Dusk had passed. Now, as the sun is setting, the sky is becoming a pleasant purple colour and the first few stars start to become visible, in a way which seems as though they are peeking around a corner, appearing slowly at first then slowly becoming brighter, a beacon of hope and happiness. The sea gulls are starting to fly towards the last rays of the sun, off into the ocean. The waves are progressively creeping up onto the shore now. The warmth from the air is starting to be replaced by a chill. As time passes, the sky progressively becomes a black, seeming to look like a void. The sea gulls are all but gone and now their cries are barely just a whisper. The wind is picking up strength and the deathly chill it brings seems to replace Cobalt's spine with a large chunk of ice, freezing his entire body, his simple shirt and pants have given up in the fight having been outmatched by the ferocity of the wind. He wondered how his human protector had found such large clothes able to fit his gargoyle features. Cobalt shook his head from left to right, sending his black strands away from his sharp blue eyes. The waves are much larger now and they are now desperately reaching for waist. Perched on his rock, he has slowly spread his large white wings, the icy breeze softly stroking his face. How good it was, to feel the drafts come and go against his wings. Cobalt smiles, his upper fangs pointing out. His white skin coincided very well with the foam of the sea. Embracing a cold breeze coming toward him, the pale gargoyle let himself glide in the air, sliding against the air like a surfer on the waves. Now, the breeze carried him away from the shore, toward the city. He was careful not to glide too low, and hide himself from any human sight. It was a pain, due to his white skin, to hide in the darkening sky. Cobalt ceased focusing on his thoughts as the still shadows of the buildings began to envelop his figure. from a far range. The amazing technology used to raise buildings that seemed to touch the sky has developed and improved, and now incredible skyscrapers of all shapes and configurations are one of America's visit cards.
Cobalt loved Boston. He had lived there his whole life, and he loved exploring this forest of iron and steel, of lights and darkness, of action and silence. The familiar sound of the cars in the streets confounded with the harsh wind, now turning into a soft winter draft. He silently blessed himself for being the noble creature he was. The wet, desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright, yellow street lamps. The small, green trees on the roadside swayed as the strong breeze hit them. Above a faded zebra crossing, a traffic light frantically changed colors seeming rather like a disco light. A watchman snored comfortably on his dark brown stool under the protection of his shops's roof. Huge giant buildings stood besides the street, quiet as if taken over by an army of libraries. Some windows gave out white and yellow lights, but the others were pitch black. It seemed like the clouds had gotten a sudden fascination to the moon and wrapped themselves around it. The moon's faint glow passed through them, coloring them white from grey. The cool monsoon air carried a sweet moist scent like a candy shop kept inside a refrigerator. The streets of the city now rested again in lifeless silence except the gentle pattering of the raindrops. It lay there just like it had for many a changing years ready to rise when the sun's auburn rays would start to cast grey shadows over it. Then, Cobalt knew he would be turned to stone again, and that he would never feel the warm embrace of the sun around him, the hot atmosphere around him. The white gargoyle noticed the public library. His home. There wasn't any risk of encountering any humans, since the library shuts at 6pm, and opens at 7am. Well, there was at least one human he'd always encounter and spend time with. The draft carried the young creature to the roof of the building. The paved stones of the roof reminded the base of a medieval castle. Cobalt stretched his wings back and forth, balancing his weight in the wind, slowly moving down to the balcony. Back legs first, he smoothly perched himself in silence on the edge of the fence, silent like a bird of prey. Only familiar heavy steps made him raise his pointy ears in attention. Curling his tail and turning his head, Cobalt listened closely, before letting out a sigh.
"Ah, it is you, he let out. Good evening Spike.
-Back already ? his elder brother asked. The night has barely begun, we've got plenty of time to patrol around the streets.
-I apologize, the white gargoyle answered, getting of the fence to stand next to Spike. I was watching the sea. I find it...fascinating. I wondered what could be beyond.
-More countries, more human territories.
-More gargoyles ?"
Spike didn't answer. Instead, he just turned away, crossing his arms. His dark brown long wavy hair were tied in a pony tail, and his light copper colored skin matched with the oak wooden door or the balcony. He was taller than Cobalt, but was definitely softer. The elder brother closed his bright yellow eyes and silently growled in frustration before gently answering.
-No, Cobalt, he firmly said. We're alone. Long ago, our race was destroyed. We've read books about it. Thousands of book. When will you understand ?
-Don't lecture me as if I just hatched from my egg brother, Cobalt snarled. Is it that bad to believe that we're not alone ? I want to know more about our race, I want to know more about myself.
-Cobalt. We live in a library. You've got all the books on earth to answer your question."
Spike had suddenly turned to face his younger brother. His wings lightly wrapped around his own shoulders, forming a cap around his grey shirt. Cobalt's blue eyes turned into two bright lights, as he frowned in anger, his pale tale whipping the air. He coldly responded to the brown gargoyle.
-Books are not enough ! This is not enough !
-Brother, calm down, Spike said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, slightly tightening the grip as he continued. You know what anger can drive us to do if not controlled."
Cobalt sighed deeply, letting a sad expression invading his white face. He looked up to his sibling, like an upset feline looks up to his owner for a treat.
"I...he trembled, uncertain of what to say. I'm sorry. I don't want to go back to that subject. There is very slim chances to find any gargoyle out there. I know that."
He hesitated, his pupils reflecting the shining armor of the moon in the icy sky. Then, he finished his statement.
"You are right. We shouldn't go on unprepared adventures to seek for something out of reach. This hope has to stay in our minds and our consciousness. I know that. You want to protect me, to protect Megan, who shares my opinion. You are a good brother. Perhaps the best. We're a family and that means that we are each other's half."
They both smiled, as Spike couldn't find a more appropriate answer. The young white gargoyle had totally read his mind. Cobalt nodded as if he understood his elder brother's very spirit, before walking past him, opening the wooden door, entering the library's second floor, the brown gargoyle following him after a few seconds of immobility. Over the entrance doors, at the end of the hallway, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armor rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn't have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the vizor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. On the east side of the hall, a free staircase, tile-paved, rose to a gallery with a wrought-iron railing and another piece of stained-glass romance. Large hard chairs with rounded red plush seats were backed into the vacant spaces of the wall round about. They didn't look as if anybody had ever sat in them. In the middle of the west wall there was a big empty fireplace with a brass screen in four hinged panels, and over the fireplace a marble mantel with cupids at the corners. Above the mantel there was a large oil portrait, and above the portrait two bullet-torn or moth-eaten cavalry pennants crossed in a glass frame. The portrait was a stiffly posed job of an officer in full regimentals of about the time of the Mexican war. The officer had a neat black imperial, hot hard coal-black eyes, and the general look of a man it would pay to get along with. Not to mention that thousands of shelves were running along the walls, filled with books of all colors and all sizes. All this amount of knowledge impressed the two gargoyles, walking past this literary paradise. Entering a small staircase running down the side of the entrance, they followed the dim lights of the archives, searching for their human friend. Their only friend. Cobalt sniffed the air, recognizing the sent of dust running on the old scrolls like stars in a summer sky. As he opened the door at the end of an endless hallway, he notice the slim figure of the woman he and Spike owe their protection. Megan Fawkes was a thin woman, always who's white formal shirt and her short brown leather boots contrasting with typical grey pants always seemed a bit too big for her. Her short black air allowed a few strands to fall onto her forehead, forming a small curtain onto of her green eyes. She pinched her pink lips and frowned for she was focusing on the large screen of her computer. As her fingers ran across the keyboard, Spike entered the room, gently tapping her shoulder with his claws. Megan turned, changing her expression with a pleased smile.
"Good evening you two, she joyfully said. Had a nice sleep ?
-Not bothered with a single dream, Cobalt's voice echoed behind his brother's horns.
-Me neither, the brown gargoyle replied. How long have you been working ? And on what ?
-I've searched around the breaking news, the young woman answered. And it seems like the world is peaceful tonight. If you both want to explore go for it. You don't need to be scared of any junky in a hoodie threatening you with a gun, or a lonely lady calling the cops on "winged monsters".
-We shall patrol around Boston. See if we can discover anything more, Spike said, his tail waving in excitement. Are you coming Cobalt ?"
The white one responded with a determined nod of the head.
"Very well then, Megan cut with a movement of the hand. I'll see you in a few minutes, I've got to make some research. Boston may be tranquil at the minute, but it seems like Manhattan is agitating. Probably just the local mafia.
-I feel sad for them, Cobalt sighed. They've only got human policemen to protect them from those creepy and disrespectful individuals.
-Let's make sure the same thing doesn't happen in Boston then brother, Spike insisted."
As the two gargoyles headed out the archive room, Megan brushed her head with a hand, feeling the need to take a break from the technology she's been on. However, she was too absorbed by her new discovery that she totally despised the idea of getting of her crimson red bureau chair. She kept her hand on the mouse, reading the various articles she could find online, her eyes moving as fast as the cursor on the files. From links to to links, from pictures to pictures, documentaries, interviews, Megan had kept her eyes opened so wide that her vision almost started to blur. She wanted to find gargoyles. She needed to. Suddenly, she had an idea. Instead of searching around the antic places, the medieval golden age of those mighty creatures who turn to stone at dawn, she started to search in popular newspapers. The idea of it almost made her laugh, as she silently called herself stupid and delusional. Why would the press write about mythological creatures ? It would be silly, wouldn't it ? Megan yawned as she was plunged in her thoughts. Over the last centuries there's been a city known for taking in and giving hope to immigrants from all over the world, a city that shouts out a million testimonies: stories of success, stories of disillusion, but mostly stories of hard work; a city that is home to the arts and the finest museums, a city as bright as its billboards, a city that stands out from all others, a city that never sleeps. It could as well contain stories of monsters. New York. As she typed with fragrance on the keyboard, she explored the files she found. A satisfied grin on her face, the young woman violently stood up, and ran through the aisles of scrolls and damaged books and articles from the 1930's. In no other city does life seem such a perpetual balancing of debits and credits, of evils and virtues, as it does in New York. No other city seems so charming yet so crude, so civilized yet so uncouth. Pulling out a pile of documents trapping articles and pictures, Megan vigorously searched around the dusty papers, grabbing a photo in particular. Satisfied with her choice, she swiftly ran over to her computer, has she prepared to search for more information. The thrill of the hunt for knowledge, and the consuming pleasure of finding information were the two reasons why Megan Fawkes loved her job as an archive owner, even if she loved having two unusual friends more.
***
As Spike was leading himself between the buildings, wings coinciding with the drafts, he felt his younger brother floating above him. The two led the breeze carry them wherever it would. Two hours after gazing through the empty however lit streets, the brown gargoyle looked down, to see the traffic lights running below him. They soon reached a park nearby a local market. Slowly gliding down, the two gargoyles described circles around the park's still silence. Trees rustled loudly against the cool evening breeze giving off an eerie feel, debris covered the pathed floor of the path they followed. Tonight gave them nerves from the ghosts of shadows that moved in timing to the breeze. The only lightening of the park were the depressed street lamps scattered around the park that barely lit up ground surrounding. The oldest of the two decided to speak.
"I'm sorry for what happened later, he gently apologized. I share your opinion, but I think there is no chance of finding any gargoyle ou there Cobalt.
-It is already forgotten brother, Cobalt replied a smile across his white face, showing his pointy fangs. We are linked by blood and affection. We share this affection with our beloved sister Megan. I'm sorry too for acting like a brat.
-Oh, sarcastically the other responded, wiggling his ears. Are you a poet now hm ? Am I in presence of the great Jim Morrison ? Or perhaps Mark Twain ?"
Both bursted out in laughter, happy to see that the anger was past them. Spike smiled widely, taking a look at his brother with pride, before observing the natural habitat that surrounded them. The park, during the day, was filled with innocent children frolicking amongst the many teeter totters and mechanics, but at night, it was a different story. It was an eerie ghost town. The darkness devoured what was once a playful sanctuary. While the older gargoyle enjoyed the loneliness the night offered, Cobalt wished he had not turned to stone once in his life, to enjoy the soft envelop of the sun. The slide looked like the tongue of a monster, slimy and long. the swings slowly dazed and swished back and forth. Everywhere he looked, a monster awaited. Spike was glad he had his brother beside him. With no other gargoyle in the world, his family was the last of their kind. As nostalgia slowly flew over him, the younger male approached, undulating his tail.
"Hey, Cobalt said, interrupting his brother's sad thoughts. When the night began, I watched the sea. It was so beautiful I had no breath to express my joy. I want you to come with me see it once again. It might get you out of your sadness.
-Um, I- Spike stammered.
-I know you like the back of my claws Spike, his brother interrupted once more. You are my rookery sibling. I want you to come with me. Come on you'll like it !" The white gargoyle embracing the first draft of wind to push him into the air as he finished his sentence in a louder voice. "Are you a coward now ?"
-Me ? Spike answered, in fake astonishment. I'd race you there kiddo.
-We're a few months apart ! Cobalt laughed, dodging his brother's swift appearance in the sky."
Soon enough, it was too joyful winged silhouettes gliding through the clouds, toward the shore. Only the harsh sound of the upcoming waves deranged the laughs and the sound of the wings folding from time to time. Two dark figures distinguishing themselves in the night, toward the sea. It was just as Cobalt left it, but the darker shades of black and blue changed the atmosphere. The calm ocean reflects this most amazing colour in the way which only it can. The waves gently lull on the sandy shore, slowly breaking then receding, always gracefully touching the golden sand. This same breeze caresses Spike's skin, keeping it pleasantly fresh in spite of the slowing cold season, making him feel like it is hugging him warmly. The smell which these waves conjure is not fishy and disgusting as it sometimes is but rather soft and a little salty which just so luscious. The sea gulls circle in the air, occasionally landing near the spot the two brothers stopped by. As they landed, Spike took the time to observe the scene. One sea gull dives from the air only to lift itself up again as it nears the water, making a small V in the water behind it. The brown gargoyle found himself thinking that perhaps this is the most beautiful place in the entire cosmos. The wind blows harder, edging the furious waves on, making them even larger. Spike stumbled back in sheer horror. The waves seem to be yelling at him, telling him that resistance is futile. He freezes on the spot as an amazingly large wave charges towards his brother and him. Jumping out of reach and perching above the shore, Spike spoke loud enough for his younger sibling to hear, through the noisy ocean.
"You were right, he said, amazed by the light of the moon light shining the still horizon. This is definitely an amazing place. I understand now why you were so curious of what was beyond this."
Cobalt exhaled silently, lifting his head up to the sky, as if he was addressing to the moon. Without hesitation, he replied.
"The ocean may be unfriendly and stormy one minute; it's waves crashing against each other in an epic, long running battle. Or, the ocean may be tranquil and welcoming, with it's embracing droplets just the right temperature to relax in or just to look at. Just like our family, brother.
-Jesus, you really are a poet Cobalt, Spike answered, shocked by his rookery brother's sudden monologue.
-I read that in a book, the white one said. By Shakespeare. Megan gave it to me when she had to work on poetry.
-She may not look like a gargoyle, but she acts like one, Spike happily murmured. We are damn lucky.
-You bet we are, Cobalt sighed, wrapping his wing around his own shoulders, protecting himself from the cold wind."
Spike knew what was troubling the smaller gargoyle. He wanted to explore the unknown. He wanted to find other gargoyles, despite the impossible chances of finding any. Before doing anything, they silently watched the horizon. Waves crash against the cold hard light house.Water rises with speed sinking into the never ending darkness of battle. The night was murky, but the light house still stood out in the darkness. Spike started to understand and share Cobalt curiosity. Gently wrapping an arm around his younger brother's shoulder, the larger male attempted to cheer the white gargoyle up.
"Cobalt, I know how angry you feel. Despite the fact that you have me and Megan, you want to see more of our kind. I know it is hard to accept that we might be the last ones.
-I don't feel anger, the other one sadly replied. I feel pain. I feel grief. I feel incredibly alone, even if I've got you, and our sister. All of this...sometimes it makes me angry.
-But grief makes a monster out of us sometimes, Spike said, petting his brother's back. And sometimes you say and do things to the people you love that you can't forgive yourself for. Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes more away from you."
Silence flew between the two brothers. Spike knew he was right, and he was willing to do anything to make his siblings happy. He took a sharp breath before standing up, the moon lighting his whole figure, the wind undoing his wavy hair, confounding with the waves. Cobalt imitated him, contemplating the still darkening sky.
"What are we going to do now ?
-We're going home, Spike said. The sun will rise in a few hours, We better come back to the library and see what we can do there to help Megan.
-No no, I meant, what's the plan, now that we both know we have to search for our kind, Cobalt replied, his fists clenched.
-I don't know, his brother answered. But there is one thing for sure. I may still think there are small chances of finding other gargoyles, but we will search. We will search because not only don't we have anything else to do, but this idea has been running around your head for a very long time Cobalt." Spike approached the white creature and place two hands on his shoulders, a determined gaze in his bright golden pupils. He continued. "You are my brother. Megan is our sister. We are a family. I will not rest until we find another clan.
-...Really ? Cobalt murmured, baffled. But..you said there it wasn't worth it ? It was too dangerous to travel.
-I know, Spike replied. But if there is a small chance, we'll take it."
The two brothers smiled at each other, before backing up from the rock. Cobalt nodded, and took a running start, before throwing himself in the air, spreading his wings. When the first draft of wind started to lift him up in the air, Spike followed, stretching his arms in front of him. As they took flights heading towards the library, they flew high enough to distinguish the lights that kept the city alive. They soon flew across the night market. The field at the night market is crowded by people from all walks of life. Cars spill over everywhere from the parking area to the roadsides. In such condition, only the early birds will get parking spaces. Motorcycles and bicycles going in and out. The crowds of people are walking about and the loaded carts on the middle of the path make it even more difficult to move. It is closed to traffic jam during peak hours in town. It seems like the whole community is there. Spike did not fear the witnesses, since the shadows of the surrounding buildings were enough to hide their demon like shaped bodies. Furthermore, it is also a noisy place. All around, customers and hawkers are bargaining. The din is earshattering. Nevertheless, everyone is in good mood. The shouting and bargaining are enjoyed by both customers and hawkers. "Apples! Four for $1! Cheap sale!" come the cries of one hawker. Then another hawker suddenly cries, "Apples! Five for $1! Come on! Cheap sale! Cheap sale!" Obviously, there are already a number of people examining the fruits. There are people laughing and children crying. Spike was glad the area they lived in was less lively. There were too many occasions of them being noticed in the sky, gliding between metal structures. Although the night market is very crowded and noisy, but the hawkers and customers will come back again and again because the night market is where things are cheaper as there are no middlemen to make a profit for themselves. Luckily, before anyone could notice them, the draft could carry the two gargoyles high enough in the air. Finally, they could notice the projectors on the roof of the public library, and Spike, leading the two of them, started to glide down, folding his wings, gaining speed. The faster at home, the better. The sky is a dark and cloudless ocean of midnight blues and twinkling whites and yellows. There are a thousand stars. As soon as Cobalt landed after his brother, the clouds had begun dissipating.
They entered the second floor, and the brown gargoyle dropped down on a leather colored couch, at the corner of the room. He yawned widely, his large white fangs showing. His brother closed the door, and headed toward one of the shelves.
"I think I'll finish that book, he said, grabbing a one of John Steinbeck's writings, Of Mice and Men. I've got a lot of culture to catch up.
-You've got all the time you need, Spike mumbled, wrapping his arms around his head as he was getting himself comfortable. We live twice as long as humans.
-True enough."
As he sat down on the floor, his white tail wrapped around his legs, Cobalt wondered how it was like to live in a clan of gargoyles. Did they have a chief ? How did they live ? How did they organize themselves ? What clothes did they wear ? For as long as he remembers, Cobalt and his brother always wore very large human clothes, in order to fit they monster like features. Two holes were pierced on each of their shirt's back, for their wings to fit. Brushing a black strand out of his eyes, Cobalt opened the book, ready to get into a passionating story. However, before he could dive into the depth of literature, the doors at the end of the hallway quickly opened, and harshly closed. They were followed by agitated and determined footsteps, and the swift ruffle of papers rubbing against each other. Megan appeared from the hallway, previously hidden behind the shelves. She had an amazed look stuck on her face, as if she was watching incredible fire works. Spike jumped out of his seat, asking in incomprehension.
"Everything alright Megan ? You look like you've been offered a pony for your birthday."
The young woman's knees trembled, and she took a moment to catch up her breath. She nodded and stood up straight before dropping a pile of papers on the small coffee table beside the couch. She continued, as Cobalt approached, the book under his armpit.
"I've made some research, Megan had begun, hardly trying to contain her happiness. And I've got the certitude that there is gargoyles in Manhattan !"
Cobalt's lower jaw dropped instantly. His blue eyes widened, and the book he held under his armpit fell on the floor, in a small sound. He caught himself considering pinching himself, to check wether what he just heard was part of a dream, or the complete reality. Spike, who was as baffled as his brother, continued, tilting his head on the side.
"Are...Are you sure ? he stuttered, an unsure expression forming on his face. Are you certain it doesn't come from sort of fake news ? Or a derived translation of an article ?
"Absolutely not !" Megan retorted, her smile not faded for once. "Look, I've been searching around and around, and surprisingly, it was more than easy to find interesting things. They're not completed, but you can easily guess."
The young woman organized the pictures and articles on the coffee table, inviting her brothers to get closer by a gesture of the hand. As they gathered around her, she explained calmly, with an ounce of determination in her voice.
"Take a look" the young woman said, pointing at the pictures in order. "Manhattan is a main attraction when people come to visit New York City. There are many new explorations and journeys that can be taken on this wonderful island. Even though it's a borough it is also an island in and of itself. Here you will find out just what there is to do here." Megan quickly grabbed another photograph, and placed it on top of the others, showing it to the two stunned gargoyles. Cobalt asked, frowning in incomprehension.
"How is it supposed to show there is gargoyles there ? he asked. Living gargoyles.
"Unfortunately, not much information," Megan admitted. "Nevertheless, this man is part of my suspicions."
Megan had uncovered the picture, now showing a portrait of a mid aged man. He was dark of face, had a bony nose, and his straight hair were pulled back in a pony tail, falling down behind his tuxedo. Judging from his skin color, he had to be related to Native American origins at some point. A cold gaze translating a stoned heart filled his coal colored eyes. He seemed alive, even though the picture was old and damaged. Cobalt bent over to examine the picture. He wiggled his ears as his friend kept on going with the explanation.
"His name is David Xanatos" the archive owner explained. "He was born in Bar Harbor, Maine, in 1955, the only son and child of Petros Xanatos , a local fisherman. In 1975, he received a rare 10th century coin from a mysterious stranger, which he sold to a collector for 20,000 dollars. He then used that money to found Xanatos Enterprises, increasing his wealth until now he has become one of the richest men in the world.
"Wow" Spike confessed. "You've done so much research you seem to know him better than you know anything in the world."
"It'd be a good experience to find other gargoyles wouldn't it ?" Megan asked, smiling to the brown gargoyle, who shared her enthusiasm with a nod.
"Besides," she continued "at some point between 1975 and 1994, he bought the Castle Wyvern, and brought it all over from Scotland, and placed it on top of his private building."
"Castle Wyvern ?" Cobalt asked, confused. "What is it ? I mean, I know what a wyvern is. But what is that castle ?"
"I've found some information in the archives" Megan said, satisfied of her hard work. She pulled an old papyrus scroll from the coffee table, and unfolded it. As soon as she did, a lil clou doc dust formed a mist around the ribbon that was tied on the piece of paper. She quickly ran over the scroll with her eyes, talking in a confident voice as she quoted the scroll. "Castle Wyvern was constructed on a cliff above the caverns where a clan of dwelled. The clan agreed to defend Castle Wyvern and its inhabitants from attack by night in exchange for protection by the humans of Wyvern by day. From at least AD 971 to AD 984, the castle was ruled by the human , who was advised by the wizard known as the until he attempted to take over, whereupon Malcolm banished him. After Malcolm's unrelated death some time later, the castle was ruled by Malcolm's daughter, , who was advised by the Archmage's former apprentice, the , and Wyvern's . Unlike her father, Katherine had nothing but contempt and disdain for the clan of gargoyles protecting the castle, which eventually led to the gargoyle who would be known as 's and the Captain of the Guard's betraying Castle Wyvern to a group of led by . The castle's inhabitants were all captured and taken away by the Vikings, and all the gargoyles were slaughtered and massacred like animals."
"How horrible.." Cobalt whispered, chills running down his spine as he listened to the story.
"Wait, it says more," Megan replied, her eyes still staring at the scroll in deep reflexion and attention. "Castle Wyvern is recognizable as a medieval castle, even after its renovation. The layout and form of the castle was not altered in any way during the move, though certain locations have changed their function. The Great Hall, probably the largest space in the Castle was, in the Middle Ages, a typical castle hall. It was used for feasting and official functions. One tower of the Castle was long occupied by the Archmage. Later, the Magus took over the space in the tower. The castle contains several large courtyard areas. There was enough space on the roof and the towers for the gargoyles from then to perch and turn to stone during the day."
"Alright, that's good but what about that Xanatos ?" Spike interrupted. "He moved the castle to his building. Then what ? It is from medieval age. There is no way gargoyles could have survived that long. We don't live that long Megan."
"I'm coming to that" the young woman said, hiding her face in her elbow to cough for a second, before going back to read the article beside the man's photograph. "It states that Xanatos was afterwards arrested and sent to prison for receiving stolen property, for a few months' time."
Cobalt suddenly stood up, his tail whipping the air from left and right, like a dog who was promised a walk at the park. "So that means that the gargoyles must be in this castle !" Cobalt shouted, a spark of hope shining through his blue pupils.
"They must have died thousands of years ago Cobalt" Spike sighed, shaking his head. "There wouldn't be any point in risking to be seen in the skies of Manhattan."
"We don't have anything to lose do we ?" Megan said, standing close to the white gargoyle. "Come on Spike ! Where is your sens of adventure ? Your lose of discovery and risk ? The feel of the action ! We'll have fun ! What can happen ?"
"We don't have anywhere to stay." Spike protested, fear and concern flowing through him.
"We'd just perch ourselves on the roof of some hotel," Cobalt replied, putting a hand on Spike's shoulder. "while she'd take a room for a few days, until we find out if this Castle Wyvern story is true."
Spike sighed, shaking his head, walking toward the window. He hesitated, but on the other hand, he was pretty excited. He was tempted to go on that adventure, but what if it was a web of lies ? What if they were losing their time and risking their own safety and the little perfect lives they were living here, in Boston ? Spike opened the wooden door, and looked at the landscape from the balcony. A crisp winter upcoming dawn and there was a frosty chill in the air. A sweet surrendering scent of the moist morning dew that houses and lights all around the sublime city. The mixed cool winter leaves from the tall trees lay scattered on the forest floor; they were in the motion of turning a brittle brown. There was the sound of shattered glass that emphasised the leaves being crunched, as if you were to step on them, pushing their papery remains deep into the brilliant white snow, which lined the ground like a fresh white cotton sheet. The passive and daunting forest of iron has the appeal of a forgotten land, which has been lost in time. The town remained in a capsule, untouched by the destructive essence of man. Until a few minutes though. The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and puzzled bushes had become the structure of Boston. The trees stood proud and tall as protectors of the exigent grounds, as the impregnated bushes that had consumed the hard regions of the forest, concealed the land from beneath the vibrant portals of the open sky. A shy sun started to show it's first rays. Spike turned to his brother, who had come close to him, followed by Megan.
"It's time," the brown gargoyle said. "Tomorrow, we will figure out a plan, before jumping into anything stupid." Spike perched himself on the fence, imitated by his brother, under the joyful gaze of the young woman.
"Does it mean we're going to Manhattan ?" Megan asked, hoping for a response.
"Yes" Spike replied, smiling to the archivist. "Yes we are."
Cobalt finally thought that his persistent hope has paid. It was the start of a brand new adventure for the family, as the two gargoyles adopted they threatening positions, all fangs and claws out, slowly and inevitably turned to granit stone as the sun's warmth hit their figures.