A/N: This story deviates from the actual events in the series, as it is purely exploratory in nature. This is my take on what would happen if two of the main characters were captured near the end of the Burning.
There is plenty of graphic content ahead. If you do not feel comfortable reading such subject matter, turn back now. This is your final warning, so proceed at your own discretion.
Nyra and Stryker escorted Soren and Gylfie to an unused room in the northwest corner of the castle. He prodded them into the stone chamber while she stood guard at the entryway.
Her obedient lieutenant bound the former by his wings to metal shackles embedded in the wall with lengths of tough vine. He then bound the latter to the base of a crumbling pillar with yet more vine.
"That should hold them, General Ma'am."
"Your help is greatly appreciated, Stryker."
"Serving you is the highest honor."
"You are to patrol the passage regularly. If they somehow escape, apprehend them using non-lethal means and alert me right away."
"I will gladly do as Her Pureness wishes."
"Excellent. You are relieved of all duties for tonight, Stryker."
He bowed and ambled out of the room.
"As for you two, welcome to hagsmire, for I am your worst daymare."
She shut the wooden door behind her with unnecessary force.
Over the course of the next moon, Nyra destroyed Soren's spirit via a combination of starvation and torture.
She gave him no nourishment for seven nights to sap his physical strength. Once per week thereafter she provided him a single mouse and just enough water to quench his thirst.
Those donations sufficed to keep him alive but did not replenish his fortitude.
Up to three times a night, she would lacerate his skin in a completely random location, stripping out feathers in the process. By the end of the third week, dozens of naked wounds old and new covered him from head to tail.
They were kept clean by one of Nyra's subordinates to prevent a fatal infection from developing.
Soren came down with a dire case of the gollymopes, the owl term for severe emotional duress.
Nyra's meager rations affected Gylfie's physical condition to a much lesser extent. The Tyto tortured her instead with belittling remarks about her small stature and frailty.
Gylfie repeatedly demanded to know exactly why they were being held against their will. Nyra refused to justify her decisions to that irritating and feckless elf owl.
On the 32nd night of their imprisonment, however, the prime reason behind their capture would be revealed. Nyra paid Soren a visit to stuff a cold mouse into his beak.
She strolled right past Gylfie in both directions without acknowledging her.
"Aren't you supposed to bring me some water to drink?"
Nyra halted at the door, glancing over her shoulder.
"Why don't you get it yourself? My apologies, I suddenly remembered that you can't," she sneered. "If you shut your beak I might reconsider. If not, I just might rip your tongue out."
Gylfie puffed out her feathers in irritation. Her display did not faze the ivory Tyto in the slightest.
"Go to hagsmire, you fiend!"
Nyra chuckled in amusement.
"Where else would I have come from?" she responded arrogantly. "I will return later. I suggest you prepare yourself, Soren, for that is when I shall make you my slave."
The evil beauty flashed a nefarious grin and slipped out of sight. An hour before the dawn broke, Nyra reappeared as promised.
What in Glaux's name do you want? Gylfie thought to herself, opting not to provoke her by saying it out loud.
"We are more similar than you'd like to believe," Nyra began.
No, we are nothing like you!
"How so, you ask? It is quite clear that we are all victims of prejudice. The Guardians' corrupt sense of justice has stolen so much from me. For example…"
She poignantly cleared her throat. Her plumage stood on end, enlarging her apparent size.
"That loudmouth great gray killed my Kludd. Furthermore, your heartless sister shattered the egg containing my unhatched child! Their murders were condoned by your allies!"
She exhaled a flustered sigh and closed her eyes momentarily. Her angry countenance disappeared as she regained her composure.
"I cannot reverse their untimely deaths. But since you are my captive, there is an alternative solution I can pursue…"
Nyra approached Soren and ran one of her port talons along the rim of his facial disk.
"You no doubt share some of your late brother's characteristics, excluding your preference for pathetic morals that regulate your behavior. You are too indoctrinated by the Guardian code to be a Pure One. Nonetheless, you are still capable of fulfilling a much simpler, more natural purpose…"
Her talon traveled down his breast and midsection to the end of his tail.
"The Time of the Silver Rain is upon us. You will surrender to me tonight and grant me offspring…"
Soren gasped as his gizzard contorted painfully.
"No… you wouldn't dare…" he muttered, his tone laced with dread.
"Haven't you realized that I will stop at nothing to satisfy my desires? You are in no position to deny me."
She stepped over him, straddling his lower body.
Panic gripped his mind and he strained against the vines securing him to the wall.
He depleted his meager reserves of stamina in seconds and stopped struggling. Even his regular strength would've been insufficient to snap them.
"I insist that you relax. Otherwise, our union won't be enjoyable for either of us."
She flexed her legs at their ankle joints and sank down onto him. She wasn't properly aligned so she repositioned herself.
A jolt of electricity raced up the restrained male's spine as her cloaca contacted his. A significant portion of her body weight was concentrated in that one spot, compressing their vents together and ensuring a tight seal.
Her hot, slightly moist opening applied steady downward pressure, thereby maximizing the puissance of every sensation. Nyra rocked her pelvis forward, then backward, in one fluid motion.
"Ahh yes… you feel quite nice, just like your brother…"
A rush of pleasure flooded Soren's mind, wonderful and revolting simultaneously.
"No… stop… this is madness…" Gylfie whimpered.
"Quiet, diminutive pest! Rude interruptions are not welcome."
Digging her talons into the substrate for stability, Nyra began gliding her pelvis back and forth in a cyclical rhythm.
"To be honest… I never imagined… I would make love to you… brother of Kludd. Desperate times… call for desperate measures…"
"Please… spare my purity… I beg you…"
Waves of delirium rippled throughout his body like a crashing tide. It felt so incredibly good and yet so nauseatingly awful.
The conflicting sensations instigated a collapse of his conscious mental processes.
The shameless way in which Nyra was violating him essentially caused him to go yeep. He simply lay there while she worked her carnal magic.
"You must… stop… this is beyond…"
Unable to stomach the sight any longer, Gylfie fainted and slumped over. The vines that bound her to the pillar went taut.
The unrelenting stimulation of his sensitive cloaca pushed him inexorably towards the brink.
"Unh… I can't take it… please… let me go…"
Soren's traumatized vocalizations echoed within the chamber several times.
"I can sense your self-control fading. Just give in to the bliss…"
One punishing minute later, the pent-up sexual tension in Soren's body yearned for release. Nyra performed one final vigorous pelvic thrust and sent him plummeting into the abyss of ecstasy.
His body quivered as the sexual eruption ran its course. His seed shot into her in several spurts, coating the inner walls of her reproductive tract.
Nyra, too, shuddered in utter delight. Prohibiting himself from calling out her name cost Soren every ounce of his tattered will.
The eruption ceased as rapidly as it began. It had elevated both his heart and respiration rate, leaving him exhausted.
Nyra stood and caught her breath. A sizable patch of feathers between her legs was damp and matted.
His plumage was similarly wet and disheveled.
"My my, you are quite a fertile male. Perhaps your gift will lead to the formation of more than one egg."
Soren was at a loss to formulate a proper response to her statement. Resting his heavy head on the ground, he shut his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.
"Hmph, your endurance is inferior to Kludd's. No matter, you have met my expectations."
Nyra strolled over to Gylfie and nudged the elf owl's flank. She did not wake.
"Insignificant and weak-minded, as is typical of your kind."
Nyra dried and patted down her plumage and exited the chamber. Her most important mission was complete, but her duties as a general were never in short supply.
"Stryker! Come here, I have a job for you…"
Silence as thick as mud dominated the holding cell from that point on.
Gylfie came to with a start; an hour later he regained consciousness.
Stricken with grief, she muttered, "Soren I… I don't know what to say…"
"As if mere words… could cure my sorrow…"
"I'm so sorry… I should be the one… lying there…" she said, sniffling.
The forlorn Tyto cried himself to sleep beneath the invisible moon.
Nyra materialized very late the following night and presented each of them a mutilated mouse. She summoned two lieutenants and instructed them to swap the positions of her detainees.
When the exchange was finished, she sternly ordered her underlings to return to their assigned posts. They vacated the space at once.
Setting her sights on Soren, Nyra disregarded his personal space bubble and engaged in a bout of tantalizing foreplay. She spent a good ten minutes tickling his flesh with her beak and caressing him using her wings.
She then tucked herself into the space between him and the pillar. Next, she assumed a seated position so that her rump was flat against the floor.
Gingerly she wrapped her wings around Soren and pulled him close. Her breast molded neatly to the contour of his spine.
"Being this close to me unnerves you? What a shame. Perhaps this will lighten your mood…"
She ran the end of her starboard wing's longest primary through her beak, coating it with a layer of saliva. Resting said wing on her alternate appendage, she stroked his cloacal rim in a circular fashion.
His muscles spasmed, causing his back to briefly arch.
"Why… why must you… do this to me?"
"Such an irrational question does not merit an answer."
A gentle nudge drove the feather's rounded end past the orifice's rim. The repetitive in/out movement of the lubricated feather afflicted Soren with anguished delectation.
The sensual penetration lasted for two minutes, but felt like two hours to Soren. Nyra withdrew her wing and bent his tail upward at an uncomfortable angle.
She casually brought their secret flowers into perfect alignment. Gluing her wings to his hip joints, she manipulated his lower body as she pleased.
The grinding of his vent across hers shot a geyser of unwanted bliss into his being.
"Someone… wake me… unh… save me… ohh Glaux…"
"Your deity… mmm… has no power here. You belong… ahh… to me."
Gylfie turned away, blocking out the sight but not the sounds. Her friend's drawn-out moans rendered her sobs unnoticeable.
Soren staved off the inevitable for only half as long as he had the previous night. The euphoric release was far too potent to contain.
Had his eyes not been fixed in their sockets, they would've rolled back in his head as he injected his seed into her.
The moment she peeled their bodies apart, he collapsed against the spire of rock. Nyra's sinful deed had reduced him to a pile of messy feathers.
"You have my deepest gratitude, brother of Kludd. None but you could provide me with a blessing as meaningful as owlets. Oh, how eager I am to witness their hatching."
From then on Nyra was in exceptionally high spirits. Her interactions with Soren pleased her nearly as much as her relationship with Kludd.
Her former mate was irreplaceable, but his brother was a permissible substitute.
She had no further use for them and they were evicted on the 34th night.
Nyra and Stryker dragged them to the castle's main entrance and threw them unceremoniously out of it. Kicking up clouds of dirt when they landed, the pair broke out into coughing fits.
"This won't be the the last time we cross paths. Now leave this place and fly back to your Guardian comrades. I'm sure they would love to hear the details of your imprisonment. The real question is: do you have the courage to tell them?"
She laughed maniacally and faded into the shadows.
Bruised and battered externally and shattered internally, Soren barely scrounged up the willpower to fly.
If it weren't for Gylfie's companionship and support, he most likely would have put himself out of his own misery. But he clung to life, more for her sake than his own.
He hardly spoke at all, deliberately resigning himself to silence.
It took seven nights for them to traverse the Southern Kingdoms and arrive at the island of Hoole.
Their unforeseen return was at first met with tearful celebration, but shock and horror resonated throughout the Great Tree when Gylfie revealed the circumstances of their capture.
She did not, however, mention anything related to the travesties her best friend endured.
Soren's terrible condition meant he was forced to spend an entire moon in the infirmary.
The first half was dedicated to the repair of his numerous wounds, while the second half was dedicated to the replenishment of his body weight and strength.
Ultimately, the visible wounds healed and his feathers grew back. Those marring his soul, however, were beyond the capabilities of time and altruism to mend.
Resuming Guardian training infused a decent amount of contentment into his existence. It made harboring his unspeakable secrets bearable at least.
He had changed on a fundamental level; any hope of restoring his former personality was lost. Nonetheless he persevered, honing his skills as a collier and a warrior.
Perhaps, one day, he would face Nyra in single combat and make her suffer to the extent that he had. As sadistic of a concept it was, nothing else would grant him consolation.
As a reward for his tenacity, Glaux brought Pellimore into his life. Soren was instantly smitten with the lovely female Tyto.
She was the embodiment of everything Nyra was not: compassionate, empathetic and mellow, not to mention romantic. When their mutual attraction had intensified to an irreversible degree, Soren revealed to her the atrocities Nyra committed at his expense.
His gut-wrenching confession succeeded in deepening her love for him.
Pellimore endeavored to prove that she, unlike the Pure One's demented leader, was worth being faithful to.
Eventually they bound their souls together in the most intimate way. In the wake of their triplet daughters' creation, Soren found himself basking in serenity.
Boron and Barran passed on and were replaced by the embered king Coryn, Nyra's estranged son by Kludd.
Soren thought it best that his nephew not know how Nyra had taken advantage of him. Planting a grudge in Coryn's gizzard was hardly wise or courteous.
Alas, the serenity was not meant to last.
The simmering conflict between Nyra's legions and the Guardians escalated with each passing moon.
At first they clashed in the newly-discovered realm known as the Middle Kingdom. Soren and Coryn survived the slink melf spearheaded by his mother, yet she escaped.
Back in the Southern Kingdoms, she established an alliance with a dragon owl named the Striga, whose forces infiltrated the Great Tree and almost seized control of it.
The conflict came to a head in the land of the wolf clans. Both armies congregated there en masse to settle the score; it would be the darkest, bloodiest night the owl world had ever witnessed.
As sunrise drew near, the climactic final engagement of the long-standing Pure One/Guardian feud broke out in the skies of the Beyond.
Soren, flanked by Pellimore and Gylfie, flew headlong into the fray. Rather than engaging one of the countless Pure Ones rushing around, he charged straight towards the core of the fighting.
Bewildered, they struggled to keep pace with him. Constantly having to dodge attacks from enemy owls slowed them down.
"Soren, wait! What are you doing?!" Gylfie yelled.
"Hunting down Nyra! This is my chance for revenge!"
"No, you can't! It's too dangerous!" Pelli protested.
"I will tear her to pieces if it is the last thing I do!" he screeched.
"It's no use, he can't be reasoned with. His lust for blood is too powerful an urge!"
"Then we must do all we can to protect him, Gylfie. Come on!"
They attempted to catch up but the gap in the fighting he slipped through sealed shut. They were walled off and prevented from continuing.
Soren quickly vanished, lost in a sea of hundreds of sparring owls. Pelli screamed in frustration and wheeled around, attempting to find another way through.
Gylfie banked hard and took off after the angry Tyto.
Two Pure Ones, a masked owl and a sooty owl, advanced on them. They had no choice but to fight or be struck down.
Meanwhile, Soren flew across the battlefield at high speed, scanning feverishly for Nyra's unmistakable form. There were so many owls clashing and so much noise that it was difficult to focus and single her out from the horde.
Soren's eyes glowed as red as those of a Pure One, illuminated from within by the fires of vengeance.
Out of the blue, a powerful blow to his upper back sent him reeling. He managed to recover and glanced around, trying desperately to spot whoever had hit him.
Just as he searched the sky overhead, his sword was wrenched painfully from his grasp.
He cast his gaze forward and laid eyes on his aggressor, a female Tyto of his own species. She, too, wore a set of battle claws that appeared to be as sharp as his, if not sharper.
"Give that back, filthy Pure One!"
"Make me, filthy Guardian!"
He closed the distance and swiped at her. She dodged and gripped the sword by the blade, ramming its hilt into Soren's gut.
He staggered and she seized the opportunity to land another blow. Swinging it like a mace, she struck him in between his eyes with the end of the guard.
The impact cracked his skull and induced a state of temporary paralysis.
He went yeep and tumbled out of the sky, unable to stabilize himself. He slammed into the ground spine-first and the wind was knocked out of him.
Blood trickled from his head wound, staining his ivory feathers crimson.
The Pure One landed beside him and stabbed the blade into the earth.
Waves of throbbing pain radiated throughout Soren's body. Oxygen deprivation worsened the situation further.
Gasping for breath, he struggled to stand but failed, collapsing and falling flat on his back.
The female walked closer and stood over him, planting one foot on his starboard leg and the other on his tail.
"Who… who are you?" he stammered incredulously.
"You don't recognize me? Are all Guardians this lacking in intelligence?"
She leaned forward in an intimidating fashion.
Her facial disk was wide and pristine, like a full moon. Adorning the fringe of feathers composing its rim was a speckled pattern strangely similar to his.
The revelation hit Soren with the force of a meteor. He did not want to believe it, and yet the living proof was right there in front of him.
"No… oh Glaux please no… it can't be…"
She affected a devious smile and bored into him with her red-tinted eyes.
"Nyra is my glorious mother, and you are my father."
Soren's gizzard churned and he thought he might vomit.
"Though you are a fool and a traitor, I must thank you for playing a part in my conception."
As if to compound the crushing weight of her confession, the Pure Ones' diabolical queen touched down next to her daughter.
"If it isn't my old flame, the Guardian named Soren. How heroic of you to show up here."
The malice in her tone could not be more evident.
"I fought and subdued him just as you asked, mother. Doing so was much simpler than I expected."
Nyra stroked her head in a gesture of praise.
"You were always a particularly ruthless Tyto. It is no mystery who you inherited your savage nature from."
"You have taught me well, mother."
"That I have, dear daughter."
Nyra locked eyes with her victim and took a few steps toward him.
"I was lenient before, but you no longer deserve a shred of mercy. With your demise, I will be that much closer to routing your precious Guardians. I shall rule the Southern Kingdoms, and all owls shall bow to me. Those who do not shall be destroyed."
"Someone, anyone, help me! Hel-"
Nyra clamped her metal claws around his throat, silencing and suffocating him simultaneously.
"If any of your comrades attempt to free you, they will meet a grisly end by my talons, I assure you."
Soren thrashed around to no avail; Nyra's grip was unbreakable. The color drained from his vision the numbing pit of unconsciousness threatened to engulf him.
"Soren! We're coming to help!" shouted an all-too-recognizable voice.
Nyra pulled away and air rushed into his breast, though he was unable to speak. An ivory blur aimed at the large moon-faced Tyto and a smaller, round figure targeted her daughter.
"You dare attempt to rescue him? You will both pay dearly for your insolence!"
Pellimore! Gylfie! You must retreat! Nyra will not hesitate to…
Soren's exclamation was heard by no one but himself.
Nyra crouched as Pelli came barreling towards her. She yanked the sword from the ground,thrusting it upward as the enraged Tyto skimmed by overhead.
The tip of the blade bit into Pelli's flesh and, owing to her momentum, cut through it with ease. Sliced open from her wing joint to her hip joint, Pelli shrieked and crashed to the dirt, skidding to a stop.
She lapsed into sickening convulsions, her feathers soaking in the rapidly-expanding pool of blood that formed beneath her.
"Pellimore, no!"
Nyra then whirled around and performed a leaping lunge, snatching Gylfie out of the air. She spun the rest of the way around and crushed her against the substrate, pinning her down by her tail.
Extending her middle talon, she stabbed the elf owl and slashed her belly open.
"Augh! Soren I… unh… don't want to-"
"Go to hagsmire where you belong!"
Nyra tore out her internal organs akin to how an owl pulled moss out from beneath a stone.
She went limp seconds after being brutally disemboweled, consuming her final breath to emit a hollow moan. Her head fell back and her lusterless eyes stared blankly at Soren.
He immediately went yeep a second time, unable to move or speak, only hear.
Pellimore… Gylfie… gone forever… and I will soon… share their fate…
"I am not to be trifled with. No owl, Tyto or otherwise, shall challenge me and live."
Nyra let Gylfie's mutilated organs slide through her talons and kicked the elf owl's still-warm corpse away.
She met her daughter's gaze and issued a simple command: "Kill him."
"With pleasure, mother."
She extracted her starboard talons from her battle claws and raised them to breast height, poised to strike. As she splayed her individual toes, the light of the moon and the glow of flaming branches wielded by the Guardians reflected off their smooth surfaces.
Curved and cruel, they were the agents of Soren's imminent and gruesome demise.
"Glaux… help me… please…"
Soren did not want to perish, and yet he did not want to live.
He had suffered so much, his mate and closest companion were dead, and he had failed to uphold the Oath.
"This can't be real… it must be a terrible dream…"
Even if the Guardians are victorious… we won't be around… to celebrate with them. They will live on… while I will become… nothing but a memory…
"Let this be your final lesson, Soren the traitor. This is my realm now. Neither you, or the remaining Guardians, shall poison it with your presence."
Nyra dipped her head ever-so-slightly.
Her daughter nodded and glared malevolently at him.
"I figured I should reveal my identity before I execute you."
She drew a steadying breath and tensed her leg muscles.
"My name is Amaya, and I am your worst daymare."
Those were the exact words Nyra used all those moons ago…
She thrust her bare talons into his breast and ripped out his heart. It pulsed against the naked skin of her foot in an oh-so-thrilling fashion.
Hot jets of scarlet blood splattered the night. Beneath the crimson sky, Soren's existence came to a tragic end.