FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Draped in a cloak of pure black, he studied the building in front of him - or, more appropriately, the small palace. Planning his exact route before he even set foot on the grounds, just as he had done every night over the past week. He took in every inch of the surrounding wall, every detail of the carvings on the outer wall, the exact distance between every window on every floor. And on the very top floor, inside the giant curved dome, he knew his prize was waiting.

Zair smiled to himself, watching as the guards passed by the window. He had their patterns and timing flawlessly recognized by now. With all the prep work he had already done, this job would be so simple. And yet, when he thought of what he was about to do, a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. It had been so long since he chose his own job instead of being told what he was stealing.

And truth be told, he didn't even know what he was going to take once he was in there. He didn't even know what was in there to be taken. All he knew for sure was who. The Golden Lady - Sehria Al-Jharezi, named so for both her striking golden hair and her vast fortune. And now she had come to his city, to wed the sultan if the rumors were true.

He already knew for a fact that she was inside the palace he was watching. He could see her walk past the windows on occasion, her golden hair a beacon in a region where everybody's hair was black. And if she was inside, it was certain that her riches were inside with her. He wouldn't even need to take much. A rare statue, a piece of jewelry she wouldn't miss, a small bag of gold or precious gems. Just a small amount of treasure, and Zair and his sister would live like royalty.

There weren't a lot of guards inside. No more than ten, Zair estimated. Certainly not enough to keep a close watch on every square inch, especially with the areas they were patrolling. There were so many gaps in their security it was ridiculous. He guessed that the areas not watched by the guards were protected by magic, which would be lucky for him. In some ways, magic was easier to fool than people.

Tired of waiting, he decided it was time to make his move. He had watched the building long enough, and he knew exactly how he would enter undetected. He removed his cloak, revealing his bare chest underneath. He always worked in the same outfit; no shirt to avoid getting snagged on anything, no shoes to aid his balance and stealth, and a tight pair of pants that he could still move freely in. A cord was wrapped tight around his waist, holding the only tools he needed: a set of lockpicks, a pouch containing various cheap magical trinkets, a grappling hook with a short length of rope, and his dagger.

He never used the dagger against another person, and never thought to. It was a tool, nothing more. He was a thief, not a killer, and he had made a vow to never cross that line.

Swiftly and silently, Zair ran over to the wall surrounding the palace, pressing his thin body as tight as he could against it. He kept himself as thin as possible while still being mindful of his health. With a small frame, it was easier for him to slip in and out of tight places, and with less weight he could climb things that wouldn't support a heavier man.

It would be easy for him to simply squeeze between the bars of the gate, but too obvious. If there wasn't a guard watching it, there was certainly a ward in place. He had another method of entry in mind. He crept around the perimeter, arriving at his destination; this part of the wall was completely shrouded in darkness, thanks to the way the other buildings nearby were positioned. Even better, on the other side of the wall was the palace garden, the perfect place for him to approach without being seen.

Removing the grappling hook from his belt, he easily hooked it to the top of the wall and began to climb the rope, scaling the wall in a matter of seconds. He left the hook on the wall rather than remove it. Nobody would see it where it was, and by the time somebody did, he would be long gone.

Arriving at the wall of the palace itself, Zair ran his fingers along the ornate carvings, testing the depth. They were perfect for climbing. Digging his fingers and toes into the grooves as best he could, he began his ascent to the third floor, stopping right outside a window.

Three... two... one.

Just as he thought, two guards passed the window, perfectly timed with every other night that week. As soon as they were clear, he pressed his ear to the wall and listened closely. There it was - the distinctive hum of a protective ward that had been placed on the window. Most wards placed this high up were simply used to keep birds, insects, and inclement weather out, but he had on occasion come across wards to alert the home's owner, or even repel intruders and send them flying to the ground below.

Fortunately, Zair came prepared. Opening his belt pouch with one hand, he took a small handful of powder and threw it through the window, swinging himself through not even a second later. The powder was a special blend designed to fool protective wards, but only for two or three seconds. Only the quickest of thieves were able to use it effectively... and Zair was certainly quick.

The interior of the palace appeared to be made for him. The hallway was lined with thick pillars and statues, perfect for hiding his movements. He thought things would be trickier once he was inside, the one place he couldn't scout in advance, but the architecture made his job so much easier.

There were rooms on all sides, and artwork was hanging from the walls, but Zair wasn't interested in any of that. He knew where the real prize was. At the very top, inside that rounded dome. If there was anyplace the Golden Lady would keep her treasures, it was there. His heart began to beat rapidly in his chest as he made his way up that huge, wide spiral staircase, and the huge double doors waiting at the top. Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed one of the doors open and slipped inside.

***

And in he comes.

His skills are certainly improving, I muse, remaining utterly still as I watch him. The young man's eyes widen with surprise, but he makes no sound, carefully taking in the room without moving more than his head. His dark eyes flicker over the pure emptiness of it: for there are no private quarters here, oh no. There aren't even any rooms. The dome of the palace is simply a hollow space, leaving a vast circular hall, containing no riches, no jewellery, not so much as a piece of furniture.

He stares around, confusion now writ large over his elegantly aquiline face, and starts to pad forwards, moving gracefully and silently, still looking around. But all at ground level, unnoticing of the balcony ring that runs along the higher tier of the inside of the dome. A curious construction, perhaps - there are no stairs to access it, as if the encircling walkway is entirely off limits to all ground dwellers.

And it is here that I am waiting.

"You know..." I speak softly, smiling to myself as he whirls round, his breath choking fearfully in his throat. "...most people knock." The sound seems to have come from everywhere at once, thanks to the unique acoustics of this building, and little Zair begins to turn around and around, his eyes darting frantically around the room. But still he is silent.

"You can speak, you know." This time the thief senses the deep, resonating purr of my voice: a sound that is as musical as it is utterly inhuman. "I know you're here, Zair."

He freezes, his dark skin paling slightly, and moistens his dry lips. "Who's there?" he calls into the empty room, his voice shaking a bit.

"The Golden Lady, they called me." I reply coolly, smirking at his muttered curse as he tries to go for the door, only to find that it has locked itself behind him. "My true name, however, is Sehria... just as yours, my dear, is Fahesh."

And now the fear starts to clasp him in it's iron grip. I feel a soft rumble come from my chest, and the human spins around again, squinting up at last. All he can see are shadows.

"Fahesh? But... how did you..."

"Your name can be Zair if you wish." I focus my voice so that it seems to come from right behind him, making the little human - now beginning to shiver slightly with anxiety - whirl round again, and as he tries to scan the dark edges of the room, I make my move.

The dome may not be particularly large by the lavish standards of this magnificently decadent city, but it is certainly large enough to spread my wings, as I glide silently to a few feet behind him. Silently, that is, until I land, with a bone-jarring thud that almost knocks the surprised thief off his feet. Zair spins round again, scrambling backwards... and then he stares, slack jawed.

I wait patiently for a few moments, smiling tenderly at him, as he tries to comprehend me, before I speak. Not even attempting to disguise the alien purr of my voice, not trying to conceal my delight at his sudden shock and his fear.

"Tell me, Zair... do you believe in monsters?"

***

Zair felt his breath start to quicken: the ancient fight or flight response, activating with no idea of how useless it was. The creature before him stood almost seven foot tall at the shoulder, with its massive, sleekly feathered wings bringing its total height to almost twice his. Its hindquarters, streamlined and muscled, were akin to those of one of the savagely majestic desert lions that roamed the surrounding area - albeit grown vastly out of proportion, and with its fur not dusty yellow, but a magnificent, silky coat of luxuriant gold. Golden fur that blended seamlessly into equally beautiful sleek feathers: still that azure hue, covering the vast chest and head of his assailant - the head of an eagle, complete with a cruelly hooked beak, and piercing eyes that looked into his soul. A gasp of horror broke his throat as a sudden, terrible revelation smashed into his reeling mind: the silky pelt of this... this creature was the exact same colour of the Lady's exotic hair.

They were one and the same.

He stared at the creature before him for a long time, seeing it but not understanding it. Every feature seemed to clash with what he knew as reality, fueling his disbelief even though it was right there, looking down at him as he looked right back.

He didn't know when he started running, but he soon found himself at the opposite wall, his hands and eyes frantically searching for some escape route - a concealed door, a small window, anything. He could feel his blood freeze in his veins as a low rumbling, almost like laughter, echoed throughout the dome.

"You won't find anything. There's only one way in, my dear Zair, and that means..." it paused, as if savouring the notion itself, "...there's only one way out."

Zair turned quickly, pressing his back against the smooth wall. He expected to see the creature approaching him, but it still sat in the same spot, having not moved one inch. It was just watching him.

He could feel his knees trembling, as if they would give out at any moment. He kept himself tight against the wall, both out of desperation to keep as much distance as possible between himself and the beast and to support himself. "What... what are you?"

It raised a sleekly feathered eyebrow, those terrible piercing eyes meeting his own frantic gaze unblinkingly. "I'm afraid that there are very few creatures who are aware of our existence and still remain alive, but those that do have tried to name us... I am a gryphon, Zair. My name is Sehria. Oh no," it - no, he realised with a cold shock of horror, she - chuckled low in her throat as the human's eyes widened,"that was all true. The name is just glorious, don't you think? Golden I may be, but I am no lady."

She stood up again, sleek muscles rippling beneath her fur, and padded forwards a few steps, her eyes never leaving his. "But little Zair... who I am is unimportant. You see, it's you who's the interesting one. I won't lie to you, Zair." The... gryphon (the word sounded absurd and foreign in his mind, and already it provoked a small surge of fear) drew in a breath and spoke softly, slowly, as if relishing every syllable. "You are my prey."

Prey.

That one word stuck in Zair's mind as the beast -- the gryphon -- casually approached him. Tearing his eyes from hers for only a brief second, he desperately darted off to the side, cutting an all-too-narrow path near Sehria as he made a dash for the door, his hand flying to the cord around his waist to grab his lockpick. He already knew the door was locked, but maybe... just maybe, if he could open it in time, he could make his escape. He'd picked locks in a matter of seconds before, albeit never while trapped in a room with a monster.

He dropped to his knees, sliding a few feet along the floor as her massive claw reached out to catch him - but playfully, letting him dodge it, toying with him, he realized - then springing back to his feet to continue his run. This door was his only way he could escape. The only way you can survive, a part of his brain insisted, but he ignored that instinct as best he could, trying desperately to focus on his task as he raised the pick to the door, searching for the lock... only to discover there wasn't one.

"Please, Zair..." the gryphon's inhumanly resonant voice vibrated through his entire body, and he felt warm breath on his bare back that made his skin crawl. He spun around, and she was inches away, towering over him, her eyes glittering. "This place is my sanctum. This is where I can literally "be myself"." She chuckled, and as Zair tried to twist away an avian claw snapped around his torso - the scaly flesh dry and rough and with a terrifying strength behind it that slammed him back hard, hard into the door. Sehria barely seemed to notice the groan of pain, lowering her head to look him straight in the eye. "Oh, you'll be a fighter, won't you? This will be so much fun... but I'm afraid that door only opens if I want it to. And right now, you aren't going anywhere." Almost casually, she turned, throwing her victim back into the centre of the hall - nearly forty feet, but there wasn't even a grunt of effort.

Zair tried to roll as he hit the ground, and very nearly did it too - but then a sinuous tail wrapped around his leg, yanking him off balance so that his head cracked into the floor, sending a explosion of dazed blurriness through his vision. He looked up, gasping with pain, and the gryphon was sat back on her massive haunches, observing him casually - as if she hadn't somehow managed to cross the hall in the blink of an eye. She looked at him, sprawled and bruised. "It hurts, doesn't it? But you aren't even crying yet. It's nothing."

It took all of Zair's willpower to ease himself into a sitting position, wincing as he felt a searing pain on his chest. Gently, he lay his hand against his body, pulling it away stained with blood. His mind was still reeling from Sehria's attack; it had been so sudden, so quick, so brutal. It was a miracle he was still able to force himself back to his feet.

For the first time in his life, his hand reached for the dagger at his waist, but not as a tool. It had become all too obvious that this creature wanted to kill him, and she was right -- he would be a fighter. He wouldn't just sit back and allow it to happen... there was too much to lose.

"Faseera..." he whispered as he closed his eyes for a brief second, his sister's face flashing before his eyes. Conjuring up all of his strength, he rushed at the gryphon, dagger held in front of him.

She batted him away without a thought, sending him flying against the wall once again and his blade sliding across the floor.

Still, he refused to give in. He couldn't move his body -- everything felt as if it were on fire after that last hit, and his muscles refused to respond -- but he was still determined to see his way through this. "I... I didn't take anything. I swear. You can let me go, I promise you, I won't tell anybody your secret."

"No, no, no..." Sehria sighed, and sat down smoothly a few feet from his shuddering, panting form. "You don't understand, my dear. This isn't just a coincidence, you see. If you were really just some thief trying to rob me, you would have died the moment you tried to mount the wall."

He blinked. "But, I... I disabled the wards!"

"No, you disabled the human wards. My own enchantments... well, they would have killed you before you hit the ground, frankly."

Weakly, Zair rolled over, slumping against the wall as his bruised muscles flared up. "Then why? Why did you let me..."

He couldn't say it, his throat seizing up in horror. His eyes went wide when he realized what it meant. The gryphon smirked. "Ah, little Zair. So young and innocent and deliciously tormented... or you were." She inclined an eagle claw towards him, the talon long and razor-sharp and utterly terrifying."And, oh... you will be again."

He stared at her, feeling the blood drain from his face as the full horror hit him. She knew me as Fahesh. "You... you've been..."

"Oh yes... You see, Zair, I first intended to kill you almost five years ago - out of nothing more than bitter spite." Her large eyes seemed to grow colder as she spoke, and the human swallowed back a whimper as he tried to rise, and failed. "It was the Amulet of the Sandara that brought me to this city. An inestimably powerful and exquisitely beautiful artifact, steeped in millennia of history and the blood of thousands who had died for it. It was to be the crowning jewel of my collection. I had spent almost half a decade crossing the continent searching for it, and now here it was, simply languishing in an old merchant's shop." She purred softly at the memory, and her prey groaned as he tried to push himself further away, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "I was so, so close. It would have been mine, mine at last.

"And then, mere hours before I intended to strike, it was stolen."

Zair felt his eyes widen even more. "You can't possibly mean..."

"Oh, yes. It was your first theft, wasn't it, Zair? You took it, and before I could react the most precious trinket in the entire city was gone, swallowed up by this place's seething, churning underworld for a few coins. Your fault. I was going to kill you. I was going to rip you apart.

"But then I found out why you needed the money. Don't you remember, little one?"

Zair squeezed his eyes shut. The tears had finally made their way to the surface, one of them leaving a long trail down the side of his face. "Faseera..."

***

As Sehria had said, it was almost five years ago. Back when Zair still used the name Fahesh, the name his mother had given him. His younger sister, Faseera, was the only family he had left. His father had been killed in a conflict with a neighboring region, and his mother remarried shortly after. The man she chose was terrible to both his mother and sister, but she was blind to it; it was as if he had some charm over her.

So Fahesh had to act. He considered simply murdering this man in his sleep, but even as horrible as he was, the thought made him feel ill. The only other thing he could do was take his sister and flee as far as they could, crossing the desert to make a new life in a new city. But he hadn't anticipated how hard the journey would be on Faseera.

Shortly after they arrived in their new home, she came down with a terrible fever and lacked the energy to move. Fahesh recognized it as desert fever, but lacked the coin to hire a doctor's services or purchase the medicine she so sorely needed. It tortured him day in and day out, knowing that his sister was suffering and he was to blame for forcing the journey on her.

And then he saw it, hanging at a jewelry merchant's stall. A golden amulet, inlaid with precious gems every color of the rainbow. The rest of his wares were certainly beautiful, but this amulet? It was something... special.

Something came over him. The timing was perfect. Nobody was looking at the amulet, nobody was looking at him. Quick as a snake, his arm darted out and took it from its peg, retreating back into his pocket before anybody saw what had happened. It was his last act as Fahesh. From that moment on, he was Zair.

***

And now, he stared up at the massive gryphon before him, tears clouding his vision. This beast who wanted to kill him for an act he performed five years ago, for no other reason than to save his sister's life.

"Please..." he choked out, finally allowing himself to sob. "Please, I... I didn't intend to offend you in any way. I just... I needed to buy the medicine. For Faseera. I couldn't allow her to suffer any longer for my mistake." He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with sorrow. "You have to understand."

"Oh, yes. I do understand." This time, the cruel amusement was vanished from her resonant voice, replaced by some dark approximation of sincerity. "If all this had just been for revenge, then you would have died five years ago." The mere word sent a shiver of fear through his lithe body, but Sehria seemed not to even notice, her inhumanly intelligent eyes fixed on something he could not see as she spoke. "But I was cautious... and maybe a little curious. Who was this pathetic little creature who dared, however unwittingly, to deny me? Who were you, Zair, Fahesh? Who were you? "

He tried to stutter an answer, but the gryphon cut him off harshly. "Sssh. You see, I did find out who you were that night, Zair. I saw you return to your sister with the medicine. I saw why you'd done it, why you'd broken the law for the first time in your innocent little life. I saw your desperation, your love for dear sweet Faseera, your compassion and your guilt, your fears and hopes and losses. I saw your soul properly for the first time, Zair. I saw how beautiful you were."

For a long moment, silence reigned, broken only by the ragged breathing as Zair's injuries stung and his head reeled. "But... why are you..."

"Ah..." a slow sigh of satisfaction, and Sehria stood up again, stalking towards him with all the terrible grace of a predator on the hunt. "And so we come to the crux of the matter. That beauty, that innocence and exquisite anxiety... that was five years ago. And you have done what all children must do, Zair: you've started to grow up."

He cowered away as the gryphon drew ever closer, eyes darting all over the featureless, inescapable hall looking for anything, a hint, a way out, a distraction, anything but the golden-feathered inevitability that was moving slowly towards him. "What do you mean? I don't ... I don't understand..."

The creature was standing right over him now, and as she spoke a single talon, dark and sharper than a knife, reached out to tenderly caress his heaving chest. "You've been hardening, Zair. You've been starting to enjoy what you do. You've lost your inner struggles and your deliciously confused guilt. And... this is just unacceptable... you've been forgetting about Faseera."

"I haven't!" Zair protested. "I haven't... she..."

"Oh?" Suddenly, Sehria's smooth voice was hard, cold: almost a snarl. "Where is she now, then?" She smiled cruelly as the human cringed away, her voice regaining its gently inhuman purr once more. "Where is dear little Faseera?"

Zair sharply inhaled as the claw traced along the wound on his chest, but refused to cry out. His eyes were still darting back and forth between the gryphon and the rest of the room, when they finally fell upon his dagger. It's close... if I could just get to it...

The beast was hovering over him now, mere inches from his face. Hoping that she wouldn't notice, he slowly and subtly opened his pouch and took a large handful of wardbreaking powder in his hand.

"Come now, Zair. Don't try to suffer in silence: it's just boring. Tell me, little one, tell me where dear Faseera is."

"Go... to... Hell."

His hand flew upwards, scattering the dust in Sehria's eyes. As the gryphon screeched and tossed her head to the side, trying to clear the offending particles from her face, Zair dropped to the ground and began to pull himself over to his dagger, his legs still too weak to respond.

Finally he was within reach, and his hands closed around the hilt, rolling onto his back and holding the small blade between himself and Sehria, desperate to defend his life at any cost. "L... let me go."

"You are going to be exquisite." she hissed, eyes still screwed shut and streaming, her voice holding no fear, holding nothing but cold amusement and, somehow, red-hot fury as well. The great beast turned to face him, blind but still agile, and he felt his heart hammering in his throat, his hands trembling - but he couldn't lower the blade. He couldn't die here. He just couldn't. Not like this. Not at the claws of this monstrosity that defied logic. "Just let me go, or I'll... I'll..."

"You will what?" Still squinting, Sehria cracked open an eye and glared straight at him, the sheer intensity of her terrible eyes making him stutter, a soft whimper escaping his throat. "You'll use your little toy, will you? Never drawn as a weapon before... never used as an instrument of pain and death... Oh, Zair... you are simply pathetic." And then the other eye opened, watering but steady, and the killer grinned evilly at her prey. "I think it's time you learnt how this goes."

A second passed. A heart-stopping moment of stillness and peace that lasted just long enough for Zair to realize the implications of the gryphon's words, and then...

The hunter pounced.

Or rather, she didn't.

Because there was no act of pouncing, no moment when Sehria was actually in the air mid-spring. She was simply standing and watching Zair, her eyes blazing into his horror-struck soul, and then she was on him. "Between" didn't seem to exist.

The force of the impact was colossal, rolling them both over so that the world whirled past in a blur of light and sleek golden fur. But somehow, the human was unharmed, his predator's claws shielding him from the cold stone, enfolding him -

-until a talon reached out and firmly hooked his arm, yanking it round behind him and twisting savagely with impossible strength until -

Zair threw his head back in an earsplitting scream as his shoulder came free from its socket, sending shooting pains throughout his entire body. But Sehria didn't stop there -- she continued to tug and twist at his arm, claws sinking into his flesh and drawing forth burning streams of blood, until he finally heard the snap of bone. She continued to apply force until the splintered remains cut through the skin of his forearm, and then he was suddenly airborne again, flying a short distance before skidding across the floor, the wounds on his chest and arm leaving thin streaks of red behind him.

Delirious with pain, he rolled onto his back and held the ruin that used to be his right arm close to his torn chest, gasping for breath. Stars were dancing before his eyes, and he found himself unable to form a coherent thought, his entire world lost in sheer agony.

He coughed once, a small amount of blood leaving his mouth along with the phlegm. He could feel a broken rib pressing into his lung, making his breathing rough and ragged. With no small amount of effort, he was able to say a few words, barely more than a whisper. "Please... mercy... please..."

His body gave him mercy, and he lost consciousness.

"Tell me, little one, tell me where dear Faseera is." Sehria's words echoed in his head as he slipped away, and for a few brief minutes, he dreamed of his sister.

***

It had all gone wrong. Zair was well adjusted to his life as a thief now, confident in his abilities but still enough of a rookie to be cautious. Until this job. He had grown a bit too bold, and one of his regular contacts had taunted him into this. He was to rob the wealthiest merchant in the town of his most prized possession: a small, ancient statue made of coloured glass, its value greater than the most flawless gem in his collection.

But he slipped up. He acted too rashly. He didn't do enough scouting before entering, and gave his position away almost immediately.

During his escape, he dropped the statue, and it shattered into a hundred pieces. He didn't even realize it when he stepped on a shard, tearing the sole of his foot open and leaving a clear trail back to his home.

Isn't it amazing, how a single mistake can lead to so much pain?

The bastard merchant's guards caught him a few streets away from safety.

The merchant had been furious, and Zair was just a lowly thief. In the lawless slums where he'd lived, "justice" was expected to be given out by the wronged party. The men had been intending to beat him to death, and they had come within a mere inch of it too.

He almost wished that they had.

Because as the chief - a big brute who looked to have about as much in the way of intelligence as he did in terms of morals, raised his scarred, agonizingly solid and by now bloody fist for another blow which would surely have been the last that Zair's abused body could stand, he'd found himself whispering as he felt himself start to slip into the cold peace of unconsciousness.

"I... I'm sorry, Faseera..."

In an instant, he had been back on his feet, despite being unable to so much as stand without support, and the merchant had thrust his piggy face up close, demanding who was this Faseera? An accomplice? A gang leader? Zair had tried to explain, but he'd frog-marched back to his home at knife point, where his sister was pacing, waiting anxiously for her beloved big brother to return. His ever-present cocky grin on his face, his latest prize in his hands.

Not bloody faced and tearful, and not surrounded by a crowd of brutal, armed men. The memory alone made him feel sick.

The merchant had realized the truth of the boy's words, of course. He hadn't cared a jot. The man's voracious reputation for women had become well known throughout the whole city, and Faseera was on he cusp of adolescence, already on her way to becoming a true beauty. In half a second, the merchants pettily cruel mind had found a much more satisfying form of revenge. Zair could go free, but his sister would be taken, to be wed on the day she came of age.

Leaving Zair, too weak to move, helplessly slumped against the floor, the man and his guards departed, taking his sister - struggling, begging, pleading with them, pleading with Zair, pleas that fell on scabbed ears that couldn't move more than their body's tongue to cry feebly no, please, not her, not Faseera, I promised her I'd look after her, please not her - with them. In the space of a few hours, his life had been torn apart. And he knew that every last bit of it had been entirely his fault.

It took Zair weeks to recover, under the care of his friend, the one who had put him in this position in the first place. Once he was able to stand on his own once again, Zair went straight to the merchant and threw himself at the man's feet, begging for some other way to repay him for the statue, begging for his sister's freedom. The fault was his own, she didn't need to be punished.

And so Zair found himself an indentured servant of the merchant for the next three years. His own personal sneak-thief. Zair quickly learned that the merchant had amassed his fortune not through commerce, but through thievery; and the only way for Zair to buy his sister's freedom was to acquire more and more treasures, until the merchant felt the value of the statue had been met.

But Zair was running out of time. His sister would be of age within the year, and the merchant was still unwilling to release her. Every day he saw him looking lustfully at her, and many times he had to throw himself between them as he became a bit too bold, grabbing at her breasts or ass right in front of him.

And then Zair heard about his only chance to secure their freedom: the Golden Lady and her riches. He fantasized about throwing a large sack of gold in the merchant's slimy face, grabbing his sister by the arm, and running across the desert once more. All he had to do was steal one thing, one tiny item from her palace...

***

His eyes slowly fluttered open as he felt a warmth against his body and a hand stroking through his hair. His vision was still dark and blurry, and he could hear a soothing voice speaking to him, but couldn't focus on the words. And then it came into view... his mother's face, exactly as he remembered her, the comforting look on her face that she always had when he would fall and scrape his knee.

He reached up with his left hand to place it against her cheek, his mind still unconsciously aware that his right was now totally useless. As soon as he made contact, he felt those silky feathers instead of human skin, and suddenly his vision cleared. His mother's beautiful features melted away, revealing that face beneath -- that cruel beak, those golden feathers covering every inch, those eyes that burned with some sort of compassionate fury.

And he was now able to recognize the hand combing through his hair as a talon, scratching against his scalp enough for him to feel every inch of pressure, but not deeply enough to draw blood. He jerked his hand back and choked back a scream as Sheria continued to hold him close to her body as if he were an infant.

"Now, now... don't be so silly. It's time to wake up, Zair. We still have much to discuss, after all..."

"No...please..." He tried to push away, but it was as if steel cables had been wrapped around him. Clasping him to the luxuriant warmth of his torturer's feathers in an improbably gentle, trapping embrace. Zair felt a small, weak sob shake his shoulders as the twisted and bloody ruin that was - that had been - his arm suddenly spiked again, sending a wave of white-hot agony rolling over him so that his vision actually blurred and dimmed from it. The spasm of his lungs dug into the splintered remains of his broken rib, and he collapsed entirely into the gryphon's warm embrace as more pain impaled him throughout his entire body, a weak keening sound coming from his throat.

"Sssh..." he felt the cruel talon, still slick with his blood, trace with a brutal gentleness across the side of his face. "Now, I think you may be wanting an explanation, hmmm?"

"Just..." the question welled up from inside him, his speech making his chest grate with a soft echo of the pain, just waiting to engulf him. "Just... why?"

"Precisely." Sehria smiled at him as she rolled over onto her back, lifting the little human up to sit, still clutching his ruined arm on the smooth curve of her great feathered chest, so that they could look eye to eye. "So, if I could continue where we left off before I was so rudely interrupted... you see, Zair, I am a collector. Ancient magical artifacts, exquisite trinkets and jewellery, items so steeped in history and lore that their very existence tells a thousand stories... anything unique and beautiful, I desire." She sighed. "Of course, the previous owners are all too often unwilling to give up their most prized possessions, but you little creatures are nothing but irritations, feeble obstructions to get to what I want. And you're so pleasingly fragile..."

As the gryphon spoke, Zair felt her cruel claws lightly caressing the wounds of his arm, making it sting. He flinched away, a whimper escaping his taut lips. "If this is over the amulet... I'll... I'll steal it..."

"No, no, no!" The creatures voice had shifted to that ice-cold snarl in an instant, and he flinched away. "I told you, little one: this is not about revenge. It's about you. I explained this all, Zair: your magnificently tortured soul, your tumultuous guilt and fear and confusion... it was like my eyes had been opened. All my trinkets were as nothing before the beauty of you. That is..." she sighed, almost regretfully, and Zair felt a tear escape his eyes, "...until now."

"My soul?" he couldn't speak above a whisper, but still it made every inch of his body hurt. "I... I don't..."

"Don't worry. There's more." Carefully, Sehria reached out and wiped the droplet of salty fluid and anguish away, her voice regaining that grotesque parody of tender compassion once more. "You see, Zair, your mind is developing. It's about to start going in directions I don't like. It's... growing up." She clicked her beak, as if the thought alone repulsed her. "So I intend to ensure it stays like that forever."

He stared. "What? You're... you're going to... what?"

The gryphon shrugged, jolting him like an earthquake. "Zair, my dear, my little human... I'm going to kill you. And then I am going to use a rather esoteric little piece of magic to record your exquisite little mind at the exact moment of death: when you are more terrified, more confused, and more helpless than you have ever been in your life. Can you imagine the beauty of it? And you will remain like that forever. I'll be able to gaze at the slightest intricacies and ethereal details of your soul for the rest of time. Won't it be just... perfect?"

Zair's mouth opened, but he couldn't think of any words to fill the crashing, shattering silence. He felt the very last of his hope die inside him. He was completely defeated -- physically, mentally, emotionally. All his best efforts to fight back against this terrible creature had been in vain, and only served to fuel her anger towards him, to make his tortures worse.

There's no way out of this. he thought to himself as his body shook with the force of his fear and sorrow. He released his arm and slumped forward, landing heavily on Sehria's chest, the golden feathers already stained red with his blood. He thought he could feel one of her arms reach around his back as if to embrace him, but he was virtually numb to all sensation. I'm going to die here... and I'll never... Faseera... I'm so sorry...

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt those talons dig into the left side of his torso, drawing more blood and a letting loose a moan of pure hopeless agony: his throat was simply too raw to scream any more. For a while - he didn't, couldn't tell how long - he just lay motionless on the warmth of the gryphon's sleek golden feathers, the only sound that of his echoing sobs and her soft purrs of cruel pleasure.

Eventually, he stopped. Quite suddenly, like the part of him that cried had just snapped. Zair felt himself find his voice. "Everything..." he whispered. "... everything I've done. Everything I stole. It was... it was... for Faseera." With a great amount of effort, he was able to raise himself onto his left elbow, barely able to support his own weight. "I wanted to give her a... a better life. The life she deserved. That was all I ever wanted. So... why?"

He heard Sehria open her beak to reply, but she said nothing as she noticed his eyes. They weren't looking at her -- they were directed up towards the ceiling, towards the curve of the massive dome.

"So what have I done? What horrible sin have I committed?" Ignoring the flaring pain in his throat as his voice grew louder and louder, Zair began to shout at the heavens above him, all the sorrow and torment in his voice replaced with pure anger. "WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT I DESERVE TO DIE LIKE THIS?"

He slumped face down, sobbing hopelessly into the thick warmth of his murderer's chest, and felt Sehria's claws enfold him, instantly transformed from razor-edged torturers to a gentle caressing, almost soothing. The gryphon hugged him close, growling tenderly, and whispered into his shaking ear, her words different. Somehow sincere, and... almost remorseful.

"Nothing. You have done nothing that is truly wrong, nothing that is hateful or despicable. You were simply a young man, with so much to give... and so much to learn about the world. You had potential, you had hopes, you had a whole life ahead of you." Trembling, Zair raised his head to find his tender tormentor's beak inches away, her eyes somehow softer, less terrifyingly alien. "You have done nothing wrong, Zair. And any sins you did commit, you did for your beloved sister. You are innocent. Confused, terrified, tormented, hopeless and so, so exquisitely innocent..." She smiled gently, and leaned forwards to kiss him gently on the cheek. "I think you're ready now."

Sehria's beak pressed against his skin, somehow cold as ice but still warm as a roaring fire. He pulled his head away. "Wait... please, wait..."

Zair gazed into Sehria's eyes, desperately, imploringly. "My sister, Faseera... she's still... I can't die until she's..." He squeezed his eyes back shut, trying to force away the image of Faseera together with the merchant, and the knowledge that she would never be free of him.

"Even as he dies..." the gryphon murmured, apparently to herself. She trailed off, her sleek head cocked, and Zair felt his tears flowing; felt the dull agony of his ruined arm, but he couldn't think of them. He'd failed Faseera. He was going to die like this, tortured to death by an impossible creature, and leave her to suffer without him. Please, not Faseera...

"Very well." Sehria whispered gently, her inhuman voice making his whole body tremble with fear. "Little Faseera will be freed, and... you know what? I think the Golden Lady herself may give her a dowry to attract a properly loving husband. She'll be safe, Zair. I'll ensure that she lives the happy life that you never will."

Her words should have comforted him, done something to calm him and ease his concerns, but they didn't. He simply couldn't die yet, not with so much unfinished. "At least let me say goodbye. I need to see her one last time, to know that she's..." His words caught in his throat, cut off by another gasp of pain. "Please, if nothing else, grant me this one kindness. Please..."

The creature raised an eyebrow, sighed, and without so much as blinking, reached out to clasp his broken arm. He gasped at the contact, feeling the bones shift inside the ragged flesh, barely able to bite back the sob of pain - and then Sehria twisted it savagely, and it felt like molten lava had been suddenly poured over every inch of his wounds. He screamed out loud, his vision exploding into blinding white stars, and collapsed into the soft feathers, not daring to even resist as she yanked harder, harder on it, and Zair tried to curl into a ball, the pain overwhelming his screams so that he simply moaned weakly to himself, all conscious thought lost in the inferno.

After a few minutes of catatonic torture, he realized that she'd released his arm: he hadn't even been aware of it. He clutched it close to him, still curled in the warmth, and started to weep, great sobs that shook his entire body.

"Consider that your price, little one." Sehria replied calmly, her eyes closed. The human stared at her, confusion rearing its head in the torrent of despaired emotions.

"Price?" He whispered, his words stumbling as he tried to hold back the sobs. The gryphon smiled tenderly.

"That was my payment, if you will. For this."

And the world swirled and vanished around him.

When it came back into view, he was standing -- somehow standing, despite his lack of strength -- in the merchant's home. He recognized the horrible scent of the man himself, and the wonderful smells of the various perfumes and flowers he had collected. And there, in the bed before him, was Faseera's sleeping form... and the grotesque form of the merchant next to her.

Zair felt a noise of pure anguish force its way up from his chest. How long had this been going on while he was spending his nights robbing treasures for this man, and the whole time he had been robbing his sister of her purity while he was away?

Slowly, he reached forward to brush the hair out of her eyes, but his hand passed right through her. He turned, barely aware that Sehria was behind him, watching.

"She'll hear every word, my dear. You can speak, but not touch."

Tears in his eyes, Zair knelt down, levelling his head with his sister's, inches away from her face. Reaching up with his left hand -- his right arm was still a grotesque mockery of anatomy, even here -- he wiped the tears away and began to speak his final words.

"Faseera... oh, sweet sister... I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through over the past five years. You've been... you've been so brave, even now."

Faseera stirred a bit in her sleep, and Zair found himself hoping that she would awaken, and he could look into her lovely eyes one last time. But they remained shut.

"I need you to stay brave for me, Faseera. This... this is your last night with this man. I promise. Soon you'll be free of this monster." And in the care of another, he almost added, darting his eyes quickly over to Sehria, who continued to sit and watch, a faint smile playing around the edges of her cruel beak.

"But... but I..." He felt himself start to sob again, but forced it back. He needed to stay strong for this, he couldn't cry in front of her. "I... I need to go away. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to see you again. This is what I must do for the sake of your happiness. And... and I accept that."

He leaned forward, hoping that just for one brief second, he would be allowed to make contact with her, to place one final soft kiss on her forehead. But he couldn't. Just as his hand had done, his lips passed through her, as though one of them wasn't even there.

He kept his eyes tightly shut as he pulled his head back, holding back the tears as best he could. "Goodbye, Faseera. Be happy... please, for me, be happy."

And then he wept. Down on his knees, he clenched his face in his left hand as the room faded around him and the tears began to flow freely, leaving him once again alone in the huge, empty dome with Sehria.

"Oh, little one... That was just-"

"Not one word." Zair interrupted, his mood suddenly swinging back to anger and catching the gryphon off guard. As if a switch had been flipped in his mind, the tears stopped and his voice hardened, suddenly emboldened by his farewell. "Don't say one word to me."

He heard a soft chuckle of amusement, but kept his back to her, barely able to keep himself on his knees. He certainly wasn't strong enough to stand or even turn his head. "I don't know what cruel torture you've saved for last, to finish me off. But whatever it is... it is nothing compared to what you're about to do to her. Kill me if you please, but you'll be robbing her of her brother, the only family she has left in this world, the only person who truly loves her."

He fell forward, catching his weight with his left hand. His right continued to hang uselessly at his side. "I don't know how long your kind lives, or if you can even die at all. But know this: when you finally meet your end, be it by age or by blade, I will be waiting for you in the afterlife. And all the pain you've inflicted on me tonight, and all the pain you will inflict on my sister in the nights to come, I will return it to you tenfold."

The switch flipped again, and Zair lost his courage once more, collapsing to the ground. His eyes were totally dry now -- there were no tears to accompany his final sobs in this world. He was reduced to the shivering, pathetic figure he was before, lying on his belly, completely exposed for Sehria's final torments. "Just... please, be done with it."

But Sehria did not move.

After a few moments, Zair looked up, trembling weakly. She was simply sitting there, watching him, her alien eyes utterly unreadable.

"I said -"

"I heard." The gryphon's voice was as expressionless as her eyes, and he felt a chill start to rise in his chest. "I heard what you said, Zair. And I reply: will you ever learn?"

He opened his mouth to speak, to stutter a question, and Sehria blurred and smashed straight into him, crushing him hard, hard against the solid stone. Zair felt another rib crack, and howled with pain as he tasted thick blood in his mouth, coppery and vile. He tried to open his streaming, weeping eyes, and found Sehria inches away, her terrible eyes aflame with rage.

"You lie here, all your hopes gone, all your life spent, and you dare to threaten me? You dare to act as if you have any control of any kind over your fate?" Zair's anger was forgotten, and he just whimpered as his murderer's claws pressed down hard on the ruin of his chest, sending shooting, white hot pain arcing all over him. Sehria didn't even acknowledge his weak cry. "You know nothing, Zair. I have earned myself a thousand times a thousand torments after my death. But that is a long time coming, I assure you, and I intend to savour every second of life that your uncaring "gods" gift me until then. And if that means your death, and hence my eternal damnation... then, oh, I will torment you all the more to compensate for it."

"Then do it..." he whimpered, feeling his vision blur as the cruel talons raked their way across his bare skin, leaving bloody and ragged lines of pain. "Just do it, you heartless monster..."

And the gryphon lifted him up into her embrace, her claws suddenly tender and gentle once more. He began to cry again, burying his face in the soft warmth of her feathers. When Sehria spoke, her voice was different again. Soft and intimate and loving.

"Monster, am I? Well, therefore, little one... I think I'm just going to just gobble you up."

Zair froze, staring up at her. Suddenly he realized: his terror could get worse. So, so much worse. "You can't..."

She smirked tenderly, and leant down, a long tongue darting out to lap lightly at his face, tasting his tears. "Wrong. I can, and I will. And I won't kill you first. I won't even rip you apart. I'm going to swallow you, and you'll still be alive, Zair, every inch of the way. You'll still struggle... and, oh yes, I can promise you, you will." she added, smirking at his mumbled protest:

"I... I'll give you no such pleasure."

"Wrong. In the dark and the hunger, everyone breaks down. It's so primal. So much blind terror... you will squirm for me, Zair. I promise you."

He was back on the cold ground now, the gryphon looming over him, her cruelly hooked beak slightly open so that the terrified thief could glimpse the soft pink flesh behind it.

"Please... don't..." It was his last hope. His last words.

She smiled, a warm, gentle smile that seemed almost akin to that of his beloved sister, and said simply, "No. You are mine now, little one."

And softly, Sehria opened her cruel beak, and it embraced Zair's head like an old friend.

The second he felt the soft tongue almost caressing his cheek, and felt the hot breath against its face, Zair went limp. He was completely, totally finished. He didn't have the energy to struggle anymore, and couldn't see the point. Sehria was fully in charge of the situation -- anything he did would only make things worse for him, and better for her.

Her tongue began to stroke across his face, cleaning it of every dried tear, every smear of blood. He shouted briefly in pain as she suddenly jerked her head back, pulling his shoulders in to join his head, the sudden pressure on his right shoulder causing him to scream out, intensified by the tip of her hooked beak cutting into his back.

And, just as Sehria predicted, he began to struggle. His brain insisted that he couldn't just allow this to happen, he had to fight, he had to get out, that Faseera wouldn't want this, even if it meant her own happiness. He had to try. Anything.

He reached out with his left hand, struggling to find something to hold onto, to push off of. He felt a handful of feathers in his grip, possibly from Sehria's throat or chest, and tugged as hard as he could, trying to pull them free, to force her to open her mouth in a shout so he could slip free...

But he was weak with pain and terror, and the only response was a shiver of the dark world around him as Sehria laughed - muffled by his body, but all the same deafening to him. A titanic swallow brought his head into the gryphon's hungry throat, and he groaned as muscular walls crushed all the tender bruises on his face. The pressure was incredible, the heat exhausting, and the pure despair as suffocating as the musky, animalistic scent that wafted over him - with an acrid, almost alchemical undertone...

Stomach acids, he realised.

Oh no. Please, no...

He howled with terror, tossing his head back desperately - but could barely move an inch: the walls were slick and soft, but stronger than steel. Zair felt the beast's wet tongue twine around the bloody ruin of his arm, and the pain was unimaginable. He screamed out loud, legs flailing wildly as Sehria lifted them off the ground - but another swallow brought his cracked ribcage into her dripping gullet, and suddenly screaming was too painful. Zair slumped inside his predator's throat, sobbing weakly to himself. He could hear the pounding of his doomed heart - and the thump-thump beat of hers, too. Sehria's pulse was slower than his would even have been normally, but every beat made his world shake with it's sheer force. She was an alien creature, a terrible goddess of power. He could never hope to prevail.

"No... this can't..." He couldn't just accept it like that. Zair snarled desperately, twisting his entire body sideways in a desperate attempt to escape, struggling to ignore the horrible pain as his arm was twisted into a more unnatural shape and his ribs scratched against his lungs. Frantically, he felt his mind conjuring up images of the creature gagging, choking, spitting him out dripping but alive. Alive. He had never realized just how much he loved that word.

He squirmed, trying to ignore the memory of her words: you will squirm for me, Zair, shifting left, right - he was lightly built, but surely the gryphon couldn't just swallow him like this: it was absurd, almost surrealistically impossible. Zair gritted his teeth, shoved his head back with a sob of fear, and-

What was left of his right arm was suddenly pulled and crushed into the predator's engorged throat. Zair couldn't even think of squirming any more.

He screamed so hard he could taste blood from it, and he felt the growl as Sehria laughed softly at him. Zair just collapsed utterly, not trying to struggle, not trying to scream, just letting the pure agony consume him. He couldn't fight any more. He was exhausted. He was defeated.

He seized up in Sehria's throat as the pain in his arm and chest became too much to bear. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, struggling for breath, but none came. He could feel it now -- his lung had finally been pierced. Blood began leaking from the corners of his mouth, dripping down ahead of him to give her stomach a sample of things to come.

Zair was completely paralyzed with pain. Even his legs, which were now firmly in the clutches of Sehria's beak, were totally still. His head began to spin as he felt himself grow faint, his damned survival instinct keeping him alive even now, when he was praying for death.

Sehria took another swallow, forcing his legs inside her throat, leaving only his feet outside now. Zair felt his head break free of the throat, a brief moment of relief washing over him before he realized where he now was. Sehria took those last swallows slowly, taking her time, and within minutes Zair slid easily down into her belly, the tight confines forcing him into a tight ball, twisting his shattered arm behind his back painfully and forcing his knees to press against his broken ribs.

Still desperate to survive, Zair managed to draw in a few shuddering breaths, keeping his eyes shut tight against the darkness. In the span of a few seconds, he could see it -- he heard so many speak of it, but never believed it to be true. Whether it was natural or through Sehria's doing he didn't know, but every single moment of his life seemed to appear before him at the exact same second.

He saw his earliest memory, the day his father proudly presented his son Fahesh to his closest friends, gloating about what he would accomplish.

He saw the moment when he learned his mother was to give birth to a younger sister, and felt the anger he had known at that time, thinking this new baby would take his place in his parents' hearts.

He felt it as he grew to love her from the second she appeared in the world.

He saw the day he taught Faseera where their mother would hide the sweets, and how to sneak them out of that hiding place without her knowing.

He saw the day Faseera came home from her first day of school, crying because she had been made fun of. He felt the sorrow in his own heart as he comforted her.

He saw the day his father told them he was going off to fight in the skirmishes.

He saw the day his mother received the news of his death.

He felt his own bitterness as she met a new man, less than a year after he lost his father. He felt his sorrow when she wed him. He felt his fury when he treated them badly.

He felt the crushing guilt as Faseera was bedridden. He felt the rush of adrenaline when he stole the amulet, the pure joy in his heart when Faseera's health returned, and the soul-crushing sorrow when she was taken from him.

And now he felt only fear and pain.

The last of his breath left Zair in a low, pathetic whimper as he felt every muscle in his body begin to relax. Time seemed to slow to a halt for him as the dizziness overtook him, the lack of oxygen and the horrible pain finally taking its toll on his body. Just before he slipped away, he could almost hear Faseera's voice ringing in his head.

"I forgive you, brother. Thank you."