Author: Dragonhulk <stevenstirling23[at]yahoo.com>

Summery: A short tale of how the Gargoyles died out.

Authors Notes: This story is in no way, shape, or form endorsed by Tenhawk or the other writers of the J-verse. I was simply re-reading the stories on the archive when I was attacked by a horde of bunnies with clubs, and this is an attempt to get them to stop beating my head.

Please also note that this is the first fanfic story I have written that doesn't center on Xander Harris. If you are one of my (few but very appreciated) fans from the XZ and think this story is sub par, that is probably the reason.

Scotland; October 994 AD

"Beloved?" asked a red haired creature as she made her way through the clearing. "I was caught by the dawn, what has happened?"

The creature that came into the clearing looked very much like the demon her species was accused of being. Her skin was sky blue, her wings slightly unfolded, and her tail moving with nervous energy.

She was Gargoyle, a species that was born to protect, but had also been given free will. Like all species that had a similar blessing/curse gargoyles were capable of great things, and because of her actions a great tragedy had befallen those she was supposed to protect.

"No," she whispered as she finally caught sight of her home, and the rubble that was once her clan. Only five warriors and a beast remained from a clan that was once almost five hundred, and they were trapped in their stone sleep.

Then even as she stood in shocked silence the highest tower began to crumble from the damage the Vikings had inflicted on in. On the top of that tower sat the stone form of her mate, and as the stone gave way under its feet it fell through the air, and into the other five statues below it.

"NO!" shrieked the last member of the Wyvern clan as she sped towards the wreckage with incredible speed, praying to every god she had heard of that one of them would be alright. Her prayers, like many, went unanswered. The only thing that remained intact was the sword of the old leader.

"They did this," seethed the female gargoyle as she pulled the well crafted sword form the rubble. "The humans betrayed us, killed us animals when we were defenseless. I won't let that happen again my love, even if I have to kill every human in the world to do so."

Somewhere in Europe; December 1124

The gargoyle known as The Demon struggled against her bonds even as her blood continued to run down her aged body. Her blood joined the rest of her clans blood in a container, a container that had taken every drop of blood from her clan, but never gotten full.

"Struggle all you wish those chains held the rest of your clan without breaking, and they were all much younger than you," said a human with an oily voice as he continued to dismember the deceased bodies of her clan with the sword he had stolen from her.

"I suppose I should thank you before you die though, it is quite difficult of find gargoyle parts, and those given by you and your clan will last me for a thousand years," said the human just before a bold of bloody wood appeared in his chest.

"No, it will not," said an attractive young woman as she entered the cave, quickly followed by an older man.

"An adequate shot Slayer, but next time save the speech until after you have removed the head. Many magic users can survive a wooden bolt through the chest, best to be certain," said the older man.

"What about her?" asked the young woman gesturing towards the only other living being in the cave.

"Oh my," said the man as he took a closer look at the female gargoyle. "Could it really be?"

"Do I kill it?" asked the girl as she took the sword from the dead mage.

The man rolled his eyes and said, "Of course you kill it. If it is the particular gargoyle I think it is then it deserves it and much more, if not you would put it out its suffering."

The young slayer simply shrugged and used her newly acquired sword sever the neck and arms of the aged creature. The only thought that the slayer had as she killed the last of a species was how well the blade cut through flesh and bone.

Inside the blade an ancient soul once again raged against the spells that bound her. She was once again close enough to a suitable companion and she could do nothing.

It was almost enough to drive her completely mad.

The End


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