What is a skyearl?

I invented skyearls when I started writing Tiger Eyes and Dragon Teeth as a teenager (1998). The above image is a Photoshopped version of a DALLE AI-generated image. It did a pretty good job. I also like to use Neural.love for AI image generation. 

Here's the text I just input on Neural.love to try to generate an image:

A skyearl is a dragon with feathers and fur. It is like a colourful hybrid between a griffin and a pegasus. It has four lion-like paws, purple and blue fur, a horse-like head with sharp golden teeth. It's feathered wings spread wide as it spurts out clouds in its wake to help it take flight. 

Here's the best image it generated:

It's not quite right so I did some basic/quick fixing in Photoshop to create this (after about an hour of stuffing around):

Still, the best skyearl I have is the one made by the human artist, Adele Sessler, for me for the cover art of Strike of the Skyearls:

And here are some excerpts from my novel describing the skyearls and what they are all about:

Book 1: Tiger Eyes and Dragon Teeth page 67

The Jarian and Lythian tribes were Rada—with animal-kin. The Tanzans were Sleffions—with skyearl-kin. The Watercragans were Tolites—with weapon-kin. The Anzaii had a focus-item containing parts of a sapphire tree leaf, which made the object sentient. There was no particular Kriite tribe of Anzaii; as they were so rare they tended to appear in any of them occasionally.

Book 1: Tiger Eyes and Dragon Teeth page 97

Anzaii—Guiding Light. The plaque on the statue we passed was worn with time. It was an immense carving of green stone. A human figure stood in the centre with one arm outstretched to the heavens. The other hand clutched a long spear. At the figure’s feet was a snarling dire wolf. Behind him was the huge coiled body of a skyearl. Covered in fur and feathers, skyearls were sentient dragon-like beings that bonded with a Kriite to become their Sleffion-kin.

Vines and creepers had to be cut back regularly to keep the statue from being swallowed whole by the forest. The base of the statue was scuffed and worn by clambering feet.

Book 1: Tiger Eyes and Dragon Teeth page 134

Rundo screwed up the corner of his mouth and glanced irritably at Bessed. ‘We do not yet know if he is cut out for leadership.’

‘What does the pilgrimage entail?’ I asked cautiously.

‘To find out if you are a Tolite or a Sleffion as well you must go to Watercrag and Tanza,’ Namal answered.

I wondered who would finance such a long journey—from one end of the map to the other—especially given Jaria’s current state.

‘It’s simple.’ Rundo misread my lack of response as incomprehension. ‘You go to Tanza to find out if you have a skyearl companion and then on to Watercrag to attempt a weapon bond.’

‘If you manage both,’ Bessed added, ‘you will be Anzaii, Sleffion, Tolite and Rada, the most powerful psion a Kriite can be.’

‘Are there any?’ I asked, trying to quash my excitement.

‘Not that we know of,’ Namal answered, ‘but we are somewhat out of contact with the Watercragans at the moment.’

‘You can understand why we need to know,’ Curn said. ‘There is a far greater advantage to having a fully fledged psion in our ranks, as opposed to an Anzaii Rada, especially now.’

Book 2: Strike of the Skyearls pages 26-28

Much later a shadow passed over me in the afternoon sunlight. I looked up and could just make out a flying shape in the clouds. Beyond the clouds the sky shimmered and undulated with a strange, unnatural glow as if a mantle had been spread right over it from horizon to horizon. The barrier was visible up there, in places. The flying shape grew larger as it descended, reminding me of the crag hawk that had once nearly killed me. For some reason I wasn’t frightened, but I stood up when I realised the shape was heading straight for me.

I bit my tongue in shock as a skyearl of phenomenal size landed beside me with a thump. Its thickly padded paws left footprints the size of a barrel. Its neck arched backwards so that the lizard-shaped muzzle rested majestically on a muscular chest, which was thickly furred. Its head was the size of an entire horse and had a similar shape to a horse’s head as well. It was covered in rope-like fur that ranged from all shades of amethyst purple to sapphire blue and emerald green.

Its golden nose was tipped with three shiny domes. Large purple-ivory horns poked out of the ruff along his brawny neck. Two arm-length horns adorned the outline of each cheek bone, mere decorations when compared with the immense triplet of purple claws on his four lion-like feet.

The rest of his body was covered with glossy fur except the wings, which were feathered. The colours and patterns on the feathers were so beautiful—they appeared to shimmer from blue to purple to green. In this posture, the top curve of his wings touched the back of his neck and fell from there like a waterfall. His muscled tail, which was thicker than the trunk of a cedar tree, curled regally around his powerfully built hind legs.

More chimera than dragon, the skyearl seemed made of lizard, lion, eagle and horse. He regarded me with a calculating, golden eye. The pupil was shaped like a bird in flight. I stood there mystified by his size and magnificence, but unafraid. Knowing he was an animal with intelligence to rival my own, I had no fear, only awe.

He cocked his head and I sensed the locks on my wave-link being pried gently open. Suddenly the skyearl broke through and a tide of knowledge rushed into my mind. My legs went slack and the skyearl’s clawed hand caught me as I fell, and held me until I stopped shaking. The shovel-sized claws protruded on either side of my body, cupping me dexterously between two fingers.

The creature’s memories were like a window upon the world of skyearls. I had not imagined until now that there was so much more to know. This skyearl had been alive for nearly three centuries—waiting for me! The realisation that I truly was going to be a master psion now filled me with such emotion that tears streamed from my eyes. My soul was so full of intense emotions and new information that my grief melded into my elation and brought me to a place of complete humility.

Who was I to have been spared Jaria’s fate? Who was I to be here in this place with these people and these miraculous gifts? I wondered if I would be ready when my time came to really use my psionic abilities against the Zeikas. How would I—a lowly hunter-gatherer from a tribe that had been wiped from the face of Chryne—stand up to the most powerful sorcerers the world had ever known? If the people of Tanza hadn’t been able to defeat the Zeikas, how would I help the Kriites, even if I was a master psion?