Alvric’s eyes bore into mine, searching. “You seem distracted.”

I school my features into an impassive mask. “Just getting re-acclimated, sir.”

He grunts, apparently satisfied. “Rest. Training resumes at dawn.” With that, he strides away, leaving me alone once more.

I release a shuddering breath, sinking back onto the bed. Surrounded by the trappings of my old life, everything is off-kilter. The path that once seemed so certain is now obscured by shadows of doubt.

Have I outgrown this place, this way of life? The thought ricochets through my mind. I think of Ecco, of the way she made me question everything I thought I knew.

A future in the clan yawns before me, as gray and unyielding as the stone walls of my ancestral home.

But to leave the clan—to be struck from the history stones in town, my name removed from the records and no longer spoken amongst the clanspeople, just like Caldor…

It’s a decision I wouldn’t be able to reverse.

A few days later,I hunch over a map of the stronghold, eyes narrowed in concentration. Uncle Alvric stands at the head of the table, flanked by his most trusted advisors. Brock, a grizzled warrior with a jagged scar bisecting his cheek. Sten, wiry and intense, his eyes darting over the parchment. And Karn, a hulking brute who perpetually scowls.

“We should reinforce the eastern perimeter,” Alvric says, his finger tracing a line on the map. “Double the patrols, increase the watch rotations.”

As he outlines proposed security measures, my mind wanders to Ecco’s words, the questions she raised about the true nature of the threats we face. Her perspective has taken root inside me, an insidious seed that refuses to be ignored.

I clear my throat, the sound cutting through the low murmur of the meeting.

“Uncle, when was the last time we encountered a dark being in the mountains? What did they do to warrant such extreme measures?”

Silence descends. Alvric and the others exchange uneasy glances, as if the very notion of questioning our mission is foreign to them.

Alvric’s posture stiffens, his hands clenching into fists on the table. “Graeme, you know as well as I do that the dark beings are a constant threat,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “We must remain vigilant, always prepared for their next attack.”

The words have the cadence of a rehearsed refrain, a mantra repeated so often it’s lost all meaning.

I look around the room, taking in the shifty gazes and uncomfortable shuffling of the advisors. Their inability to provide concrete examples, to justify our actions, speaks volumes.

A cold sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach.

Have we truly been chasing shadows all this time? Expending our lives and resources on a threat that may not even exist?

I feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering between the life I’ve always known and the unknown that beckons beyond.

---