A Gift of Heroes – A Christmas Tale, Part 4

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The science fiction movies Gryphon had seen actually served him well, as reality dovetailed with imagination, for a moment.  The exhaust from the downward-pointed landing jets of the spaceship, did, as he had expected, kick up quite a lot of snow, and he found himself glad that he had shaded his eyes, and had the others turn their backs.

Then, the exhaust shut off – and Gryphon looked at the ship closely.

It was a diamond, longer than it was wide, perhaps 40 feet long, and 25 wide.  It was maybe 20 feet thick at it’s thickest point, a couple of inches thick at its most narrow.  The landing gear, which descended from the bottom, a few feet in from the corners, held the ship about 15 feet off of the ground.

Gryphon had expected a boarding ramp to lower, giving the aliens a limited field of fire, and limiting the numbers they could put on the field.  He was annoyed, and slightly worried, when a rectangular platform simply dropped from the middle of the vessel, very quickly.

They’re from a high gravity world, they can take higher acceleration and deceleration, Gryphon reminded himself.

There were 33 aliens on the platform, and they stared at the three humans, for a long moment, while the humans stared back.

The aliens were short, and muscular-looking.  The average height seemed to be around four feet, eight inches, with no on being more than a couple of inches shorter than that, and only three or four actually reaching five feet.  They had no visible hair, though all but five wore helmets.  Their skin was a very pale green, and their faces slightly protruding, as though they had had long snouts somewhere in their recent evolutionary history.

They were obviously militant.  They stood in four ranks of eight, with one out in front.  They wore a black uniform, most with red trim, four with orange trim, and one with green trim, he being the one in front.

Reds are grunts, Gryphon thought.  Yellows are squad leaders, and green is the sergeant.  And I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that they have three fingers and a thumb each, and think in base eight, for math.  Four sets of eight, and a sergeant.

The “squad leaders” and the “sergeant” all carried swords, not quite two and a half feet from base to tip.  Gryphon marked them as targets.

All but four of the aliens carried weapons that were identical to each other, long-barreled rifle-looking things that appeared to be made of red metal, and had silvery apertures.

The odd four weapons were bigger, longer, and of a more traditional-looking silvery metal.  Gryphon mentally tagged them as second priority, after the diamond mono-swords.  He figured that those had to be the particle beams.

He wondered, briefly, how they interpreted the three humans standing in front of them, unflinching, and unsurprised.

Then they were moving, alarmingly quickly (damn that high-gravity homeworld!), spreading out, leveling their weapons – and there was no time left for speculation.

Gryphon had already decided on a strategy, and, since the aliens had been kind enough to wear rank symbols he could distinguish, it was quite easy to implement.

The magni-field burst into being around him, and Gryphon went for the “sergeant,” who was drawing his mono-sword.

Take out the leaders, he thought, and the grunts will lose it.

The aliens were, he was pleased to note, already staring, some of them, at the glow of the magni-field, and the speed with which he was moving.

He steeled himself, as he ran, for the violence level that was going to be necessary to do this the only safe way it could be done.

Then he was on the “sergeant,” who had his sword halfway out of the sheathe.  Gryphon didn’t have to stomach for playing games, not when he was going to have to kill these things.  He simply turned on his energy blade, and cut the “sergeant’s” arm off, to make sure he didn’t finish drawing his sword, if Gryphon missed his second attack, then grabbed the creature’s forehead from behind, and cut off it’s head.

There were twin spurts of greenish blood, and Gryphon’s stomach tried to rebel.  He fought down the urge to vomit, and turned towards his next target.

Something hit him, then, and there was a sharp explosion, though a small one, and he felt a sharp sting, around the middle of his back, and staggered forward.

Gryphon recovered, and spun to see an alien pointing a blaster at him.

Note to self, he thought.  Blasters hurt – and more than one hitting at once could be bad.

He ran at the alien who had attacked him, zigging and zagging to avoid further shots, and did a jumping sidekick at the creature’s head while moving at slightly over 130 miles per hour.  He felt-heard the helmet it wore crack, and it’s head began flopping wildly on it’s shattered neck as the rest of it convulsed violently.  It fell, after only a second, and didn’t move again.

Gryphon shuddered once, and moved on.

Dawn had chosen a “squad leader” as her first target, though not for the same reasons as Gryphon.

She wanted a weapon.

She darted left, when the aliens broke up, and was on top of a “squad leader” before he could reach for his melee weapon.  He tried to bring his blaster rifle to bear, and she went around him backwards, in a fashion that Gunn had taught her, the backpedaling, circling gait confusing the heck out of her opponent.  As it tried to turn, and follow her, Dawn fired a thrust-kick into the alien’s side, toppling it, then simply stomp-kicked it’s neck, snapping it.  It convulsed for a moment, and when it stopped, Dawn took it’s sword, drawing it very carefully.

The weapon glimmered faintly in the light of the half moon, and Dawn was surprised at it’s lightness, and it’s beauty.  She turned the weapon slowly, in her hand, and it vanished, when she tried to look at it edge on.

She heard the snow crunch, then, and she ducked, sidestepped, and spun, all in one motion.  A blaster bolt sizzled over her shoulder, and Dawn automatically stepped closer, to make re-aiming difficult, and lashed out with the sword.

The alien’s left hand, and part of the barrel of the blaster rifle, hit the ground.  The creature made a hissing, bubbling noise, and green blood spurted from the severed wrist.  Without even thinking, Dawn reversed her swing, and took off the creature’s head.

Then she turned to look for a new target.

Naliara was a bit puzzled by the weaponry that these things carried, understanding only that they were ranged weapons, and that they would hurt.  Other than that . . . there was nothing all that odd about this to her.

They’re just like goblins, she thought, on seeing their greenish faces, with the snout-like nose and mouth, only smaller.  And with nastier weapons.

The first alien – one with a sword – came at her, and Naliara’s feet automatically fell into the rhythms of the Violent Dance.  She spun around the little monster, moving easily, even though it was fast.  As she passed behind it, she reversed her spin, and kicked it hard across the back of the head.  It staggered forward, and then spun and charged at her.  It seemed relatively unhurt, to her surprise.  But, they were supposed to be strong and tough.

Then the monster was coming at her, and she remember that the sword it held was supposed to be deadly dangerous.  At the last possible second, Naliara back-flipped away from the arcing blade, and lunged forward, staff out, when she landed.  The tip of her staff cracked the monster squarely in the snout, even as it tried to block with it’s sword.  Then, the still-moving sword smacked into the end of her staff, and Naliara held her breath –

And the staff didn’t break.  It had been made unbreakable, magically, and that was apparently enough to hold up even against these wonder-swords.

Naliara was still moving, and the goblin-thing was staring dumbly at her staff, and it’s own sword.  She took advantage of it’s unmoving state, backing off a couple of steps, and spinning through three steps of the violent dance, spinning her staff behind her body, in the same direction, to increase the momentum of the weapon.  Even as she finished her spin, the creature started to come out of it’s shocked surprise, and to back up.

Too late, she thought.

Her staff, with momentum from both her spin, and the weapon’s spin about her spinning form, whistled through the air, and cracked against the goblin’s neck.  The neck broke, and the creature danced spastically in place for a moment, before falling over dead.

Naliara finished her spin, but kept the base rhythm of the Violent Dance going, in order to make it harder to make a target of her, while she searched for another creature to target herself.

There was one some twenty feet away, aiming the red-metal weapon it carried at her, from behind.  There was no real time to close on the monster – so Naliara used her voice.

Her mouth opened, and she let loose with a high, shrill sound, which, while she didn’t realize it, sounded a lot like the weapons the goblin-things carried did when they were fired.

“Sreeeeeee!” Naliara cried – and the weapon in the goblin’s hands first cracked – then exploded, violently.  The blast was powerful, but very localized, extending only five feet from the weapon.

Naliara froze, in her surprise, for just a moment, then resumed the Violent Dance, while small bits of goblin rained to the ground around her.

Many of the goblins – perhaps half, or a little less – had gone around the trio of defenders, and were charging the house.  Naliara bit her lip, wishing that she dared to go and take up her position at Altairen’s side, where she felt more and more as though she belonged.  But, she had agreed, with Altairen, to follow the Gryphon’s orders.  And Altairen would be disappointed, if she broke her word, no matter how much she loved him – or he her.

She turned back to the battle, seeing that Gryphon had killed another goblin, and that the girl Dawn was chasing down two who were headed back to the sky-ship they had come in.

Then one of the goblins was coming at Naliara, hissing and sputtering in a language she did not understand, and holding a blade in it’s hand.  The blade suddenly began to vibrate – sounding like a hive a bees, waking for the day – and Naliara returned her concentration to the fight.

_________________________________________________

Altairen, Shirako, and Unicorn followed Eric Rhodes’s father into the house, and then into the living room.  Altairen was struck with wonder, for a moment, at the pine tree standing in one corner of the room, reaching almost to the top of the ten foot ceiling, glowing with strands of silver, each strand gathering color from the dozens of colored lights on the tree.

“Beautiful,” Altairen whispered, even as the voices of a woman and a boy rose in curiosity.

“Dad?” the boy’s voice said.  “Who are these people?”

“Jeff!” the woman in the room cried.  “That man has a sword!”

“It’s all right,” Jeff Rhodes said.  “Marla, Eric, it’s okay – I think.  They claim to be here to help.  And the guy in charge . . . he could have kept my gun, when he took it – but he didn’t.  And Hollywood liked them.”

“Jeff, what’s going on?” Marla Rhodes cried, pulling her son tightly into the circle of her arms.

Eric Rhodes, at ten, was a handsome little boy.  Unicorn could see the shadow of the man he would become, lurking in his slightly skinny face, in shoulders that were still the narrow shoulders of a child, but were already showing signs of just a hint of broadening . . . his black hair, and hazel eyes.  Those eyes, now, Unicorn liked much better.  When she had seen the boy’s adult eyes, they had burned with barely-contained rage.  Now, though, they were alight with curiosity, determination, and just a hint of fear.  Fear and all, this was quite an improvement over the rage he would now – hopefully – never feel.

“Mrs. Rhodes,” Unicorn said, stepping forward.  “Mrs. Rhodes, listen, okay?

“Something bad is about to happen.  We’re going to try to stop it.  I’m pretty sure that we can, I know that we can, really, but . . . you have to trust us.”

“Are you from the government?” Jeff Rhodes asked.

“No, not the government,” Unicorn said.  She was looking at Eric, whom, while he looked scared, was also standing in front of his mother, not trying to put her encircling arms off of himself – but his body language plainly saying that anyone who was going to try to hurt his mom was going to have to hurt him, first.  “We’re from a . . . oh, Hell – we’re friends, okay?”

“M’Lady,” Altairen said, as he folded the tunic he had just taken off, and laid it on his already folded cloak, “I am Altairen of Kavendale, Guardian of the Silver Star of Alethanna, Goddess of Justice.  My companions are Unicorn, and Shirako.  And I fear that there is no more time for answers, now.  You must trust us, and whatever Gods you believe in, to protect you.”

All three members of the Rhodes family were staring at Altairen’s chest, and for a moment, there was silence.

“Kewl!” Eric said after a moment.  “Mister, is that metal?”

“It is silver,” Altairen said.  “And the symbol is that of my goddess, Alethanna, the Goddess of Justice.”

“Goddess?” Marla Rhodes said sharply.  “What is going on here?!”

“Mrs. Rhodes.”

The calm, quiet voice belonged to Shirako.  Marla Rhodes, responding more to the calm of the girl’s voice than her own name, turned to look at Shirako.

“There isn’t much time,” Shirako said.  “But you deserve some sort of explanation.

“We’re from other worlds.  All three of us.  On our worlds, we’re heroes, I guess, though different types of heroes.  Unicorn is a super-hero, a real one, fighting publicly.

“Altairen is a rebel, fighting a guerilla war against a tyrant of a religious dictatorship.

“And I’m a . . . I defend against threats people don’t even want to admit the existence of.  I help a girl who operates quietly, so that people don’t lose it, when they find out that monsters are real – where I come from, at least.

“But none of that really matters, Mrs. Rhodes.  What matters is this:  A bad thing is going to happen here, tonight, unless we can stop it.  And it will be a lot easier to stop it, if you will just listen, and do as we ask.  I know, I sound crazy, and you don’t know any of us – but there are three people outside, already fighting, maybe, against a bunch of aliens who want to take your son from you – and we’re here to fight any of those aliens that make it past our friends.”

“Aliens?” Marla scoffed.  “Now, come on – ”

“I saw their ship, Marla,” Jeff Rhodes interrupted.  “No human agency made that ship.  No way.”

“I . . . aliens,” Marla said.   She knew her husband, knew he would never make such a sweeping statement, if he wasn’t sure.  “And they want to take Eric?”

“Aliens,” Shirako confirmed, rolling her sleeves  up.  “And trust me, Mrs. Rhodes – they aren’t taking your son.”

“What do we do?” Marla asked.

“Stand close together,” Unicorn said.  “Better take Hollywood with you, too.  But just stand close together, and trust that we’ll do our very best, Mrs. Rhodes.  And Mr. Rhodes – keep that shotgun ready, in case something happens, okay?”

The members of the Rhodes family huddled closer together, both parents with a hand on one of Eric’s shoulders, and Eric hugging the Golden Retriever, Hollywood, against his side.

“Now, trust me.  This won’t hurt, and you’ll be able to breathe just fine.”  Unicorn raised a hand, and a dome of golden energy suddenly covered the family.  “There.  That should stop all their weapons.”

Unicorn turned back to Shirako and Altairen, to discover that the big man was kneeling on the floor, praying quietly, and Shirako was stretching lightly.

“Are we ready?” Unicorn asked, when the prayers stopped.

Altairen didn’t get a chance to answer.  The back door flew off it’s hinges, and there were suddenly aliens pouring in the door.

Altairen came to his feet, his hands drawing his twin short swords as he rose, and his body bursting in to silver fire.

“Kewl!” Unicorn heard Eric say, as she made a disk on the floor, just in front of the two aliens in the lead.

The two lizard-looking aliens stepped on the disk, and, once both were fully on the disk, Unicorn flipped the disk up and forward, sending the aliens flying forward, out of control, one straight at Altairen, the other at a point midway between Unicorn and Shirako.

Altairen met the one flying at him with his blades, one sinking into the creature’s throat, the other into it’s belly.  It fell to the ground, and did not move.

Shirako was airborne before Unicorn could react, spinning clockwise, her right heel lashing out at the second alien’s head.  A monstrously loud kiai left the girl’s throat, even as her heel impacted on  the monster’s helmet, near a temple.  The helmet shattered, and caved in on that side of the head.  When the creature hit the ground, a stream of green blood coming from under it’s helmet, Shirako spat on it, and said, in a voice loaded with contempt, “You will shame the Dragon who spawned you, no more!”

She’s taking this personally, Unicorn thought, forming a disk near the ceiling, and slamming it down on three more aliens, as they entered.  I guess I can understand it.  Japanese – more traditional Japanese, at least – still have a kind of ancestor worship going on.  And her ancestor was a Dragon . . . .

Then there was blaster fire pouring past her, and Unicorn glanced over her shoulder, to make sure that the dome over the Rhodes family was holding, which it was, nicely.

Altairen, blazing silver, was engaged with two of the creatures, both holding buzzing, vibrating words, and Shirako was moving towards the door, muttering curses under her breath.

Unicorn sent a globe of force at one of the creatures fighting Altairen, moving it as fast as she could, smacking it in the head, sending it reeling backwards.  Altairen took advantage, lunging forward to impale the other on his short swords, both held close together, then ripping them out of the alien’s belly, by simply spreading his arms.

There was surprisingly little blood, and then the smell of charred flesh hit Unicorn, and she remembered that Dawn had said that evil things would burn, at the touch of the big warrior, or any weapon did not leave his hand.

Then the second one was back, and it’s vibrating sword bit into Altairen’s side, sending a spray of red blood into the room, as the man snarled, and fell back.

Unicorn acted instinctively.  She formed a disk of energy, thin, but strong, and set it to spinning, before sending it at the alien’s head, on a vertical plane.

The creature’s face was bisected neatly, and the disk stopped maybe halfway through the alien’s head.  It toppled over backwards, and Unicorn, not believing she had done that, let the disk dissolve.  Immediately, green blood began to flow copiously, and Unicorn fought back an urge to vomit, as she rushed to Altairen’s side.

“Let me – ” the healer started.

“No time,” Altairen said, pushing her gently back.  “I have fought more dangerous foes, with worse injuries, Lady Unicorn.  I will be fine, long enough to finish the battle – though then, I think, you will find me grateful for your aid!”

Before Unicorn could answer, or Altairen could rush to the side of Shirako, who was fighting in the doorway between living room and kitchen, there was an explosion outside, and Unicorn let out a little shriek, and clutched her stomach in sympathetic pain.

Gryphon’s pain, and fear, rushed into her, and she fought to control it, and her own fear, knowing, from his pain, and the sound of an explosion, that he had been shot with a particle beam, and it had caused the magni-field he surrounded himself with to explode.

If he’s afraid, he’s alive, Unicorn thought.  And I won’t disappoint him, by running out there, when he’s alive, has people to protect him, and there are still aliens in here.

She drew a deep breath, as the last of the sympathetic pain faded, and looked at Altairen, nodding to reassure him.

Then the aliens were rushing in again, and there was no more time to think.

_________________________________________________

Gryphon clutched his torn and bleeding stomach, and staggered to his feet, even as Dawn beheaded the alien who shot him with a particle beam, causing his massive injury.  There were four aliens left, now, and he knew that Dawn and Naliara could handle them, if they had to, without his help.

But, he could still move – and still help, though he wasn’t moving well.

Gryphon let himself slide to the ground again, and with his right hand, scooped up some snow.  He packed it with both hands, holding his left arm against his stomach, and looked around.

Naliara was facing two of the creatures, who were fast enough to have her in a pincers between them.  Gryphon raised his right hand, clutching the hard-packed, bloody red snowball he’d made, and fired his pressor beam, at maximum strength.  The bloody snowball shot away from his hand, and splashed across the snout of the alien that was facing him, spreading over it’s face, blinding it, and sending it staggering backwards.

Naliara took advantage of the respite, spinning away from the one she was still engaged with, then back towards it in big, fast, sweeping steps.  When she reached the momentum she needed, she threw herself into the air, staff clutched against her chest, spinning at the alien on a horizontal plane.  Both her feet hit the monster’s face, one after the other, the first knocking it’s helmet off, and breaking some bone in it’s face, and the second breaking more bones, and knocking the alien to the ground.

Naliara’s staff hit the ground, then, and she rode it’s momentum around, pivoting around it like it was a gymnastics bar, turned ninety degrees to the vertical.  Both feet slammed into the monster’s head, and Gryphon heard it’s neck snap, as Naliara bounced back into her dance.

Naliara straightened, flashed a smile at Gryphon, then turned and shrilled at the one he had shot, her high-pitched “Sreeee!” causing the thing’s weapon to explode, killing it, and splashing it across the immediate landscape.

Dawn had killed the last two, out here.  Gryphon motioned the Slayer to his side, and said, “Help me up.”  When she did so, he started hobbling towards the house.

“Hey, wait a second!” Dawn said.  “They may still be fighting!  You aren’t in any shape for that, sit down.”

“No,” Gryphon said.  “I can still help, if they need it.”

“Good grief,” Dawn said, renewing her support.  “You really are just like Riley.”

They went inside, to find that the fight was over, in here, as well.  All three combatants were splattered with green blood, as was a good bit of the room.

Unicorn was kneeling beside Altairen, both glowing gold, as she healed a deep gash in his side, and a wealth of bruises and abrasions.  Shirako, obviously sore, and blotting a series of deep scratches on her face, stood watching.

All three of the Rhodes family – all four, if you counted the dog – were standing by, looking a mixture of stunned, awed, and confused – but whole, healthy – alive!

Gryphon grinned, in spite of his torn stomach, and said softly, “One for the good guys!  We won!”

Mrs. Rhodes looked at Gryphon, blinked, then jerked out of her shock, crying, “My God, you’re hurt!  Sit down, I’ll get – ”

“I’ll be fine,” Gryphon said, accepting the offer of a chair.  “Unicorn can fix me – she’s brought me back from much worse than this.”

“I – are you sure?”

“I’ll be okay, Mrs. Rhodes.”  Gryphon looked at Eric, who was staring around bright eyed, and looking delighted at all the weird things that had happened, and untroubled (except for a ten year-old’s dislike for mushy stuff) at the fact that Dawn was kissing Shirako intensely, and never mind the blood on her girlfriends cheek – but troubled at all the blood and damage, at the same time.

I think we did it right, Gryphon thought.  I hope we did it right, anyway!  They’re alive! – and Eric isn’t an emotional wreck.

“Mister?” Eric said, as Unicorn finished with Altairen, and moved immediately to her lover, to heal him, “Where those really aliens?”

“Yes, they were,” Gryphon said, sighing as his pain lessened, and the healing started.  “They were aliens, Eric.

“Oh, and I’m the Gryphon, Eric.  Pleased to meet you.”

They shook hands solemnly, and then Eric said, “Did you guys have to kill all the aliens?  Were they bad guys?”

“They were evil,” Altairen said.  “Else they would not have burned at the touch of my Goddess’s fires.”

“They were bad guys, Eric,” Gryphon said.  “They – their entire race – live for violence, and they are afraid of – and hate – any race that they think even might threaten them, someday.

“And yes – we had to kill them.

“We’ve seen the future of this place, Eric – a future of it, at least.  And if they had done what they wanted, here, today, your – things would have been very bad, Eric.

“The only way to prevent that – for sure – was to kill them, all of them.

“But let me tell you, Eric – I didn’t like it.  Not even a little bit.”

“That’s good,” Eric said, sounding as though he really meant it.

“Yes,” Gryphon said.  “I’ve had to kill, once, since I became a hero.  I . . . it needed to be done, Eric, and I couldn’t find a way not to have to do it – and I tried to think of one, really I did – so I did it.  And I hated it, then, even though the man had killed thousands of people, including a girl I loved like a sister – and tried to kill someone else I cared about.

“I still have nightmares about it.  And I’ll probably have nightmares about this, too.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Gryphon said.  Unicorn was finished, and had moved over to take care of Shirako, and Gryphon stood.  “Eric, maybe someday, you’ll be in a position where you have to kill someone, to protect other people.  I hope not, but . . . it could happen.  If it does, remember – it’s going to hurt.  It’s going to give you nightmares.  But . . . the people you love can help, can make that better, make the nightmares less, just by being there for you.”

“I’ll remember.”  Eric looked around at the living room, the bodies, and his parents, and shuddered, a little.  “So . . . why did you guys come here?  Do this?”

“It needed to be done,” Gryphon said.  “And that’s what the good guys do, Eric.  We do what needs to be done.”

“How am I going to explain this?” Jeff Rhodes suddenly asked.  “The cops are going to freak!”

“I think we can – ” Unicorn started.

The bodies began to disappear.

“Ah, never mind.”  Gryphon grinned, and looked at the nearest mirror, which was a pond in a little winter scene diorama, on the coffee table.  “Thanks, Tessa.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Jeff Rhodes said, sighing, and dropping to the couch.  He watched numbly, as Altairen put his tunic and cloak back on.  “But I do know that I’m grateful as Hell, to you people.  Thank you, for my family’s lives.

“Is there any way we can repay you?”

“Your son,” Altairen said softly, “is a fine boy.  Continue raising him well, sir, and that is more than payment enough.”

“I . . . well, all right.”  Jeff looked around at these six people, now all healed, even the minor scratches of Dawn and Naliara.  “I can do that – we can do that.  But . . . well, can’t I at least give you a ride, somewhere?”

“No, I think we’ll walk,” Gryphon said.  “We all go our separate ways, soon, and . . . walking will give us time to talk.”

“I’m never going to find out about you people, am I?” Jeff said, as Gryphon slipped an arm around Unicorn’s waist.  “I’m never going to know more than I know right now, right?”

“We’re the good guys, Mr. Rhodes,” Dawn said, from Unicorn’s other side.  “Is anything else really all that important?”

Suddenly, in spite of his frustrated curiosity, Jeff Rhodes found himself grinning, then chuckling.  “No, Miss,” he said, around his laughter.  “I guess nothing else matters all that much.

“You’re the good guys.  You saved our lives.  You kept those monsters from taking my son.

“Nothing else matters.”

All six of the heroes shook hands with all three of the Rhodes family – and then they simply left, walking out the back door.

At the door, Gryphon paused, for just a moment, and grinned back at the Rhodes family.

“Oh, one more thing, folks:  Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Eric called back.

And then they were gone.

_________________________________________________

They didn’t talk that much, on the way back.  Instead, they sang.  Maybe ten paces from the door, Gryphon started singing, his crystal clear baritone echoing slightly around the foothills.  Unicorn, Dawn, and Shirako knew the song, and sang with him, all of their voice pleasant enough, Unicorn’s professional level, and the two girls’ blending well.

The second time through the chorus, Altairen and Naliara joined in, Altairen’s voice, while untrained, sounding a great deal like Gryphon’s.  After one run through, Altairen said, “A beautiful tune.  Again, please?”

Gryphon obliged, happily – and was surprised, and delighted, when Naliara and Altairen both joined in, getting the words right after only one hearing.

“We three kings of Orient are, bearing gifts, we come from afar.

"Field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder star.

“O star of wonder, star of night, Star with royal beauty bright,

"Westward leading, still proceeding, Guide us to thy perfect Light.”  

They reached the top of the hill, before they finished singing.  There, the six of them stopped, for a moment, staring in delight, as snow began to fall, fat, moist flakes, that fell slowly, but thickly, in the still air.

They walked down the hill, after a moment, Dawn snuggling Shirako, using the cold as an excuse, as neither of them were really dressed for it.

At the door to the house they had arrived in, they stopped, and looked at each other, unsure if they would see each other again, after entering the door. Tessa hadn’t been real specific, about how they would go home.

“I’m awful glad I met you guys,” Dawn said, a bit shyly, after a moment.  “And I’m even more glad that Tessa gave us this chance – and we did it.  And Gryphon, Unicorn – I promise, I’ll read your comic, when it comes out!”

“And when we get home, I shall find a bard – Naliara sings, but claims not to be able to write songs,” Altairen said.  “So, I shall find a bard, and we shall tell him of what we six have done – and see that our world knows of the heroism of those of other worlds, as well!”

“Just promise me you’ll make Naliara sing it!” Gryphon said.

“I shall,” Altairen said, smiling.  “I shall, I swear it.”

“And we’ll see if that book – Fires of Justice, right, Dawn?” Unicorn asked.  Dawn nodded, and the healer continued, “We’ll see if that book exists in our world, and read it, if it does.  And watch next season’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer religiously!  I wonder who they’ll get to play you, Dawn?”

“I don’t know,” Gryphon said.  “But I think she looks a lot like that kid – Michelle something – that played Penny, in Inspector Gadget.  But grown up some.”

Suddenly, Naliara leapt forward, and hugged Gryphon, hard – and that started a chain reaction.  Everyone hugged everyone, some more than once – and they turned to the door.

“It has been an honor – and a pleasure,” Altairen said, and slipping an arm around Naliara’s waist, stepped into the house – and vanished.

“I’m really glad we met you guys,” Dawn said.  “And that we won!”

“And I’m glad that we met you, as well,” Shirako said.  “And I hope that they find a comic book artist who does you justice!”

Then the girls were gone.

“Ready to go home, gorgeous?” Gryphon asked, offering Unicorn his arm.

“Very ready, Tiger,” Unicorn said.

They stepped through the door – to find themselves back in Tessa’s “briefing room,” with Dawn, Shirako, Naliara, and Altairen standing around, looking like they were waiting for something.  Tessa stood next to the big mirror/window, smiling.

“Is everything all right, Tessa?” Gryphon asked.

“Everything is fine,” the white-haired . . . woman? . . . said.  “I simply thought that the six of you deserved to see how you have wrought.”

She stepped aside, as the six sat down, and waved her hand at the mirror.  Immediately, they saw a scene that looked as though it had taken place very shortly after they had left.

“Dad?” Eric said, as the view faded in.  “I know it’s late to ask for a Christmas present, but . . . for my birthday, do you think I could maybe start taking karate?”

“I think that might be arranged, son,” Jeff Rhodes replied.  “I think it might even be a good idea.”

“Why do you want karate lessons, Eric?” his mother asked.

“I want to be able to do something like what they did,” Eric said, seriously, “If I ever have to.”

His mother looked startled, but not displeased.  Eric turned back to look out the window, at the falling snow, and whispered, “I want to be one of the good guys!”

Gryphon opened his mouth to speak, but the show wasn’t over.  The scene shifted, then, to Eric, growing older, wearing a karate gi, progressing higher and higher through the belt ranks, working through ever-more-complex katas.  Soon, Eric, 15 or 16, was receiving his black belt, from a fiftyish man.

Then the scene shifted again, to Eric driving down a mountain road in a jeep.

“Nine days after his 16th birthday,” Tessa said.  “Eric Rhodes manifested his powers.”

Eric was pulling over, next to an overturned car in a ditch.  There was a woman hanging upside down, in the car – and a brushfire going, nearby.  Eric tried to open the car door, yanking mightily, but the slightly crumpled roof was holding the door shut.

Then, suddenly, there was a flare of silver-gold energy, and Eric was holding the car door in his hands, staring at it blankly, body coruscating with a silver-gold fire that didn’t burn his clothes.  After a moment, a HUGE, delighted grin spread across his face, and he tossed aside the car door, and reached in to check the pulse of the woman in the car.  He began extricating her, gently, and the scene darkened.

“He told his parents, of course, trusting them to understand,” Tessa said.  “As astronauts, they were also trained scientists, and were able to help him quantify his powers, and learn to use them, quickly.

“And two months later, a psychotic racist named Harvey Johnson, got super-powers.  Calling himself ‘Purity,’ he attacked an all black neighborhood in his native city of Philadelphia, setting much of it on fire, with his flame-based powers, killing dozens of people – but not near as many as he might have.”

The screen became active again, showing a man dressed all in white, flying through the air, an aura of flame surrounding him.  He was sending blasts of fire off of his hands, setting buildings on fire, and people.  Then, he took aim at a child, a boy of seven or eight, and sent a bolt of fire at him –

– And it splashed harmlessly off of the chest of a tall, handsome young man, floating in mid-air, dressed in black pants, and green tunic, like Gryphon’s, buttoning to one side, on a diagonal.  On the tunic was emblazoned a golden star, nine-rayed, and the young man wore a tie-on mask.  He was glowing with a familiar silver-gold fire . . . .

“Who the HELL are you?!” Purity screamed, furious at having been cheated of his kill.

“My name,” the young man said, “is GuardStar – and I’m one of the good guys!”

The fight that followed was short, and GuardStar – Eric! – won it easily, and prevented any further deaths.

“That was just the beginning,” Tessa said, over a montage of GuardStar fighting various villains, and criminals, and just saving lives, “of a career that spanned decades – and a life that was full, and rich, and filled with joy, from helping others – and from loving others.”

The scene that followed showed GuardStar fighting against several men in powered armor, and taking a beating – until a small woman came on the scene, moving so fast she was almost a blur, and beating the armored men back with a skill and strength that showed that super-speed was not her only ability.  That turned the tide – and soon, GuardStar, and the young woman, who introduced herself as White Mongoose, had taken down all of the armored men.

The scene shifted again, showing Eric, and a young woman who had to be White Mongoose, out of costume, sitting across a candle-lit table from one another, obviously on a date.

“Then, the Fomarrin returned.”

And the window changed again, to show a scene of mass carnage.  There were dozens, maybe hundreds, of Fomarrin bodies, and just as many humans.  Eric, in his badly-battered costume, knelt in the middle of the scene, sobbing against White Mongoose’s neck, as she held him, and rocked him.

“And this time – this time, Eric, very much in love with Valerie Hunter – White Mongoose – and generally very happy with his world, his life – this time, he found a way to defeat the Fomarrin army without dying, without weakening the walls between worlds.

“With Valerie’s help, and love, he overcame the hurt, the pain, of the deaths that he caused that day.  And soon, after he re-appeared as GuardStar, for the first time, since the Fomarrin massacre, Eric Rhodes and Valerie Hunter were married.”

The scene shifted again – to a house that looked like the house his parents had raised Eric in.  Eric and Valerie, obviously older, but both still very attractive, were standing on the lawn, arms around each other’s waists, looking into the sunset sky, at three kids, all in their teens, who were flying through the air, playing a complex game of aerial tag.

The scene faded, then, and the mirror was just a mirror.

“WE DID IT!” Gryphon yelled – and suddenly, all six heroes were in the middle of the room, everyone hugging everyone else, and all of them leaking tears in relief.

“You did,” Tessa said, when they had calmed, and looked back at her.  “You saved the life, and possibly the soul, of a ten year old boy.  He still became a hero – but he did so for the right reasons!

“Eric Rhodes became GuardStar, not from hate, or a need for vengeance.

“He donned his costume, and set about saving lives, not from some need to make up for the lives he could not save – but from a sense of gratitude.

“He was not driven to become a hero.

“He was inspired!

“Inspired by the actions of six people, who saved the lives of his parents, and, in the end, himself.

“He gave back to his world what he was given:  Inspiration . . . and a gift of heroes.”

Tessa smiled, then, a soft and wondering smile.

“You have done all that was asked of you, my friends.  Now, go home – and merry Christmas, and a joyous God’s Day, to all of you.”

There was a flash of light, and six heroes were sent home, knowing that they had done the right thing – and the right way.

Fini

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