|the aftermath series: The Web
Author: blackbite10 PM
This story follows three different birds whom each deal with tragedy in their own ways and whose paths are destined to cross.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Fantasy - Chapters: 9 - Words: 14,399 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 09-17-12 - Published: 02-13-12 - id: 7832529
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
THE AFTERMATH SERIES
The First Encounter
It was was a beautiful sunny day in Tyto forest. The air was thick and humid and to the sharpened senses of an owl, rang with thousands of sounds from small animals scurrying through the undergrowth to the bugs lazily flitting through the trees. A small unusual group of owls flew for the south western border near Kuneer. These owls in particular were unusual in that they were bards, three of the four bards in fact in all of the owl kingdoms aside from Madam Plonk of the Great Ga'hoole tree. They originated in a small valley in the Carteesean Mountains that ran along the eastern side of the owl kingdoms, and were the first to leave it in over five hundred years.
It was now ten years after what was now known as the war of purity. King Coryn was still ruling and the owl kingdoms had seen relative peace except the Maldors war in which the kingdoms of Shadow forest, Silverveil, Ambala and Tyto forest had come under the rule of there current respected governing bodies. Much had changed in the owl kingdoms in the last ten years, but back to those three strange owls that were, even now nearing the boarder.
"How much further?" the large female screech owl asked her mate Byard, whom was flying beside her. Polean was a Pleasantly plump middle aged screech owl with a soft voice, and a heart to match. Her feathers were a creamy shade of brown and her ear tufts were relatively small in comparison with others of her species.
"Not much further." Byard assured "if the weather allows, we should get there before dusk." He answered while glancing at the darkening skies ahead. Byard was almost the opposite of his mate. He was impatient with things and would prefer to do things quickly even before thinking through them completely. He had a strong comanding voice and eyes that could look strait through you. His feathers were dark and his ear tufts were strongly accented giving him an almost angry appearance.
Their son, Stirn, remained silent as he flew just behind them. Stirn, was an odd combination of his parents. He had the same fierce features of his father, but was rather small for a screech owl and rarely prone to anger. Preferring to think before making a decision.
He was thinking now of his parents and their strange personal mission. You see, Byard and Polean believed that all the problems in the world were because of the lack of music in it and that bringing music to all of the owl kingdoms would bring with it peace and prosperity. His father carried his hand carved felurid that looks like a lute but with a more resonating sound. His mother carried and odd assortment of flat metal discs and animal skin covered lopes tied together with mouse leather straps. And a short thick stick in her other talon with skin pulled over it. (That was one of the main changes in the owl kingdoms. Now owls rarely ate the skins of their prey and instead brought the whole skin to an owl who could turn it into leather in exchange for already made leather which was used in everything from armour to shutting a hollow off from the elements. Polean would use the stick to hit the objects in a rhythm that invigorated those whom listened.
Stirn carried an odd completely blank, old book that Polean said she found in a hidden cave back in the valley and was planning to write their songs in it. However she hadn't had the time to write any songs in it yet so it remained just as blank as when it had first been found. Stirn was almost a yearling now and was only staying with his parents because Polean had asked him to help them in their quest, you see Stirn had a very odd skill in that he could and did sing in any genera of music and it would sound good. His voice changing with the feel of the song from sad and slow and deep to fast and pepy and sharp. His father had even been showing him how to use the felurid but Stirn had yet to really get the hang of it.
"Hang on." said Byard as he stopped mid flight and cocked his head to one side as if he were listening intently for a small noise which coincidentally he was.
"What is it?" Whispered Polean
"It almost sounds like iron scraping together" spoke Byard with a confused look on his face as he flew forward a bit and peeked through the tree in front of him. Before him was a small clearing and on the other side, a large ga'hoole tree with a group of six large birds resting in it. They seemed to be talking quietly to themselves. The alarming thing about them was that four of them were armed with large battle claws; one of the other two was holding a metal version of an ice scimitar and the last and smallest, a flinger. The flinger was a new and simple weapon consisting of a long thin piece of mouse leather strung between two claws. The wielder also carried a sack of sharpened rocks that were pulled back in the flinger and launched at foes causing severe pain and removing or damaging the feathers or eyes of the foe or, if sharp enough, even cutting into the flesh of the target. The birds were also wearing the same grey iron helms and a triangle of plated metal that went down their backs. Each had a pair of large black talons painted on them and had large trailing black rags hanging from their armour. Curiously enough none of them were owls.
"Soldiers." Byard muttered in surprise.
"What? here?" Polean and Stirn said equally as surprised.
"Stirn you stay here and watch our instruments, me and your mother will go speak to them.
"Why!" Polean asked with a fritghtened look "they could be dangerous!"
"I don't think so." Byard said slowly, "No army attacks civilians and if there is any conflict in Kuneer I would like to know before we stumble into it." In the valley they held a tradition of honour where no soldier ever harmed a unarmed civilian, those who did were dealt with harshly. A tradition that they believed existed in the rest of the owl kingdoms as well.
"Then why do we both have to go?" Asked Polean with concern
"Because you're good at talking to others and I can look…..intimidating." Byard replied with a look that showed that no further arguing could change his mind.
Polean sighed and regretfully followed Byard into the clearing while Stirn rested on one of the branches with their things out of sight of the strange birds. As soon as Polean and Byard entered the clearing all the birds turned and glared at them.
"Greetings!" spoke Polean in a cheerful voice that hid her fears well "May I please take a moment of your time?"
Before either of them could react the birds circled them and the leader spoke.
"Who are you trying to fool?" he spat at them. Byard thought he might be an eagle of some kind but it was difficult to tell under the armour and paint. He had a thick accent and a rough voice and smelt of filth.
"uhhh..." Polean stuttered "No...nu...nothing..." as a look of fear came to her face.
Byard was trying his best to look intimidating and keep himself between the birds and his mate but it seemed to have no effect.
"You owls sicken me, comeing here and acting innocent like we don't know what you are!" the leader spoke calmly as he lifts his blade. "Well I have news for you!" "Your horrid lives shall end here!" his voice turning into a battle cry. Polean turned and tried to flee in terror but was stopped by the two behind her. In a rage Byard lunged at the leader but he was faster and was met by the searing pain of steel through his left lung. One bird tore into Poleans back while another slashed her from groin to throat spilling her entrails into the air. the others stabbed at her as she fell and what hit the ground looked nothing like what had entered the clearing just a short time ago. Byards body slowly slid from the sword and he let out a final wheezing gasp, fell, and died before he hit the ground.
They lingered there for awhile before leaving. No one noticed the small owls face fixed in shock across the clearing. Stirn would have the image of his father's blood staining the ground and his mothers entrails spread across the clearing burned into his memory.
Never to forget.
If you haven't noticed this story is only the first chapter. If you like/don't like it feel free to post your thoughts and thanks for reading my first story.
Guardians of Ga'hoole and its associated content are not mine and I don't claim to own it.