Griffin Creature Quotes

It is one thing to describe an interview with a gorgon or a griffin, a creature who does not exist. It is another thing to discover that the rhinoceros does exist and then take pleasure in the fact that he looks as if he didn't.

Hippogriff, n. An animal (now extinct) which was half horse and half griffin. The griffin was itself a compound creature, half lion and half eagle. The hippogriff was actually, therefore, only one-quarter eagle, which is two dollars and fifty cents in gold. The study of zoology is full of surprises.

No matter what creatures people fear in the dead of the night, in this city, violence is more likely to be carried out by men

Almost all of history is an unbroken trail of one conspiracy after another. Conspiracies are the norm, not the exception.

It is not enough to know what we are against. We must also know what we are for.

Knowledge by itself is not power, but it holds the potential for power if we use it a s a guide for action. Truth will always be defeated by tyranny unless the people are willing to step forward and put their lives into the battle. The future belongs, not to ideas, but to people who act on those ideas.

You know how it is -- you get older, you get wiser, you start to ask yourself 'is it any use being able to summon creatures of the nether deeps when I could be watching BBC 4?

Griffins are mythical creatures—half eagle, half lion. They are believed to be loyal and protective of treasures and priceless possessions. What were the chances of finding a grocery store guy and a Griffin? Well done, Fate. Well done.

My name is Matthew Swift. I’m a sorcerer, the only one in the city who survived Robert Bakker’s purge. I was killed by my teacher’s shadow and my body dissolved into telephone static and all they had left to bury was a bit of blood. Then we came back, and I am we and we are me, and we are the blue electric angels, creatures of the phones and the wires, the gods made from the surplus life you miserable excuse for mortals pour into all things electric. I am the Midnight Mayor, the protector of the city, the guardian of the night, the keeper of the gates, the watcher on the walls. We turned back the death of cities, we were there when Lady Neon died, we drove the creature called Blackout into the shadows at the end of the alleys, we are light, we are life, we are fire and, would you believe it, the word that best describes our condition right now is cranky. Would you like to see what happens when you make us mad?

It is a special kind of enlightenment to have this feeling that the usual, the way things normally are, is odd—uncanny and highly improbable. G. K. Chesterton once said that it is one thing to be amazed at a gorgon or a griffin, creatures which do not exist; but it is quite another and much higher thing to be amazed at a rhinoceros or a giraffe, creatures which do exist and look as if they don’t.

(Hippocampi are so my newest favorite mythological creature. I keep asking my husband for one. He keeps saying no, the griffin wouldn’t like it.)

The new business model for America is clearly recognizable. Its dominant feature is the merger of government, real estate, and commerce into a single structure, tightly controlled at the top. It is the same model used in Soviet Russia, Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, and Communist China.

He’s barely finished himself inside me when my release hits. My thighs tense. The breath stalls in my lungs, and then I kick back my head and let out the loudest, throatiest, and most breathless moan in the history of all history, going boneless in a blissful rush. “Gods, I missed you,” Griffin rasps, holding me as I throb around him. The high-impact tremors fade into sweet, lingering aftershocks. I look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. My lips part, but no words come out. Even the drag of frosty air over my kiss-swollen lips is almost too sensual to bear. Griffin quirks a dark eyebrow, looking smug. “That was easy.” I grin, falling in love with him all over again. “Then do it again.

This, of course, is a classic example of the failure of liberal economics. When evaluating a policy, it focuses only on one beneficial consequence for one group of people and ignores the multitude of harmful effects which befall all other groups.

The accepted version of history is that the Federal Reserve was created to stabilize our economy. One of the most widely-used textbooks on this subject says: "It sprang from the panic of 1907, with its alarming epidemic of bank failures: the country was fed up once and for all with the anarchy of unstable private banking."23 Even the most naive student must sense a grave contradiction between this cherished view and the System's actual performance. Since its inception, it has presided over the crashes of 1921 and 1929; the Great Depression of '29 to '39; recessions in '53, '57, '69, '75, and '81; a stock market "Black Monday" in '87; and a 1000% inflation which has destroyed 90% of the dollar's purchasing power.24

Gentlemen,” he said, “I am a simple soldier. When I was a cadet at Norwich, I was told, and I believed, and my subsequent career has proven true, that the essence of command is to make sure the troops have confidence in what they are doing. Troops must have faith in their officers Officers build and maintain that faith in a very simple manner: They never lie to their troops; they never ask them to do something they cannot do themselves, or are unwilling to do themselves; and they never partake of creature comforts until the last private in the rear rank has that creature comfort. If you’ll keep that in mind, I’m sure that we’ll get along.

The primitive races of mankind were terrified by the hydra that flew upon the water, by the dragon that belched fire, by the griffin, that aerial monster with wings on an eagle and a tiger's claws — fearful creatures beyond the control of men. But man sets his traps, the miraculous traps conceived by human intelligence, and in the end he captured them.

People who will not turn a shovel full of dirt on the project nor contribute a pound of materials will collect more money...than will the people who will supply all the materials and do all the work.56

The circular which was distributed to attract subscribers to the Bank's initial stock offering explained: "The Bank hath benefit of interest on all the moneys which it, the Bank, creates out of nothing.

So they demonstrate in the streets in protest, they riot in the commercial sections of town so they can steal goods from stores, and they throng to the banner of politicians who promise to restore or increase their benefits.

Behind the troubled banks and the increasingly troubled insurance agencies stands "the full faith and credit" of the Government—in effect, a promise, sure to be honored by Congress, that all citizens will chip in through taxes or through inflation to make all depositors whole.80

The true nature of the inflation effect has never been more accurately perceived or more vividly described than it was by Thomas Jefferson: It will be asked how will the two masses of Continental and of State money have cost the people of the United States seventy-two millions of dollars, when they are to be redeemed now with about six million? I answer that the difference, being sixty-six millions, has been lost on the paper bills separately by the successive holders of them. Every one, through whose hands a bill passed, lost on that bill what it lost in value during the time it was in his hands. This was a real tax on him; and in this way the people of the United States actually contributed those sixty-six millions of dollars during the war, and by a mode of taxation the most oppressive of all because the most unequal of all.

I was convinced that the Natural History Museum was missing only one thing: a unicorn. Well, a unicorn and a dragon. Also it was missing werewolves. (Why was there nothing about werewolves in the Natural History Museum? I wanted to know about werewolves.) There were vampire bats, but none of the better-dressed vampires on display , and no mermaids at all, not one— I looked— and as for griffins or manticores, they were completely out.

The night candle on the bedside table burst into spontaneous flame. The golden glow revealed a creature whose pale white skin was marked with dark blue swirls, like some barbarian war paint. Fins jutted from her arms and legs, and the claws tipping fingers and toes clung to the house’s woodsiding. A host of slender tendrils squirmed around her face in place of hair, and her grin revealed row after row of shark’s teeth. Oh, thank heavens. Nothing to be afraid of after all

And so, as the passengers drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic clicking of steel wheels against rail, little did they dream that, riding in the car at the end of their train, were six men who represented an estimated one-fourth of the total wealth of the entire world. This was the roster of the Aldrich car that night: Nelson W. Aldrich, Republican "whip" in the Senate, Chairman of the National Monetary Commission, business associate of J.P. Morgan, father-in-law to John D. Rockefeller, Jr.; Abraham Piatt Andrew, Assistant Secretary of the U.S. Treasury; Frank A. Vanderlip, president of the National City Bank of New York, the most powerful of the banks at that time, representing William Rockefeller and the international investment banking house of Kuhn, Loeb & Company; Henry P. Davison, senior partner of the J.P. Morgan Company; Benjamin Strong, head of J.P. Morgan's Bankers Trust Company;1 6. Paul M. Warburg, a partner in Kuhn, Loeb & Company, a representative of the Rothschild banking dynasty in England and France, and brother to Max Warburg who was head of the Warburg banking consortium in Germany and the Netherlands.2

The reality of government disruption of the free market cannot be overemphasized, for it is at the heart of our present and future crisis. We have savings institutions that are controlled by government at every step of the way. Federal agencies provide protection against losses and lay down rigid guidelines for capitalization levels, number of branches, territories covered, management policies, services rendered, and interest rates charged. The additional cost to S&Ls of compliance with this regulation has been estimated by the American Bankers Association at about $11 billion per year, which represents a whopping 60% of all their profits.

Griffin’s words are not carte blanche to put forward convoluted or paranormal explanations for animal behavior. I see them, and Nagel’s essay, as a call for humility. They remind us that other animals are sophisticated, and that, for all our vaunted intelligence, it is very hard for us to understand other creatures, or to resist the tendency to view their senses through our own. We can study the physics of an animal’s environment, look at what they respond to or ignore, and trace the web of neurons that connects their sense organs to their brains. But the ultimate feats of understanding—working out what it’s like to be a bat, or an elephant, or a spider—always require what psychologist Alexandra Horowitz calls “an informed imaginative leap.

The necessity arising from a want of specie is represented as greater than it really is. I contend that it is by the substance, not the shadow of a thing, we are to be benefited. The wisdom of man, in my humble opinion, cannot at this time devise a plan by which the credit of paper money would be long supported; consequently, depreciation keeps pace with the quantity of the emission, and articles for which it is exchanged rise in a greater ratio than the sinking value of the money. Wherein, then, is the farmer, the planter, the artisan benefited? An evil equally great is the door it immediately opens for speculation, by which the least designing and perhaps most valuable part of the community are preyed upon by the more knowing and crafty speculators.

Well, now it looks as if the time’s come for witchers. You’re reading Roderick de Novembre? As far as I remember, there are mentions of witchers there, of the first ones who started work some three hundred years ago. In the days when the peasants used to go to reap the harvest in armed bands, when villages were surrounded by a triple stockade, when merchant caravans looked like the march of regular troops, and loaded catapults stood on the ramparts of the few towns night and day. Because it was us, human beings, who were the intruders here. This land was ruled by dragons, manticores, griffins and amphisboenas, vampires and werewolves, striga, kikimoras, chimera and flying drakes. And this land had to be taken from them bit by bit, every valley, every mountain pass, every forest and every meadow. And we didn’t manage that without the invaluable help of witchers. But those times have gone, Geralt, irrevocably gone. The baron won’t allow a forktail to be killed because it’s the last draconid for a thousand miles and no longer gives rise to fear but rather to compassion and nostalgia for times passed. The troll under the bridge gets on with people. He’s not a monster used to frighten children. He’s a relic and a local attraction -- and a useful one at that. And chimera, manticores and amphisboenas? They dwell in virgin forests and inaccessible mountains--

In the February 9, 1935, issue of the Saturday Evening Post, an article appeared written by Frank Vanderlip. In it he said: Despite my views about the value to society of greater publicity for the affairs of corporations, there was an occasion, near the close of 1910, when I was as secretive—indeed, as furtive—as any conspirator.... I do not feel it is any exaggeration to speak of our secret expedition to Jekyll Island as the occasion of the actual conception of what eventually became the Federal Reserve System.... We were told to leave our last names behind us. We were told, further, that we should avoid dining together on the night of our departure. We were instructed to come one at a time and as unobtrusively as possible to the railroad terminal on the New Jersey littoral of the Hudson, where Senator Aldrich's private car would be in readiness, attached to the rear end of a train for the South.... Once aboard the private car we began to observe the taboo that had been fixed on last names. We addressed one another as "Ben," "Paul," "Nelson," "Abe"—it is Abraham Piatt Andrew. Davison and I adopted even deeper disguises, abandoning our first names. On the theory that we were always right, he became Wilbur and I became Orville, after those two aviation pioneers, the Wright brothers.... The servants and train crew may have known the identities of one or two of us, but they did not know all, and it was the names of all printed together that would have made our mysterious journey significant in Washington, in Wall Street, even in London. Discovery, we knew, simply must not happen, or else all our time and effort would be wasted. If it were to be exposed publicly that our particular group had got together and written a banking bill, that bill would have no chance whatever of passage by Congress.

Your committee is satisfied from the proofs submitted ... that there is an established and well defined identity and community of interest between a few leaders of finance ... which has resulted in great and rapidly growing concentration of the control of money and credit in the hands of these few men.... Under our system of issuing and distributing corporate securities the investing public does not buy directly from the corporation. The securities travel from the issuing house through middlemen to the investor. It is only the great banks or bankers with access to the mainsprings of the concentrated resources made up of other people's money, in the banks, trust companies, and life insurance companies, and with control of the machinery for creating markets and distributing securities, who have had the power to underwrite or guarantee the sale of large-scale security issues. The men who through their control over the funds of our railroad and industrial companies are able to direct where such funds shall be kept, and thus to create these great reservoirs of the people's money are the ones who are in a position to tap those reservoirs for the ventures in which they are interested and to prevent their being tapped for purposes which they do not approve.... When we consider, also, in this connection that into these reservoirs of money and credit there flow a large part of the reserves of the banks of the country, that they are also the agents and correspondents of the out-of-town banks in the loaning of their surplus funds in the only public money market of the country, and that a small group of men and their partners and associates have now further strengthened their hold upon the resources of these institutions by acquiring large stock holdings therein, by representation on their boards and through valuable patronage, we begin to realize something of the extent to which this practical and effective domination and control over our greatest financial, railroad and industrial corporations has developed, largely within the past five years, and that it is fraught with peril to the welfare of the country.3 Such was the nature of the wealth and power represented by those six men who gathered in secret that night and travelled in the luxury of Senator Aldrich's private car.

Competition also was coming from a new trend in industry to finance future growth out of profits rather than from borrowed capital. This was the outgrowth of free-market interest rates which set a realistic balance between debt and thrift. Rates were low enough to attract serious borrowers who were confident of the success of their business ventures and of their ability to repay, but they were high enough to discourage loans for frivolous ventures or those for which there were alternative sources of funding—for example, one's own capital. That balance between debt and thrift was the result of a limited money supply. Banks could create loans in excess of their actual deposits, as we shall see, but there was a limit to that process. And that limit was ultimately determined by the supply of gold they held. Consequently, between 1900 and 1910, seventy per cent of the funding for American corporate growth was generated internally, making industry increasingly independent of the banks.12 Even the federal government was becoming thrifty. It had a growing stockpile of gold, was systematically redeeming the Greenbacks—which had been issued during the Civil War—and was rapidly reducing the national debt. Here was another trend that had to be halted. What the bankers wanted—and what many businessmen wanted also—was to intervene in the free market and tip the balance of interest rates downward, to favor debt over thrift. To accomplish this, the money supply simply had to be disconnected from gold and made more plentiful or, as they described it, more elastic.

A small child being dragged to bed peered curiously at me as it passed, then waved. We waved back, not being entirely sure how else to respond to small creatures like that.

All this seems marvelously futile, and yet, when you begin to think about it, it begins to be more marvelous than futile. Indeed, it seems extremely odd. It is a special kind of enlightenment to have this feeling that the usual, the way things normally are, is odd - uncanny and highly improbable. G. K. Chesterton once said that it is one thing to be amazed at a gorgon or a griffin, creatures which do not exist; but it is quite another and much higher thing to be amazed at a rhinoceros or a giraffe, creatures which do exist and look as if they don’t. This feeling of universal oddity includes a basic and intense wondering about the sense of things. Why, of all possible worlds, this colossal and apparently unnecessary multitude of galaxies in a mysteriously curved space-time continuum, these myriads of differing [...] species playing frantic games of one-upmanship, these numberless ways of “doing it” from the elegant architecture of the snow crystal or the diatom to the startling magnificence of the lyrebird or the peacock?

Women take everything literally, Griffin. Never assume girls know what you want. Always tell them. We’re silly creatures and sometimes you have to just spell it out for us.

I stared in stoned awe at a beast with a body made of books, the head of an alligator, and teeth of broken piano keys. I gawked at a giant baby doll climbing the Eiffel Tower with thousands of spindly naked people flying out of its mouth. The visual journey ended with a serpentine creature whose lamprey mouth coiled around the door’s border as hundreds of tiny tendrils extended from the mouth’s center. The tendrils reached toward the baby doll and alligator book creature and its piano key teeth, while other nightmare beasts danced at their feet and in the background.

man named G. Edward Griffin did an outstanding job of just this in his book, the literal “Bible” about the Federal Reserve, called The Creature from Jekyll Island. I highly suggest you read it.

After The Worldly Philosophers, I recommend reading The Creature from Jekyll Island by G. Edward Griffin, Paul Zane Pilzer’s Unlimited Wealth, James Dale Davidson’s The Sovereign Individual, Robert Preacher’s The Crest of the Wave, and Harry Dent’s The Great Depression Ahead.

to be discovered during the initial excavation of Knossos was the so-called Throne Room. It was a modestly-sized room, but what was so special about it was the gypsum throne built into the north wall. The throne had a high back and was surrounded by stone benches on either side. Opposite the throne were steps down to a recessed area, most likely a type of bathtub or water tank. Sir Arthur Evans, who oversaw the initial excavation, believed it was used for ritual purification, although a lack of drainage calls that interpretation into question. Some modern scholars believe it may have been an aquarium, water storage container, or even a menstrual pit. The walls behind the throne were decorated with what is known as the Griffin Fresco. It depicted two recumbent—lying down—griffins facing the throne with one on either side of it. Griffins were considered important mythological creatures, and they were often depicted attending a deity. Behind the griffins was a landscape in

Who can refuse the hand of the All Powerful One who abases Himself to the most unworthy of His creatures? How happy I am, my dear sister! I have been captured in the loving nets of the divine Fisherman. I would like to make you understand this happiness.

Don't you feel terror in the presence of the infinite spaces that Pascal speaks of?" She replied: "Why should I feel afraid? Isn't this world the house of God? Instead of frightening me, they move me to take flight into my soul with the confidence of a creature of God.

understanding both our history and our future. After The Worldly Philosophers, I recommend reading The Creature from Jekyll Island by G. Edward Griffin, Paul Zane Pilzer’s Unlimited Wealth, James Dale Davidson’s The Sovereign Individual, Robert Preacher’s The Crest of the Wave, and Harry Dent’s The Great Depression Ahead. While

The griffins could have become deities of their own if they’d held more ambition. I met this one before, you know. Long before you were ever born. He was a rabid creature in those days, one of the fiercest. I also remember you being a bit unmanageable when we met in the kingdom.” He laughed as he recalled. “Your trainers wanted nothing to do with you and your disorderly temper. But it seems you have settled and, in the process, trained this beast to be no better than a common pet. We’ll have to change that.

Jonah suddenly let go of my neck, and the fucker stood on my back. Griffin surfing. Coming soon to ESPN.

In ancient times, it’s said, Eudea was filled with winged creatures. Wrathful dragons, fiery phoenixes, mighty griffins, and graceful pegasi. They were coveted: After all, who amongst us hasn’t dreamed of flying? Many reached for them with hand and rope and spear, wanting to claim their power, to own it. But winged creatures cannot bear the weight of chains.

future. After The Worldly Philosophers, I recommend reading The Creature from Jekyll Island by G. Edward Griffin, Paul Zane Pilzer’s Unlimited Wealth, James Dale Davidson’s The Sovereign Individual, Robert Preacher’s The Crest of the Wave, and Harry Dent’s The Great Depression Ahead.

I HAVEN’T HAD the Dream in a long time. But it’s back. And it’s changed. It does not begin as it always has, with the chase. The woods. The mad swooping of the griffins and the charge of the hose-beaked vromaski. The volcano about to erupt. The woman calling my name. The rift that opens in the ground before me. The fall into the void. The fall, where it always ends. Not this time. This time, these things are behind me. This time, it begins at the bottom. I am outside my own body. I am in a nanosecond frozen in time. I feel no pain. I feel nothing. I see someone below, twisted and motionless. The person is Jack. Jack of the Dream. But being outside it, I see that the body is not mine. Not the same face. As if, in these Dreams, I have been dwelling inside a stranger. I see small woodland creatures, fallen and motionless, strewn around the body. The earth shakes. High above, griffins cackle. Water trickles beneath the body now. It pools around the head and hips. And the nanosecond ends. The scene changes. I am no longer outside the body but in. Deep in. The shock of reentry is white-hot. It paralyzes every molecule, short-circuiting my senses. Sight, touch, hearing—all of them join in one huge barbaric scream of STOP. The water fills my ear, trickles down my neck and chest. It freezes and pricks. It soothes and heals. It is taking hold of the pain, drawing it away. Drawing out death and bringing life. I breathe. My flattened body inflates. I see. Smell. Hear. I am aware of the soil ground into my skin, the carcasses all around, the black clouds lowering overhead. The thunder and shaking of the earth. I blink the grit from my eyes and struggle to rise. I have fallen into a crevice. The cracked earth is a vertical wall before me. And the wall contains a hole, a kind of door into the earth. I see dim light within. I stand on shaking legs. I feel the snap of shattered bones knitting themselves together. One step. Two. With each it becomes easier. Entering the hole, I hear music. The Song of the Heptakiklos. The sound that seems to play my soul like a guitar. I draw near the light. It is inside a vast, round room, an underground chamber. I enter, lifted on a column of air. At the other side I see someone hunched over. The white lambda in his hair flashes in the reflected torch fire. I call to him and he turns. He looks like me. Beside him is an enormous satchel, full to bursting. Behind him is the Heptakiklos. Seven round indentations in the earth. All empty.

From 1981 to 1991, the average return on ten-year Treasury bills was 10.4 per cent; the Dow Jones Industrial Average was 12.9 per cent; and the average return on so-called junk bonds was 14.1 per cent.

And so, when more than 1900 S&L's went belly-up in the Great Depression, Herbert Hoover—and a most willing Congress—created the Federal Home Loan Bank Board to protect depositors in the future.

While the Marxists were promising a chicken in every pot, the New Dealers were winning elections by pushing for a house on every lot. In

the FHA-induced easy credit began to push up the price of houses for the middle class, and that quickly offset any real advantage of the subsidy.

The weakest S&L's paid the highest interest rates to attract depositors and they are the ones which obtained the large blocks of brokered funds. Brokers no longer cared how weak the operation was, because the funds were fully insured. They just cared about the interest rate. On the other hand,

Deals began to go sour, and 1979 was the first year since the Great Depression of the 1930s that the total net worth of federally insured S&Ls became negative. And that was despite expansion almost everywhere else in the economy. The public began to worry.

The Gam-St. Germain Act allowed the thrifts to lend an amount of money equal to the appraised value of real estate rather than the market value. It wasn't long before appraisers were receiving handsome fees for appraisals that were, to say the least, unrealistic.

Since the S&Ls were required to have $1 in capital for every $33 held in deposits, an appraisal that exceeded market value by $1 million could be used to pyramid $33 million in deposits from Wall Street brokerage houses. And the anticipated profits from those funds was one of the ways in which the S&Ls were supposed to recoup their losses without the government having to cough up the money—which it didn't have. In effect the government was saying: "We can't make good on our protection scheme, so go get the money yourself by putting the investors at risk. Not only will we back you up if you fail, we'll show you exactly how to do it.

Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia) is a classic case. After its independence, the leftist government nationalized (confiscated) many of the farms previously owned by white settlers. The most desirable of these lands became occupied by the government's senior ruling-party officials, and the rest were turned into state-run collectives. They were such miserable failures that the workers on these farmlands were, themselves, soon begging for food. Not daunted by these failures, the socialist politicians announced in 1991 that they were going to nationalize half of the remaining farms as well. And they barred the courts from inquiring into how much compensation would be paid to their owners.

Led by Communist organizers, mobs roamed the streets shouting "We're hungry. Steal what you will!" The nation was hopelessly in debt with no way to repay.

LAW: Long-term price stability is possible only when the money supply is based upon the gold (or silver) supply without government interference.

But it cannot happen unless private industry is allowed to flourish in a system of free-enterprise. The problem with this option

They may desire the option of increasing the nation's income by increasing its productivity, but their political agenda prevents that from happening.101 The second option is to

They add up to one thing: the building of world socialism.

the result will be the expansion of government.

When the fund was exhausted, the solvent banks were punished by being forced to pay for the deficits of the insolvent ones.

Slavery was an issue, but the primary force for war was a clash between the economic interests of the North and the South. Even the issue of slavery itself was based on economics. It may have been a moral issue in the North where prosperity was derived from the machines of heavy industry, but in the agrarian South, where fields had to be tended by vast work forces of human labor, the issue was primarily a matter of economics.

Thus, open taxes at some level serve to perpetuate public ignorance which is essential to the success of the scheme. The second reason is that taxes, particularly progressive taxes, are weapons by which elitist social planners can wage war on the middle class.

There are four levels of predator that riders are capable of creating: Hider, Hunter, Marauder and Mythical.’ On the last of those words, Mitchell went a bit misty-eyed. ‘The Hiders are the least powerful – think of the types of animals that eat others but aren’t that big or scary, the ones that lie in wait to strike, like a snake. The Hunters are the next level up – like that jackal today. Then Marauders are even more impressive – like Rex’s cheetah. He must have studied cheetahs really closely in the library. And then—’ ‘Wait, Rex created that cheetah based on a book?’ Bobby interrupted. ‘Riders used to spend hundreds of hours in libraries poring over ancient illustrations brought by the first people to train here,’ Mitchell explained, and then he blinked rapidly. ‘I’ve just had a thought! Maybe that’s partly why elemental predators have stayed banned. After the Treaty, maybe the Island was worried that Mainlander riders would be better at creating them because Mainlanders can study the predators in real life.’ ‘That sounds very likely,’ Skandar said darkly. ‘Anyway,’ Mitchell continued, clearly wanting to finish his lecture, ‘the Mythicals are the fourth level of predator and hardly any riders in history have been able to create those. The First Rider could, and one of the silver brothers who started the ancient war with the spirit wielders. Erm, let me think…’ ‘Mythical? As in, they take the shape of mythical creatures?’ Skandar couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. ‘Yes. Phoenixes, griffins, krakens, thunderbirds, dragons—’ ‘Dragons?!’ Bobby looked very excited.