Tales from Grimwold: Gilivan the Gryphon

Macadam Snore lived on top of a hill overlooking the village of Grimwold. Although his ramshackle home was always cold and leaked every time it rained he loved it because he lived nearer the stars than anyone else in the village. Every night Macadam leaned out of his window, with his chin resting in his hands, and peered up at the stars watching as, one by one, they flickered into life.
"If only I could just pluck one of those jewels ," he said wistfully one night as he reached out a hand toward the velvet blue sky, "I could give it to the village, and none of us would ever be poor again."
As soon as he uttered those words, like an answer to his heavenly prayer, a large winged creature flew past him.
"Wow!" Macadam gasped. "What was that?"
It was a creature Macadam had never seen before. It was the colour of gold with an eagle's head and wings and a lion's body and tail. Macadam craned his head out of the window to track the creature's flight. He watched as it swooped over the village of Grimwold and weaved through the streets, using the houses like they were part of a game of dodge, before it rose up into the sky and flew toward the hill-Macadam's hill.
Macadam fearlessly climbed out of his bedroom and sat on the sill of his window to watch it. As the creature neared it fluttered it wings forward and began to slow down. Macadam shuddered with apprehension as it landed on a mound of crisp, parched moss in front of him.
"What are you?" Macadam asked.
"You?" the creature asked tilting his head at Macadam, scrutinising him.
"I'm a boy. My name's Macadam.
The creature smoothed its wings down and stepped closer toward Macadam. Macadam held firm, unwilling to show alarm and watched as the gryphon's thick talons scored the dry earth.
"Gilivan," the creature said playfully and bounced round in a circle, proudly displaying itself. "I Gryphon."
"I've never heard of gryphons. Where do you come from?" Macadam asked.
Gilivan paused, appearing to ponder the question. "Home. Alce. White mountains," he said, raising a feathered wing to point to the north.
"So why are you here, so late at night?"
"Fly. Fly," said Gilivan as he opened his wings, pretending to soar.
Macadam's eyes lit up. "I want to fly too. I want to fly high into the night and take the stars," he said pointing to the sky.
Gilivan raised his head and looked up. "Twinkly," he said before looking back at Macadam, his bright black eyes glistening with excitement. "Fly. Yes?"
Macadam clapped his hands. "Yes, yes, lets," he said. He bounced down from his window onto a withered flower bed and skipped toward Gilivan.
Gilivan crouched and Macadam grasped a handful of the gryphon's curly blonde coat. With a heave Macadam pulled himself up and swung a leg over onto Gilivan's back.
Gilivan spread his majestic wings and began to beat the air. With every flap Macadam rose higher and higher into the night until his house below him was nothing but a square dot on the landscape. The air was cold but Macadam was so excited he couldn't feel it . All he could feel was the rush of the wind as it whistled past him, ruffling his shaggy brown hair. He clasped onto Gilivan's neck as the gryphon carried him over Grimwold.
"Wow. The village looks so small from up here," Macadam said. "Everywhere is so dry and brown. Nothing grows. It's no wonder we are always hungry, scraping the ground for scraps of seedlings."
"Barren. Yes," said Gilivan as he powered his wings and carried Macadam further north.
Macadam looked back as his village grew ever smaller until soon he couldn't make out the little houses at all. All he could see was parched, undulating hills.
"Look, green," said Gilivan.
Macadam squinted over Gilivan's head. Beyond lay a sight that caught Macadam's breath. For a second he could neither breathe nor speak. Lush green trees and grass peppered with pools of crystal clear blue water coated the ground like a magical carpet.
"Wow! It's so close to Grimwold," Macadam blurted.
"Never seen?" asked Gilivan.
"Nobody has ventured beyond the village. Nobody has the energy or food stores to make such an expedition. But if they knew. If the villagers knew this place existed, we could all move. We could grow food and sell it and buy cows and horses and till the land and make more money. Oh, Gilivan do you know what this means?"
"Mean, what?"
"It means I don't need the sky jewels," Macadam cried as he glanced up at the twinkling stars. "I don't need to steal from the night god. He can keep his treasure and I can admire it still, each and every night."
Macadam patted Gilivan's neck and gave him a hug. "Take me home, Gilivan. Take me home."
With that Gilivan did as instructed and swooped round in a large circle.
" I have a grand message to give my father, " Macadam said.