I uplifted slowly, watching the world below me grow smaller. The other hooted and cheered me on, among them my brother, mother, and father. They didn't seem to be as happy, but showed their delight that I could know fly on my own and train like my older brother. It was hard making my feather do what I wanted them to do, but soon, being more than ten feet from the ground, it was all gizzard and instinct.
It wasn't branching, but rather a practice of straining yourself into the sky, and gliding down smoothly and landing softly. And I had done it- but I wanted to see the true happiness on their faces. I flew over them, plunging into a brush and extending my talons. No more mouse problems. The creature was killed as my claws instantly dug into it's soft flesh and bled it from the inside out. I came in, back winging with effort and touching the ground in a salute to my mother and father.
That, was the first time my father was proud of me.
"Good job little one," my mom stroked me. "but for next time, try a little quieter will you?"
"No,...that was exemplary. It was just about perfect. A First Flight and First Kill all in one. Why, I haven't seen it better executed since his brother." my father commented. I puffed out my chest boldly.
"Pssh, that was luck," my brother scoffed. I pushed him aside, despite my smaller, younger size, and knocked him down. We began an all-out sibling rivalry fight in front of our parents.
"Put it down you two. Isn't it time for the next ceremony?" I flapped my wings and cheered.
"Yeah, it's your Tupsi ceremony!" We made our way to the great hall and sat. My brother went and brought forth a slightly older owl, only days from my brothers age. Fithmore was his name.
"Ahh, your great uncle. Magnificent choice my son." I myself didn't know this owl, but somehow, every other owl did. I didn't feel pain when my brother rushed him and sliced open his stomach and ripped his gizzard from his insides. The owl dropped and made a puddle of blood around him.
"Da, why do we do this exactly?" I looked up at my father.
"Because of those wicked owls- The Guardians they call 'em." he replied. "They don't understand the first thing about their own selves. Us- Tytos- are greater than any other species in the world. They, they have many owls- Burrowing, Elves, Spotted-, all insignificant compared to our dominant blood. Then, they attack, taking away tons of great warriors devoted to a better kingdom. The one they call Lyze of Kiel, he lead them. He did this. I will get him, I will show the rest of them what pure ones can do." I wilfed for a moment. There were tons of them, there had to be a lot to take down our total of owls.
"Don't be scared. Remember, fright is a disease condemned to the lower species. And do you know why it's them and not us?"
"Because we, are, Tytos. We are Pure Ones."
All I ever wanted was to seem like a jewel in their eyes. But, following the ceremony for my brother, he had to leave. Guardians were scouting, and he was chosen to lead a small group to recruit and build a fort in the Shadow Forest. I found the night he left a curse- he left without a good-bye. Maybe he was too sad or depressed, or maybe he was in a hurry and forgot. I don't know. I don't know what I do is right, I just do it. Either way, I'm not sure about what they say. The Guardians of Ga'hoole are noble owls with great honor and true hearts, so why would they attack us for no reason? I don't know.
Grimble was there at my hatching. He hasn't ever told a lie and everything he's foretold so far has come to be. I love him like another father. But then, he told me dangerous information one night. Information on the Guardians- forbidden. I still listened. And though the cycles of fire he never got to finish through his shifts, they taught me a lot. I think I became more stuck to him than the rest of my family. In time, things began to come back, or return, to the way it used to be. One day, my father brought me in to see on of his many slipgizzles. Allomere, the search and rescue instructor from the Great Tree, a fine way to be hidden when you're apart of the Parliament itself. When he left, my father told me to help the owls with the incoming owlets.
"Hey, Grimble. Find anything?" I flew to his starboard side.
"A hard worker for the Pickers. A nice, young Elf owl. Quite the chatterbox,"
"She'd best control that." Once, when I kept asking questions and wouldn't shut-up, my mum gave me a taste of laughter therapy- she plucked out some of my good feathers, I couldn't fly right for a month. We took off to the sort the owlets. Tytos = not a lot. Other owls = too many. We almost had to put a Snowy and a Horned with the Barn owls, but thankfully, another came in just in time.
"Ya see that one there," Grimble pointed at the hatchling. "keep your eye on 'em. Sometimes, they have too much Ga and can't control it." I nodded. The owl was put on the Pickers team when he stood for the little Elf owl. Nevertheless, he was given a number and they began the sleep march. Tons of names dimmed as the numbers replaced them. But, surprisingly, the two managed to block the rays of the moon on their gizzard. I told Grimble, making his amber eyes flash for the first time in a while.
"I'll talk to 'em. But, you have to cover me." I told him. The next morning, while they ate, I pulled them aside. Yes, they pretended to be the best moon blinked owls they knew how to be, but I already knew. I led them to a crease in the walls- in which I could barely fit anymore- and brought them to Grimble's small estate. There were books and mouse pelts on the floor. Grimble came in as I finished pulling my tail from a fold.
"Okay, owlets. How?" I got straight to the point. Grimble swiped me and stepped forward.
"The name's Grimble."
"I'm, ahh, number 12-1." he faked.
"No, your true name owlet. I'm not them, trust me."
"I'm Soren."
"I'm Gylfie." the Elf owl said. They turned to me.
"Oh, hi, I'm Strife." I said proudly.
"You're a huge owl. What species are you?" Soren asked.
" Well, my father had a grandfather who mated with an eagle, and then their son decided to keep to his own species. My da is big too. But also, my mum was the offspring of some large owl somewhere a time ago... but anyway, I am practically a Barn owl." Back on topis. "How are you surviving the the march? I haven't seen any owls so far to do it,"
"Well,uhh, we have been reciting the Tales of Yore in our heads as we sleep." I blinked. My gizzard flinched. I didn't know whether to follow my father's orders, or the legends Grimble spoke of. I felt my hatred of the Guardians enter my heart and blacken my eyes completely. Grimble must've noticed. He pulled me aside.
"What's wrong with you lad? Cat got your tongue?"
"Its the Guardians. I know, you tell me of the legends every night, but, Da says they're evil, and really bad."
"I've told you, they haven't done anything that wrong, besides, the entire army has been rebuilt, and the forts have been executing brilliantly. Don't fret, little owl." We came back.
"Okay owlets. Every day, you have pretended to be moon blinked, and have done a good job, but it's gonna tke more than that to get out of the canyon lands." They jumped.
"But we're only hatchlings, we can't fly Grimble." Gylfie said.
"Then we're gonna have to wait til your feather bulge. After a couple moons, me and Strife here will help you learn to fly." Smiles crawled on their faces. I highly doubted this plan would work, and they would have to make the nights with bats everywhere, flecks controlling their gizzards. I shrugged. They're gonna have to learn the hard way, huh? Okay then...