GARGOYLES: Re-Awakening

Updraft:2

Demona was looking out over the city, wondering if Goliath would come in to view. He and the Elder had once again left abruptly after awakening. Goliath was still behaving as if no time had past, as if the castle were still in Scotland and he were still the leader, free to come and go and execute plans without explaining himself to the others. After one thousand years, Demona found that insulting. It was she who should be in charge. It was she who understood what this life was.

Then again, she had her own secrets. More than that, she had a plan that rendered whatever Goliath was doing moot. If he didn't trust Xanatos, that was fine. If he didn't trust her, that was fine too. Her intuition was telling her that in spite of his recent attempt to regain control, Goliath was still ready to use the Phoenix Gate to go back and leave all this behind. Once they had it, and once she was standing in front of him with it, he would go along. His feelings for their past, and for her, would win out.

Still, she worried about Xanatos. He was cunning. If Goliath were to push whatever he was doing far enough that it lead to a direct confrontation, things could get complicated. Xanatos might push back hard enough to create a situation in which he learned the truth, or at least part of it. In that case, it might become difficult to get away and use the Gate. She wished Xanatos would hurry up and get what they needed to recover it. His insistence on finesse was a constant annoyance. Demona always faced her challenges head on, and while it sometimes elicited pain, it had always lead to victory.

"Evenin', Lass."

Demona startled. The Elder was behind her and she had not heard him coming. A lapse that made her uncomfortable.

"Did I startle, yeh? Forgive me. Just an old warrior forgettin' his manners."

"Where is Goliath?" Demona asked.

"Oh, he'll be along. Tryin' to wrap his mind around all that's happened. As we all are," the Elder replied. "Lassie, I was hoping I might speak with you."

The Elder sounded tender. Demona was disarmed, temporarily.

"You know I remember when you were just a hatchling. Quite a spirit you had. Of all the young to come out of the rookery, you were one of those I worried about the most." The Elder paused a moment to put his hands on Demona's shoulders. "I don't remember if I laughed or cried when you decided to pair up with the other Gargoyle I worried most about!" He chuckled, and let her go. Demona looked down to her right, bashful, like the young Gargoyle he remembered.

"Lass, I still worry for yeh. The others haven't the experience, and Goliath hasn't the clarity to see that these past thousand years have not been kind. They've changed yeh—put something painful inside. Small wonder, alone as yeh were. No castle, no allies, no kin." He looked her in the eyes. "I'm here again now. You can talk to me."

For a moment, Demona felt a thousand years younger. The three scars on her shoulders ached. She remembered the day he had carried her away after her punishment. She remembered how he had tried to comfort her. She wanted to fall into his arms and be the child again. She nearly did.

But it was too late for that. A thousand years was a weight that could never be dropped. But that was why her plan was the only plan. As she looked at the Elder, her heart was momentarily filled with joy at the thought that she would see him again, not as the Gargoyle who had suffered for so long alone, but as the young Gargoyle she had been. The longing for that stuck her like a knife. She pushed it aside, then smiled.

"Still the tender guardian," she said. "Your scar hides your true nature." She put her hand next to his face, next to the scar than ran down from his forehead to a yellowed eye.

"To what nature are yeh referrin', Lass?" He asked.

"Kindness," Demona said. "Believe me when I tell you, there is very little of that in this world."