FSE

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The day Chirl first met her started like any other. He was woken by the sun shining in through the window in his room, blinked a few times against the sudden light, and rolled over on his back with a groan. His red-feathered wings tugged free under him to spread out a bit, though the one on the left quickly found the stone wall his bed was pushed up against.

The gryphon drew in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it back out in a long sigh. He'd been dreaming something about running through the streets of the city, but as dreams usually did the details were quickly escaping his grasp, burned away by the light of dawn.

His eyes opened again to stare up at the ceiling. His room didn't hold much in the way of decoration, but the ceiling was painted in a vivid image of a blue summer sky with thin, wispy clouds drifting past on a gentle wind. It was an image that always brought a hint of a smile to the corners of his beak. It wasn't like he lacked the freedom to go for a flight under the real sky whenever he wanted, but waking up to it still made waking up worth it.

With another sigh and stretch of his body he rolled to the right, folding in his wing as his shoulder crossed it, and quite literally rolled out of bed. His feline hindpaws found purchase on the throw rug covering the tile floor first, followed a moment later by the more eagle-like paws of his forelegs. He shook himself out, which caused a couple of loose red feathers to go fluttering through the air, and took the few steps required to cross the room to the full body mirror on the opposite wall next to his desk.

Gryphons were vain creatures, and Chirl was no exception. Keeping all of his feathers preened and orderly wasn't just a matter of personal hygiene; it could be a matter of life and death while flying. He didn't expect to do much flying today, but he still took his time to inspect his reflection and adjust a few red feathers here and there down his chest and out along his wings. Then he turned sideways to continue the inspection down the white fur of his feline half. There was a large patch on his hip where the hairs were standing on end, probably from rolling around in uneasy sleep.

He couldn't quite shake the feeling left behind from the dream. He'd been running, but that was all he could remember. Not why he was running, or from what, or to where - just the feeling of running. It did serve as an acceptable reason for why his fur looked the way it did, though, and so he set about brushing it down with his wings, helped by a few licks of his tongue.

Once he was satisfied that the fur was once again smooth and nice looking he turned around to the other side, but there was nothing there that needed attention. He continued his turn until he was once again facing the mirror head on and fluffed out his feathers, laid them all back down, and gave himself one last inspection. Everything was in order; every feather fell back down in its proper place and his fur remained smooth and glossy.

A chime sounded from the hallway beyond his room's door and his ears perked up. He was starting to run late. He gave himself one more look in the mirror just in case, and then pushed open the wooden door into the hallway.

The hallway was lit with lanterns that burned without either oil or wax, or for that matter fire. Like most of the entire building they were fueled by magical energy, an excess of luxury that he had come to take for granted in the few years he'd been here. There were plenty of windows as he walked, but all of them were facing west out over the city, and while the city itself was getting bathed in the morning light it left the windows in deep shade. After passing several doors like his own and finding all but one of them closed he reached the spiral staircase connecting the different floors. He was on the third floor now, and the kitchen was at the bottom. There was technically another floor above him, but it was mostly for access to the roof.

As he descended the steps an old song began to echo in the back of his head, causing him to quietly hum along as he took the staircase by two and three steps at a time. He couldn't recall the actual words to the first part of the song, the slow build towards the crescendo, the literal quiet before the storm. He reached the bottom floor just as he also reached the part he could remember, and so he broke into song as he half walked, half ran down this hallway.

"Wild were the winds that came, with the thunder and the rain ..." He did a quick spin on the spot, glad to have the hallway to himself so no one saw his silly antics. A few more steps and he reached the door to the kitchen and communal dining area, but he waited a moment longer to make his entrance. "Nothing ever could contain," he sang as he put a paw against the door. "The rising of the STORM!" With the last line he shoved the door open.

He was met by the attention of five other gryphons already seated on pillows around the two tables in the middle of the room. They were in an assortment of colors as gryphons often were; from cream-colored bodies and light brown feathers to eye-grabbing turquoise feathers against mousegrey fur.

"Well," one of them said in a dry and slightly sarcastic tone. "I see someone had a good night's sleep." It was Snowdrift, the current administrator and self-pronounced leader of the group. While his fur matched Chirl's own white hue he had light blue feathers in place of Chirl's red. He was also easily half again Chirl's height at the shoulder, making him all but tower above everyone else in the kitchen.

"Your sister saw to that," Chirl retorted on his way past the table Snowdrift and two others - Frays and Kes - were sitting at. There was a light chuckle from the both of them at the comment, but Snowdrift just shot him a look of disappointment. Chirl didn't really care. It wasn't that he and Snowdrift were at each other's throats or anything; they just didn't get along. They could work together, but when it came to hanging out together they simply had nothing in common. Chirl wasn't even sure if the other gryphon had a sister at all, though chances were good that he did.

The kitchen counter held a few plates of prepared breakfast foods. There were a few slices of bread, some boiled eggs, crispy bacon, strawberry jam, and some green fruits he'd only had the misfortune of trying once. They were so bitter he'd barely been able to open his beak to spit it out, but of course Snowdrift ate them as if they were candy. Just another radical difference between the two gryphons.

He took an empty plate and loaded it with his usual light breakfast. A single slice of bread, two strips of bacon to cover the bread, and a single boiled egg. He rarely had much appetite in the morning and this was often more than enough to see him through to lunch. With the plate full he set it on a small contraption consisting of three parallel metal bars that all turned upwards to meet in a wooden handle. It was a simple thing but it made it so much easier for a gryphon to carry things around that had to be kept level. Instead of trying to hop around on three legs he just picked it all up by the handle with his beak and turned to the other table where the last two gryphons were sitting.

One was a long term friend of his, Zen. With a sand-colored tawny hue to his fur and feathers the color of cream he practically faded into the background compared to some of the showier colorations their kind were known to have, but he made up for it in being the most level-headed drake Chirl had ever met. If ever there was a problem that needed fixing right now and panic was knocking on the door it was Zen who'd calmly find a solution to the issue.

The other gryphon was new, however. His fur matched Zen's almost perfectly, but his feathers were a fiery orange; a far more showy display than Zen would ever manage. He was younger than the rest of the group and looked at the same time uncertain and excited. He'd been hired just a couple of days ago, and Chirl wracked his brain trying to recall his name as he set his breakfast on the table. Bream? he thought. Isn't that a fish?

"Chirl, Chirl, Chirl!" Zen started before he'd even gotten himself seated on the pillow. Obviously gryphons couldn't use the chairs so commonly used by humans and elves and dwarves, but pillows were quite sufficient for them to feel like they weren't sitting directly on the floor. "We love you, you know that. Absolutely love you and want you to be happy and so on. So please, Chirl. Leave the singing to the hens."

Chirl was pretty sure his singing wasn't that bad. Sure, he didn't have any real training in the art of carrying a tune but he was yet to make glass break with it or send stray dogs on the run to get away from the sound of his voice. Rather than take the bait he started carefully peeling the boiled egg, chipping a small hole in the shell with a claw and breaking it away.

"But Snow's right, much as I know you hate to hear those words," Zen continued without seeming to care that he wasn't getting an answer. "You do seem to be in a particularly good mood today. Any occasion? Some juicy secret for the rest of us to gossip about?"

"Nope," came Chirl's one-word reply. The truth was there was no reason. Yes, he'd slept well despite the dream, whatever it had been about, and yes he was in a good mood, but there was no reason for either. He knew Zen would never take that as a valid answer, however. He glanced over at the new drake and was met with a look of golden-yellow eyes that looked desperate to join the conversation but afraid to make a fool of himself in the process. "I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name at the introduction," he said and continued peeling the egg.

Orange feathers rose along his forehead and his ears perked forward. Little tufts of hair dangled from the tips of them, Chirl noticed. Most chose to cut them but keeping them long was starting to become a trend, he'd heard. "Beam," the younger gryphon introduced himself.

I was close, Chirl thought to himself as he picked the last piece of shell off the egg.

Beam shifted his weight nervously back and forth on the pillow, his beak opening only to close without saying anything a couple of times. Chirl took the time to cut the egg in half with a claw and lay it out on top of the bacon. "You didn't catch my name either, did you?" he finally said. A panicked look quickly crossed Beam's eyes, but Chirl waved it aside. "There's a lot to keep track of during introduction, and names are pretty far down the list. I'm Chirl." He gave a nod to the gryphon next to him. "That's Zen." He glanced over to the other table. "And over there's Frays, Kes, and Snowdaft."

Beam blinked a couple of times at the last name. "Wait, is he really named -" he started, but Zen cut him off. "Drift. Snow-drift." Chirl shrugged his wings and picked up his breakfast to eat. The bacon was still crispy.

"Alright, listen up," came Snowdrift's voice from the other table. Chirl was almost certain he'd waited until that exact moment to speak, but nothing was going to stop him from eating his breakfast. "As you know, new guy on the roster starting today. Beam, welcome to the Cirillan Library."

The other gryphons - save for Chirl who had his beak full of bread, bacon, and egg - greeted Beam in unison, and Beam looked like he regretted every choice in life that had taken him to this exact moment in time.

Snowdrift waited for the greetings to die down before continuing. "So this week's schedule is slightly shifted. Frays, you'll be at the reception. We're expecting a delivery for Lady Ciri's collection tomorrow or day after depending on the weather. Kes, Chirl, we three will be on the floor."

Chirl swallowed his food and nodded without saying anything. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zen sit up a little more straight on the pillow as he put two and two together. There was only one important job left on the roster.

"Zen, you'll be on attendant duties this week," Snowdrift continued. "Beam, you'll be shadowing him." Beam sat up as well at that, looking across the table at Zen with a questioning look that was answered with a similar silent nod. "Breaks at the usual times and so on, you all know the drill."

Chirl stood up from his pillow once Snowdrift was done. "Lucky bastards," he commented to Zen and Beam before taking the plate back to the counter.

To the inexperienced eye the library's uniform could be mistaken for a harness, but it was a lot more than that. While it did consist of a basic harness to wrap around a gryphon's body it came with a number of satchels and hooks to allow for easily carrying items around without the use of one's beak, which could itself be quite hazardous for sensitive books. Chirl had felt awkward in it at first, but had gotten used to it as time went by and he saw his coworkers wearing the same thing. Now he barely even thought about it when he was at work.

He pushed the book cart ahead of him as he made his way through the library. Its size still awed him to this day, even after working here for several years. The aisles of bookcases seemed to go on forever, interspersed with display cases showing choice items from Lady Ciri's personal collection of magical artifacts. There were gems and boxes and decks of playing cards and Chirl had long since given up on trying to remember them all, let alone what power they allegedly held. All he knew and needed to know was that Lady Ciri had the necessary power to contain them safely for the library's patrons to admire.

The entire library only existed due to her power. It wasn't built in the same way any other building was; as he had come to understand it was created by her magic, put together from her imagination, and sustained to this very day. From its marble floors to gold-trimmed ceiling, the entire library was magic. To Chirl - as well as the rest of the gryphons - it was also both home and a really good job.

He turned the cart down one of the aisles. At the far end of it two kids were running around one of the display cases, one containing a skull that would always look as if it was facing you, which could get quite surreal when multiple people were standing all around it claiming it was facing them and no one else. Since it looked like they were keeping their proper distance and weren't about to topple the case he grabbed the nearest book from the cart and returned it to its place on the shelf. A few shelves further down and another book was returned. Then he grabbed the handle of the cart with his beak to pull it back out to the center aisle so he could move deeper into the library's countless bookshelves.

A few books on the life cycle of some rare plants got returned to where they belonged before Chirl realized he was going to have a problem. The next book was about how to make a healing tea from the seeds of a plant he'd never seen before, which wasn't all that uncommon in the library. He even knew exactly where it went. The problem was that it belonged on the very top shelf and he hadn't brought the stepladder that would be required. He could go back for it, but he'd have to bring the book cart all the way back as well, and Snowdrift would undoubtedly have a few mocking comments if he noticed.

He glanced back and forth down the aisle. It was still early morning and there weren't many patrons yet. His head tilted back to look up at the top shelf as he weighed his options. Fly up there to put the book back?

Idiot, he thought to himself. You're a gryphon, not a hummingbird.

He could climb up there. He knew from experience that the shelves could easily carry his weight, and it was generally agreed upon that they were effectively indestructible. He picked up the book from the cart, hesitated, and set it back down. Really, he should just go and get the ladder.

It'd be so much faster to just do the climb, though.

He grabbed the book again and pushed it into one of the holding satchels by his left shoulder. Then he cast another quick glance down the aisle to make sure no one was watching before standing back on his hindlegs and reaching up for the highest shelf his taloned forepaws could get to. It was still two shelves too low.

"Not a problem," he muttered quietly to himself. "No one'll know."

One hindpaw lifted off the floor to set its claws against the lowest shelf. Then he pulled himself upwards, reached up for the next shelf, and raised the other hindpaw as well. He felt off balance, like the bookcase would fall on him any moment even if he knew it was impossible. Just a little further and he'd be done. He pulled himself higher and made sure he could reach the right shelf. Then he carefully eased his paw into the satchel to retrieve the book so he could return it.

"Excuse me?" The voice was soft, slightly concerned, and entirely unwelcome. The sheer timing of it was astounding. Of course someone would come looking for him at that exact moment.

"I will be with you ... in a moment," he answered while trying to reach up to the book's shelf. He should've climbed a level higher; just because he could reach the shelf didn't mean he could actually reach high enough to get the book onto it. He tried to pull himself higher still, with the book just barely making it up over the edge of the shelf and in between two others. If he could just get a couple of inches higher ...

Paws grabbed at his hindquarters and pushed upwards. He let out a startled squawk in surprise, but quickly pushed the book in between the others while he had the chance. The indignity of it made him feel like he was blushing furiously under his already red feathers. Snowdrift definitely wouldn't have helped him, so it had to be turquoise-feathered Kes who decided to amuse himself with such an awkward display rather than helping the waiting patron.

As soon as he'd gotten the book pushed properly onto the shelf the helping paws let go of him, and he could feel himself drop back down where he'd been. Now he could hold onto shelves with both forepaws, though, making it that much easier to climb back down.

"Seriously, Kes," he started when the first hindpaw found purchase on the stone floor. "Why would ... you ..." He turned his head to shoot Kes an angry glare, but the feathers he saw weren't turquoise. At all. It wasn't Kes. Or Snowdrift, for that matter.

His very first impression was that he was looking in a mirror. Red feathers and white body; he usually only saw that combination when inspecting himself in one. But then the differences started becoming more apparent. The eyes were hazel brown where his were more yellow. The beak was paler than his. The feathers weren't quite the same shade as his; they were more vibrant where his could seem rusty. He cut the hairtufts on his eartips; hers were long enough to make the ears bend a little bit.

Her. Yes, her facial features were definitely feminine. It might be hard to tell for other species, but to him there was no mistaking it. The voice that had spoken moments ago had a notably female tone to it as well.

"I'm sorry," he quickly said once the first surprise had worn off. "I thought you were one of my colleagues."

She smiled; a tug of the muscles at the edges of her beak that continued all the way into hazel eyes. "I'm sorry to disappoint," she answered. "Do you often go climbing on the bookshelves ..." Her head dipped to look at the name tag on his harness. "Chirl?"

This had the potential to become an actual problem really quickly. "Please do not tell my boss," he pleaded as he let go of the shelf with his left forepaw to come back down to stand on all fours.

"Oh, I won't," she laughed. "At least, not if you can help me find what I'm looking for."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Even without such convincing incentive I would do my very best. Which book has been eluding you?"

She made a frustrated click of her tongue within her beak. "That's the problem, I don't actually know." She spread out her left wing to indicate the other row of bookcases from the one he'd climbed. "I am looking for a tome or the like on how to perform a rain dance."

Chirl thoughtfully looked her over. She had a lithe build and most likely the potential to be a dancer, but she didn't quite have the muscle tone in her legs that he'd expect. "Beginner or intermediate?" he asked.

The female gryphon folded her wing in along her side again and cocked her head. "Well, pride says intermediate, humility says beginner. I know how to dance though I'm a far cry from an expert, but I don't know how to channel magic into it. Or ... however a rain dance actually works."

"Beginner it is," Chirl said with a quick nod. "You can always come back for something more advanced, but this way you won't accidentally hurt yourself." He placed both forepaws on the handle of the book cart and began pushing it down the aisle. "Follow me, please, and we'll find what you need."

He didn't ask her for her name. The library had a steady flow of visitors but very few regulars; to most it was a place to go for very specific information on magic but not a place to frequent. Even if it was rare for another gryphon to visit - and a female, at that - he had no expectation to see her again once she'd gotten her books. And even so he'd probably have forgotten the name by then.

"Do you have an affinity for specific elements?" he asked as he led the way towards the section for physical magics. She shook her head in reply.

"Well, truthfully I've never been tested for it," she elaborated. "But I haven't had any of the experiences you usually hear about with unexplained things happening." She adjusted the messenger bag she wore over her shoulder and neck as if self-conscious about this lack of magic.

To Chirl it was not at all uncommon for someone to come looking for magic when they didn't have it themselves, but of course she had no way of knowing that. "It would be easier to do a rain dance if you had an affinity with water or air," he continued. "But don't be dissuaded by that; easier with does not mean impossible without. Let's turn left here." He turned the book cart into the first aisle of the physical magics section, set it up against the first bookcase, and pressed down on the lock for the wheels with one forepaw.

"Can you use magic?" she asked curiously while he parked the cart.

"Nah, not really," he answered her. "I can just barely muster enough to light a candle if I concentrate. But that's the thing; what you're after doesn't rely on innate ability. Very few people would have the power to affect the weather on the scale of actually hiding the sun behind rain clouds."

He moved down the aisle as he spoke, quickly skimming over the marking plates on the shelves with the other gryphon following close behind. "So you think I will be able to do it?" she asked.

"Absolutely." He paused to look up. "Or at the very least I see no immediate reason why not. Here, this should be good." He pulled out a book from the third shelf. "Thirty-Two Dances For Fun And Profit," he read the title aloud before handing it to her. She sat back on her haunches to open it and flip through a few pages, then closed it again and put it in her bag.

"Thank you. I do hope it will be useful," she said.

"We're not done yet," Chirl replied with a chuckle. "I have a couple more in mind that should fit what you need." With a light swish of his tail he turned around to the shelves behind him. "Let's see here, theory, theory ..." His eyes wandered over the books until he spotted the one he was thinking of. "Ahh, yes. Step By Step," he said while pulling it out. "Making The World Watch." He handed it over, and this time she took his word for it and simply put it straight into the bag. "That one is about why some dance steps carry magic in them, even if the dancer does not. It should help you understand the how of a rain dance."

She cocked her head curiously to the side. "You know, for someone who can't use magic himself you seem to know a lot about this."

He shrugged, which made his wings give a quiet rustle. "I've worked here for a few years now; you do tend to pick up a few things that way. I know a lot of magical theory, both from listening to discussions between patrons and actual formal training." He raised a forepaw to point past the aisle they were standing in. "Just one more about water magic in general and you should be set."

"Oh, by all means," she said and stepped aside so he could get back to the book cart. He unlocked the wheels with a quick kick of a paw, pulled it into the center aisle by his beak, and then pushed it forward towards the water section. They walked in silence for a little bit before she asked, "Is it true what I hear about the library's owner? Umm, Lady Ciri, I believe?"

It wasn't the first time he'd heard that question, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last time, either. "That depends entirely on what you have heard," he answered in a feigned bored tone.

She looked like she regretted bringing up the topic, but it was one it was difficult to just put back and ignore it had been mentioned. "About why she insists on hiring our kind rather than elves or the like," she clarfied after checking no one was immediately around them. "I've ... tried asking others who used to work here, but ..." She trailed off and Chirl nodded.

"Lady Ciri enjoys her privacy and does not want too many rumors to be floating around. We have an arrangement that works well for everyone, that is about all we're allowed to say." He looked over his shoulder at her with a little shrug. "And yet everyone seems to hear the same rumor, don't they? And keep seeking employment here. And keep getting hired." He gave a little lift of one eyeridge at the last part, hoping she'd get the implication.

She opened her beak to say something, but no sound actually made it out. After a couple of seconds she closed it again and nodded. "I understand, I think."

"Good. Ah, here we are." Again he turned the book cart in between two long rows of bookcases and parked it. "Let's see here, where do we have ..." He frowned. "Well that's not good, it should've been right there." He pointed to a small hole between two other books on one of the shelves. "I'm afraid someone else has it."

"What was it called?" she asked.

Chirl looked up to the next shelf, then the one below just in case, but it wasn't there. "Leading The Water To The Horse," he said.

"Umm, do you mean this one?" He turned to look at her, and she pointed at one of the books on the cart.

"Oh, it can't be that easy," he commented as he returned to look more closely, but it was. Right there on the cart he'd been pushing around was the last book she needed. "Well, err ... There you go," he said as he handed it over. "It's a quick reference guide on what makes water magic work, so that should be good for making it rain."

"Thank you so much," she said while putting the book in her bag. "I must say, you definitely know your way around here. I felt so lost trying to find these on my own."

Chirl gave a short bow of his head. "That is what we are here for. If you find you need something more advanced I promise that all of my colleagues are just as skilled at navigating this maze of knowledge."

She grinned and perked her ears. "And if they're not I know who to come to for actual expertise, Chirl. Oh. I'm Breeze, by the way." She sat back on her haunches again and held out a taloned paw. It wasn't a common greeting between gryphons, but the widespread use of the handshake among other species had been adapted all the same.

"Breeze," he repeated as he took her paw in his. "Well, that name sure is a breath of fresh air."

She laughed. "I hear that at least once a week. Mmm, Chirl. Well rounded," she said with a short nod. "If a little heavy."

He wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but it felt rude to ask a patron of the library to clarify something like that so he let the matter rest. "Now, do be sure not to overdo it," he said instead. "You don't want to cause huge storm fronts, I hope."

"No no, nothing of the kind," she answered with a quick shake of her head. "Just enough to water the fields if need be." She closed the flap on the messenger bag and smiled. "Thank you again for your help," she said with a bow of her head before turning back to the center aisle. Chirl followed, but stopped by the book cart to watch her walk down towards the checkout desk at the far end of the library.

He could see it at a distance, the way she walked, the light and graceful movements, the spring in her step. She wasn't dancing, but she also wasn't not dancing as she went. It looked -

"Excuse me," a gruff voice said behind him, and he turned his head to see an older human man, with wrinkles and a thick white beard. "Do you happen to know where I can find some books on using fire magic in non-destructive ways?"

"Certainly," Chirl answered as helpfully as he could. Returning the rest of the books on the cart was clearly going to take all day with all these interruptions. It always did. "If you will follow me, sir, we'll see what we can find." He unlocked the wheels of the cart and pulled it into the center aisle. When he looked up to see where Breeze had gotten to she was already gone.

By the time the lunch break rolled around Chirl hadn't even cleared half the cart thanks to constant interruptions, and he knew there'd be at least one new stack of books waiting for him at the front desk. This was how days usually went in the Cirillan Library, but he didn't really mind the interruptions. He liked feeling helpful, like he knew something he was in a position to share with others who needed that knowledge.

Sure, none of the other interruptions had come from a patron quite as pleasing to the eyes as the female gryphon who had wanted to summon the rain, but it didn't matter if it was grumpy old dwarf or eternally youthful elf who needed help finding the right books; Chirl put a professional pride in being able to help with anything that was requested.

Still. She'd seemed nice, and more than usual he hoped for her that she'd be successful with her project.

Chirl was the first member of the stff to return to the kitchen and so their internal agreements said he had to set out lunch for everyone. A large cabinet at the end of the counter was powered by Lady Ciri's magic to keep its contents always pleasantly cooled, and from there he withdrew a selection of fresh meats that had been delivered from the local butcher earlier in the day. He laid them out on a number of plates for easy choosing. For lunch they never cooked the meat; gryphon stomachs worked well raw meat, and the taste was quite pleasant.

Fresh bread was waiting in the bread box, and he quickly cut it into thick slices to go with the meat. He had no need of a knife for this, as the talons on his forepaw easily cut straight through crust and soft center far more easily than an awkwardly wielded bread knife would ever accomplish.

With both bread and meat prepared he proceeded to pull out one of the drawers in which they kept their mugs. These weren't exactly ordinary mugs; the handles were wider to make it easier for a forepaw to hold them, and the rim had two small spouts to help direct the drink. With a beak it was nearly impossible to drink from an ordinary mug without sticking the entire beak into it, but the spouts made it much easier to pour the drink into the beak. He grabbed the mugs and divided them out between the tables, then went to the cooling cabinet again to retrieve the bottles of fruit juice.

He'd just closed the cabinet door when Kes and Snowdrift arrived as a mix of light blue and turquoise feathers, done with their own duties on the library floor at least for now. He caught just enough of the end of their conversation to learn that there was a storm over the ocean keeping the ships from reaching the harbor, so the artifact delivery wouldn't be for the next couple of days at least. Chirl was glad it wasn't his problem; Lady Ciri was known to get antsy when a new piece for her collection was about to arrive, but that would be up to Zen and the new guy ...

Ream? No, that can't be right.

... to deal with.

He set two bottles of juice on each table. One was a completely standard grape juice from local farms, while the other was an import from somewhere sunnier and warmer. He couldn't recall the name, but it had a pleasant yellow color and sweet taste. Snowdrift gave him a nod of thanks as he passed, which was about as cordial as the two ever got.

Chirl was halfway through a lunch consisting of small cubes of beef washed down with the imported juice when his ears perked to the sound of laughing voices approaching in the hallway. One voice was definitely Zen, so the other had to be the new guy. He glanced sideways to Snowdrift and Kes, whose conversation stopped abruptly when they heard as well. He turned on his sitting pillow to face the door.

"... ree times." The new guy's voice became suddenly clearer as Zen pushed the door open ahead of him. "And you're saying we're doing this every day?"

The new guy followed close behind Zen's cream and sandy colors, adding a dash of orange from feathers that now looked disheveled at best and in outright disarray at worst. He was walking, but there was visible tiredness to his steps like his hindlegs were threatening to give away under him with each step.

Zen held the door for him and only let it fall shut when he was clear of it. "The job of an attendant at the library is never over," he said in a tone as if reciting from a pamphlet. "And that is why we take turns on the roster. Well, that and you know, it's one of the better parts of the job."

Chirl pulled a large and soft pillow out from under the table and motioned to it. "Have a seat; you need it," he told the new guy while again trying to desperately remember his name. It was just this morning he'd had it repeated, but he wasn't good with names. He was the new and orange guy. The name didn't really matter.

He didn't let Chirl offer the pillow twice; with a tired groan he sat down with hindlegs slightly splayed and his head hanging a bit. "Ugh, forgot to get the food first," he sighed. He started to stand back up but Zen gave him a light pat on the back with a wing as he walked past him.

"I've got it, Beam. Just stay there."

Beam, right, Chirl thought to himself. Zen knew he had problems with names at times, and as with so many things he solved that problem as quietly and unnoticed as possible by casually dropping the name in conversation.

Beam did as instructed though he did lift his forelegs up to fold them on the table. "I'd heard the rumors," he said to the room in general. "That she ... you know ..." He looked suddenly uncertain and glanced furtively around as if he'd been about to spill a secret. Which he had, but only to those who already knew. It was the exact same rumor Breeze had mentioned.

It was Snowdrift that spoke up first. "We all take turns on attendant duty. We've all sat like you do right now. Even me."

Zen returned with a plate of bread and meat for Beam before heading back to the counter for his own.

"Alright," Chirl said. "Everyone always asks the same few questions when they get time to think. Have a few bites and feel free to ask. We've heard all the questions before." He glanced over at Snowdrift. "Asked them ourselves, too. So go ahead and ask, and we will answer what we can. Nothing you say here will reach the lady's ears."

It was only a half truth. While no one would tell Lady Ciri exactly what had been asked she was well aware of the usual questions and had given permission for the answers to be shared with any new hires at the library. It was easier for them to open up to their own kind, not to mention a lot harder to ask the more awkward questions of their new boss.

Beam didn't ask anything right away, though. Instead he took a couple of bites of his lunch and washed it down with grape juice. In the meantime Zen prepared his own lunch and joined them, sitting down on the other side of the table. Kes and Snowdrift didn't resume their earlier conversation, and everyone just waited in silence for Beam to be ready.

"I guess I ... had some assumptions about the whole thing," he finally said. "When I met Lady Ciri for the first time two weeks ago I thought all the rumors were just that; rumors. I mean, she was an elf. How ..." He spread out his wings in agitation and Chirl leaned to the side to avoid getting hit.

Kes gave a little nod over at the other table. "She doesn't show you who she really is until she's sure she'll hire you. Some applicants never find out."

Beam gave a sharp click of his beak. "She's a DRA-" Then he coughed and lowered his voice a bit just in case someone should be walking past the kitchen, however unlikely it was for patrons to find their way into the employee areas. "She's a dragon. None of the rumors mentioned that part!"

"They actually did where I'm from," Zen commented. "But maybe that's because I heard it from my brother who used to work here and he trusted me enough."

"So, I guess I ..." Beam paused, took another bite of his lunch, and then looked around. "... No, first question. Why?"

Everyone turned their heads to look at Snowdrift, with Beam following suit once he noticed. Even Chirl had to reluctantly admit that within the group he was probably the best at explaining the situation, owing in part to being the one who had worked at the library for the longest time.

"That is always the first question," he said. "It's a little broad, so if you'll excuse me I'll start from the beginning. There is an illness of sorts that runs in her family, and she unfortunately has a pretty bad case of it. In short her body is stuck being in heat, and without mating she will get sick. Very sick."

Chirl took a sip from his mug of juice. It was a blunt way of putting it, but the finer details didn't really matter.

"Obviously she could've found herself a mate to handle that particular problem," Snowdrift continued as Beam listened. "But then what? She'd have clutch after clutch of eggs, never doing anything but tending to them and making more."

Beam's eyes widened in realization. "But we don't give her eggs, just ... just the mating to keep the illness down?" Snowdrift nodded and was about to continue his explanation when Beam let out a sudden chirp. "It's not contagious, is it?" There was a scattered chuckle from the other gryphons.

"No, it's not," Snowdrift assured him. "It is not exactly an illness, but it's the easiest way of thinking of it. She may pass it on to what children she one day has as it was passed on to her, but we cannot get it from her. As for the why of 'why gryphons', the answer to that is simple. When ruling out other dragons because she doesn't want to be a nestmother we are probably the largest species she can think of as something close to equals." A smirk crossed the blue-feathered drake's face. "And we're good at what we do."

"Not to mention a lot of species have ethical concerns about mating outside their own kind," Kes added. "I can't tell the difference between a short human and a tall dwarf, but trust me, they can."

Zen tapped his claws on the table to get Beam's attention. "Three times over the course of a morning isn't the standard, either. It's more of an initiation thing, really. Usually it'll be once, maybe twice a day, which is why we're always two on attendant duty."

Beam cast another glance around the kitchen at his new coworkers. "And you've all ..." He still felt a little awkward actually saying it out loud.

"Mounted her more times than we can count?" Kes clarified the question for him.

"Yep," Chirl answered it.

"Wow." Beam looked down at his lunch. "I mean, I knew it'd be part of the job, so I'm not sure why I'm even so surprised." He took his mug and poured more of the grape juice into his beak. "Okay, okay. Erm. I only got hired because someone quit. Why would anyone quit this job?"

Well, I see your hips are recovering, Chirl thought to himself. But it was actually a good question. Chirl didn't really get it himself, though he knew the answer from a factual standpoint.

"Oh, a fate must horrible befell him as it did many others before him," Zen answered in the most dramatic tone he could muster. "In hindsight we could all see it, but you know, when the changes happen just a little from day to day you only really notice when it is much too late to save him."

Now Beam looked nervous, which Chirl was sure was Zen's intent. He loved drama and over-the-top performances, and no one in the room seemed inclined to stop him. It was always interesting to see where his stories would go.

"You see, it started with him just being a little distracted. Forgetting things and the like, but never anything too important. Just going down the wrong aisle or mixing up which books were for which patrons. You know, little things. But everyone can have an off day, right? If we had to get worried every single time one of us gets lost in thought or daydreams we'd have an epidemic of heart attacks!"

Beam did not seem the least bit assured. "So ... what happened to him?" he asked with obvious worry.

"I'm getting to that! See, we should have noticed when -" Zen was interrupted by the door opening, and everyone turned to look as brown-feathered and grey-bodied Frays entered, carrying a large steel bucket with a domed lid in his beak.

"Wha'?" he said, with his voice slightly obscured by the bucket's handle. "Oh, firs' lunsh, I'm innerruppin'! Ne'er min'!" He nudged the door shut and set the bucket down next to it. "How much did I miss?"

Zen waved a wing. "I was just explaining what happened to Mint! Where was I? Oh right, we should have noticed something was off when he started trading away his days on attendant duty. He said he was feeling under the weather, and sure, that happens! But you have to really be sick to not want to mate, y'know?"

Frays went to pick up some lunch while Zen spoke, and Beam shifted uncomfortably on his pillow the more serious the story got. Zen spread out his wings.

"The day we realized something was wrong, though, was when he was late for work. And I don't mean a few seconds, he was half an hour late. HOW?!" He pointed his right wing upwards and his left out towards the library proper. "We live here! Your room is literally a two minute leisurely stroll away from the reception desk! How can you be half an hour late?!"

Chirl gave a dramatic shake of his head to back up Zen's story. "By then it was too late, of course. He was still with us, but he wasn't really with us anymore. He was already gone, he just hadn't left."

Beam swallowed something and looked like he was once again reconsidering his choice of employment. "Did ... did he die?"

With a flap of his wings Zen shook his head. "Worse, so much worse! It turned out he'd fallen prey to that very worst of all addictions, one that changes your life forever and you never manage to really put behind you once it's got its claws in you. And he wasn't even apologetic about it or saw anything wrong with it! No, he had the audacity to say he hoped for all of us we'd fall in love one day, too!"

Beam opened his beak, closed it again, and stared at Zen. No one said anything for several seconds before the orange-feathered drake finally managed to squeeze out a confused, "... what?"

There was some scattered snickering at the other table, but Zen maintained his serious expression. "I know, right? Who knew?! Turned out he was late for work because the hen who stole his heart had snuck into his room at night, and they thought they could just have a real quick romp in the morning. Only he didn't pull out fast enough and they got tied, and you know how it goes if you have to get out of that quickly. Nope, it just takes even longer than usual."

Beam's expression hadn't changed. "... what?" he said again.

Zen nodded eagerly. "You know, when you hump whoever it is you're humping so hard you pop the knot in, and then it swells so -"

Chirl decided that was enough for now. "Zen," he said, with a tone to back it up. "That's not what he meant and you know it." He turned his head to Beam. "No, seriously, all that happened is that he fell in love and went to start a family. That is one of Lady Ciri's few rules about what we can and can't do; she will not have any of us try to divide attention between work obligations and family."

There was a dawning understanding in Beam's eyes. "Oh," was the most intelligible sound he managed to get out of his beak.

"Don't you think the rumors would mention it if those who came here to work had a bad habit of dying?" Chirl asked. "Or would there even be any rumors if that was the case?"

"It's actually the only reason I can remember anyone leaving," Snowdrift added. "It's like a cycle. Young drake ready to tackle the world gets hired, works here for a few years, then meets a cute hen one way or another and flies off into the world with her. Then another young drake gets hired, and the story repeats."

Chirl knew he should resist the temptation, but he couldn't. "And when is it going to be your turn, again?" he asked.

Snowdrift sent an exasperated glare in his direction, but it took him a moment to realize it wasn't actually him the other drake was looking at. He was looking over at Zen, as if Zen could somehow bring Chirl to order, yet he in turn just looked down at what was left of his lunch.

"I like it here," the blue-feathered drake then defended himself.

"So did Mint, and everyone before him," Chirl pointed out, but before the argument could escalate Frays stood up from his pillow.

"Aaaaalright, that's enough of that. Anyone up for a game of Mouser?"

It was a distraction, of course. An obvious one, and far from the first time Frays - or before he'd quit, Mint - had gotten between the two drakes before heated words would turn into a fight with beaks and claws. Snowdrift probably appreciated the gesture, but in this particular case Chirl did not, and the ire that had already been building in him now got directed at Frays instead.

"Mouser? Is that what you have in that bucket?" he snapped, looking over towards the door where the steel bucket with the domed lid was still standing. "Have you forgotten it took two months to get rid of the mice infestation last time?"

"I haven't, I haven't!" Frays assured him, stepping casually over to be between him and Snowdrift. "That's what the lid is for! They can't get out of that one."

Chirl clacked his beak. "That's only half the point. Have you heard how people are talking about us around town? They see us as beasts. Well-trained and talking beasts, but beasts." His wing spread out to the side to point towards the bucket. "A game like that is not helping our case!"

Kes gave a dismissive wave of his turquoise wing as he went to get the bucket. "And that's why we're not playing it in town," he commented. "What we do here will be known by just as many as know what we do in Lady Ciri's office."

"Fine. Fine." Chirl shook his head and turned back to the table only to find his plate empty save for a few crumbs. "Do what you want but count me out."

On the other side of the table Zen cleared his throat. "We err ..." He looked just a little embarrassed when Chirl glanced his way. "We kinda need to push the tables aside for it."

Beam had been staying quiet since things started getting tense, but now he saw a good way to get out of harm's way. "I'll get the plates," he offered, reaching over to remove Chirl's empty plate and then hurrying around the table to grab Zen's as well.

There was really no mistaking the fact that he was outnumbered. While Beam didn't seem to recognize the game by name he probably would once they started playing, and the rest of the group were big fans of it. In that regard Chirl was the odd one out. It wasn't even because he was bad at it - in fact he thought himself pretty decent - he just felt it didn't befit a species trying to fit into civilized society.

Despite his own personal feelings about it he'd been unable to convince anyone else to stop playing it. When the bucket full of mice had accidentally toppled a few months prior and there'd been mice everywhere he thought he'd gotten a new and solid argument against it, but apparently not. Now he sighed, shook his head, and got up to help Zen push their table up against the wall while Snowdrift and Kes pushed their table up to the kitchen counter, leaving a large open space in the middle of the room after all the sitting pillows had been haphazardly thrown aside as well.

All but Chirl's own pillow, anyway. That one he brought over to the wall as well so he could sit by the table and watch. Maybe his disapproving looks would work better than his words had, though he held little actual hope of that.

"So how do you play?" Beam asked while Frays was getting the bucket of mice.

Kes cocked his head. "You really don't know? Or maybe you just know it under another name. Right, first things first." He pointed to a spot on the floor near the kitchen counter. "One tosser; that's Snowdrift. In more ways than one." He quickly ducked a blue-feathered wing that came straight at his face. "He always starts as the tosser because he's too good at the game. Then there's a catcher, somewhere over there."

Beam turned his head to look at where Kes was pointing; it was a spot a little more than halfway through the room.

"We draw feathers for that," Kes continued. "And last but not least, everyone else plays a rival."

That was the moment Beam recognized the game. He raised his head with a sudden, "Ohhhh!" then quickly lowered it again. "I think that's the one we call One For The Road where I'm from." He looked to the bucket Frays was holding in his beak again. "So that's the mice, and the tosser - we call him the pitcher - takes one, throws it for the catcher who has to ..." He motioned with a wing, a quick flap up and down. "Well, catch it, and if he doesn't the rivals have to, and whoever gets it becomes the new catcher?"

Kes nodded eagerly. As did Frays for a second, but with the way the steel bucket started bouncing up and down he quickly stopped. "Essentially yes. And whoever gets the most mice wins, of course."

Chirl let out a sigh. "Couldn't you at least use mice that're already dead?" he suggested, and not for the first time. Frays waved him off with a wing.

"'ll make i' way too eathy for the rahvals." Again the bucket's handle made him nearly impossible to understand when he tried to speak.

"Actually, I have an idea," Zen added. "Instead of drawing feathers I think we should let Beam start since it's his first day. Anyone opposed?" The only one with anything to argue was Chirl but he kept his beak shut. It was a lost cause. "Very well then. You're up, Beam!"

There was still a bit of uncertain awkwardness to be detected in how the orange-feathered and sand-furred drake stepped over to the spot that had been indicated, but at least his exhaustion from the first few hours of work as an attendant seemed to have been forgotten. Frays set the bucket down next to Snowdrift and opened the lid. Rather than being a lid that had to be taken off, it opened a small hatch at the top of the dome so the contents were more likely to stay secure.

Snowdrift reached down into the bucket and pulled his taloned paw back up holding a single mouse by the tail. The other three drakes took up positions around the open area while Beam lowered his shoulders slightly, eyes fixing on the mouse. "Ready?" Snowdrift asked, and Beam gave a single nod without allowing his eyes to move. "Then catch!" He swung his paw upwards and let go of the mouse, sending it tumbling through the air. Beam crouched a little more, raised his head, and then jumped up to grab it out of the air. There was a single crunch as his beak put an end to the mouse even before he had all four paws back on the floor, and a moment later he gulped it down.

"One point for Beam," Frays chuckled. "You've played this before even if the name's different."

Beam gave a little nod as he backed up towards his spot. "We played it a lot, actually. Not always with mice, though. Sometimes rats or the like."

"You know what it was originally for, right?" Snowdrift asked as he pulled out another mouse. He held it up in the air by its tail, waved it slowly back and forth, and then threw it towards Beam. The question had been enough to distract him, and his beak only barely nicked the mouse's tail. It fell on the floor in front of him and the other three gryphons immediately pounced. It was Zen who victoriously raised his head up so the others could see he'd caught it - and then that mouse's life was forfeit as well, vanishing within Zen's beak. Chirl shook his head.

Disappointment flashed in Beam's eyes, but he took it in stride and crossed the floor to where Snowdrift had been standing. "Well, yeah, kinda," he finally answered the question. "To impress hens, right? By showing off that you can hunt, that you're fast, have good reflexes and so on?"

"Aha, exactly!" Kes said with a chirp. "They love nothing more than to see drakes compete against each other and show off how strong we are."

Chirl was, perhaps not surprisingly, instantly reminded of the hen he'd helped in the library earlier that same day. "Or," he said. "Get this. You could show off just by doing your job and being helpful. Like I did just today, all without having to demonstrate my skill at catching mice like some alleycat."

Frays raised a wing slightly to call for a short break in the game while he looked over at Chirl. "Oh, you met her too? She seemed quite nice when I checked her out." He paused when he realized what he'd just said, and with a flick of his tail he added, "When I checked out her books, I mean. It was the first time she was here so had to get her registered and all that paperwork. Her name was, umm ..." He glanced over at Snowdrift, then Kes, but they both shook their heads. They hadn't even met her.

"Breeze," Chirl answered the question left hanging in the air.

"Well if that ain't a breath of fresh air," Zen commented.

Chirl puffed out his feathers. Wasn't that what he'd said? "All it took to impress her," he said. "Was to help her find a few books about rain magic when -"

He stopped. The memory was almost like an out of body experience. It wasn't the moment he first saw her; it was a few seconds prior to that when she'd been helping to push him up to the shelf he was returning a book to. And he wasn't seeing it from his own eyes this time; he saw it how it had to have looked to her. Paws on his thigh, a push upwards ...

"Oh no," he said quietly as his eyes widened. "Oh no no no no."

Beam had taken a mouse from the bucket and sat back on his haunches to move it between his paws, but now he looked over at Chirl with worry. "You okay?"

"What's wrong?" Zen asked, being much closer.

Chirl stared straight ahead in horror. "I think ... I accidentally flashed her my balls." The work harness was a matter of functionality, not modesty. It didn't even reach that far back on the body, let alone try to cover anything. Modesty was usually preserved by just keeping your tail low, and the furred body made most kinds of clothes quite unpleasant anyway. But she'd gotten a good look right between his hindlegs as she pushed him. She had to have.

"Maybe she didn't notice?" Zen suggested while the others made decent efforts to hold back snickers. He was trying to be helpful, but the words she'd said when she introduced herself echoed in Chirl's head.

"Well rounded," he said slowly. "She called my name well rounded, if a little heavy. Oh dear gods, she wasn't talking about my name." The last couple of words came out as a barely audible chirp.

He let his head drop on the table and put both forepaws over his eyes as if he could hide from the embarrassment that way, but even if he prevented himself from looking he could still hear quite clearly how the other five drakes in the room erupted in roaring, raucous laughter.