Chapter One

An Ailing Prince

The red beams of the early morning sun showed through a window, into one of many hollows of the Ga'Hoole tree. Inside, the blue-feathered figure of a large snowy owl loomed over a book, carefully reading it. Silence was the only thing to echo throughout the hollow, save for the occasional rasp of a paper page being flipped over by a talon or wing, and the sound of waves from the sea hitting against the rocks outside, far below.

Most owls would be dead asleep by this time, but this peculiar owl was wide awake, and remained reading, page after page, book after book, without any pause. As he finished leafing through another chapter, he noticed the small shape of a young, female snowy owl, of a natural white-and-black coloration, approaching him, her talons clicking against the wooden ground as she walked. He didn't seem bothered by it.

"Da," the owlet, most likely in her first year since hatching, spoke to the blue owl. He blinked, and looked up, as if coming out of a trance, before his bright, yellow eyes came upon the smaller shape before him.

"What is it, Skia?" he asked, in his usual light, but emotionless voice, as he turned back to his book.

"There's a big, scary-looking owl at the door, Da," she replied. "He said he wants to see you. He says he's from the king and queen."

The owl immediately looked back to the owlet with a surprised look. When his face regained its previous stern composure, he placed a decorated, red ribbon, acting as a bookmark, into the tome he had been reading and closed it with a clap before hopping from his perch, his talons scraping against the floor from the impact as he landed.

"Hmph," he huffed, as he fluffed out his turquoise feathers. "I assume he's here to tell us that they demanded that we leave. As I expected..."

"Why do the owls here hate us so much, Da?" she asked, as she saw him walk up to the entrance of their hollow, a glum expression painted on her face.

"Because they're afraid of us. They think we're hagsfiend," he started to answer, before reciting from lore and knowledge that the books had bestowed upon him, about a certain, previous inhabitant. "There was an owl, a blue snowy owl, like me, that once came to the tree, but he was evil and was known as the Striga. He tried to take control of the mind of their king, a brave owl that went by the name of Coryn, but failed and was ousted from here. He must be what gave them all a fearful feeling about me."

Once he reached the hollow's closed, wooden door, he pulled gently on its handle until it was only slightly ajar. Sticking his head outside the crack of his door, he spotted a large, brown shape in front of it, almost right off. He opened it fully and soon realized it was a great horned owl, which stared at him in its permanent grimace that its facial feather formation gave it.

"What in Glaux's name do you want?" the blue owl asked, in an impatient, if not rude tone of voice. The owl curled his beak up into a sneer before he replied.

"Queen Blythe and King Ferris have asked for your presence, dragon owl," he began, growling the last part of the sentence. "By their decree and theirs alone, you are to follow me to their hollow at once. It is of paramount importance."

Without so much as waiting for a reply, the great horned owl spun around and took flight, his large wings making a gust of win that blew into the blue owl's face, annoying him slightly. The blue owl bounded into the morning air as well, quickly gaining up to the other until he was just behind him.

"Wait for me!" Skia shouted from below, as she, somewhat clumsily, jumped into the air, taking flight before joining up with them after a few wing beats. The one whom she spoke to looked over his shoulder briefly, before looking forward once more, letting out a small chuckle at the young owl's persistence to follow him.

It was only a minute of flying before they reached the hollow. As they landed, the dragon owl could see two, white shapes standing in front of its entrance, waiting to see who was arriving. Without a doubt, the dragon owl knew it was Queen Blythe and King Ferris; the pair of barn owls that ruled the tree, the former of which was a direct descendant of their last ruler, King Soren.

"Here he is, your majesties," the guardian spoke, bowing to the two.

"Thank you, Brune. You may leave now," Ferris spoke back to him.

"Of course," he obeyed, immediately turning around and flying off of the ledge, but not before giving the blue owl a dirty look. As he flew away, all three owls could hear and see Skia landing next to him, and looked to her. She stared back with an innocent look in her large, yellow eyes.

"Balthazar," Blythe, queen of the great tree, greeted in a cold, unwelcoming tone, as she refocused her attention back to the blue owl.

"Queen Blythe. King Ferris. You both summoned me here," the blue owl replied, answering to the name, as his wings folded behind his back. "I presume you have both finally decided to exile me from your tree for the rather trivial crime of tending to my own, and bothering nobody?"

"No," Ferris spoke, in a low voice, partially surprising him.

"Oh?" he said. "Then why have you called me here? It's late."

"It's our son," Blythe went on, quietly. "We think... we think he may be... dying from something. We've both heard of your expertise in healing, and ask for your assistance."

The dragon owl, at first wearing a look of shock and disbelief, gave an understanding look, and nodded his head. Ferris motioned to the hollow, and they all soon entered it, the royal pair leading them to the young tyto's room.

"So... the prince of the great tree of Ga'Hoole is sick, is he?" Balthazar inquired, in a voice reeking of sarcasm, after a moment of silence. "You haven't asked the ryb of the healing arts, by any chance?"

"We've asked every healer in the tree, but none of them know what ails him, or if there is a cure. All they can agree on is that they think it is a problem with his gizzard," Blythe spoke, in a much graver tone, as they approached a door, with a yellow light shining through its cracks. "We've tried every medicine and herb that we thought would have an effect, but every hour he grows weaker, and even now he struggles to breath. You're... the last one we can turn to."

Balthazar lifted his head in a somewhat proud strut at how they phrased it, but he returned to his serious composure when he heard the creaking sound of the door being opened. Looking inside the room, he and Skia could see a a large nest near the center of it, and inside of it rested a small, prone shape of a young owl, on his back. Looking closer, they could see he was laying on a pile of old down and feathers, and breathing rapidly, whilst his wings and talons twitched and fidgeted constantly and without pause. In the corner was a lit candle.

"Blythe? Ferris? Is that you?" a blind snake nest maid asked from where the nest was, poking her small, blackish head up from the multiple branches and feathers, revealing her.

"It is, Mrs. Glamis," Blythe replied.

"I'll have you know, I put some extra down for him to sleep on," the snake said again, in her aged, gentle-sounding voice, as she turned, and looked back to the ill owlet in the nest. "He is... he is still the same, though."

"Thank you, Mrs. Glamis. That will be all, for now," Ferris said. "You may leave, if you wish. The dragon owl will take things from here."

"I'll leave you all to it, then," Mrs. Glamis said, politely, as she slithered from the nest, past the owls, and out of the door. Skia took a particularly startled step back as she saw the long, black shape crawl past her, having never seen a live snake of any kind up close before.

Once she had left, Balthazar walked forward, up to the young tyto. When he was right next to him he lifted his leg up, and poked a talon at the base of his forehead. After sensing nothing, he slowly brought it down to where his stomach was, until it was right over the tyto's gizzard. Ferris and Blythe looked with sharp eyes as they watched him work, ready to act if he were to try anything.

"Hmm... it is his gizzard," he started, retracting the talon, and turning to face the parents. "An unnatural infection, caused by a deformity from birth. I've only seen a few cases in my life. It's a rather unique condition that starts when-"

"What comes from it? Will he be okay?" Blythe interrupted, much to the dragon owl's annoyance.

"It is fatal," he revealed, getting a shocked, but still stern reaction from the two barn owls, as seen on their heart-shaped faces. "Luckily, for you, I'm the only owl in all the Southern Kingdoms that can cure it. And I have just the remedy in my possession."

"And what, pray tell, is this "remedy?"" Ferris asked. "Nachtmagen? You use that on him, and I'll... I'll..."

"I do not use nachtmagen," he responded, calmly, raising a wing to settle him down. "My methods are whole and natural. Dark magic is... a thing of the past."

Walking past the two adult owls, he soon left the inside of the hollow and went outside of it, until he reached the edge of its balcony.

"I shall be back with the cure in but a moment," he said as he stretched his large wings out, looking over his shoulder to them. With a leap, the snowy owl flew through the air at a fast speed, down toward his own home.

Balthazar soon returned, a yellow, hollowed-out, liquid-filled gourd in his black beak, freshly plucked from one of his storage cupboards. When he landed he quickly walked past the king, queen, and Skia, and toward the room where the sick owl was.

"What is that? What's in there?" Blythe asked, once they all reached the nest, and Balthazar had pulled the cork off of the object with his talon.

"This... this is the essence of an herb that grows only in the Middle Kingdom, mixed with fresh rainwater," he stated, as he lifted the gourd up, and shook it, letting the liquid inside jiggle about. ""Shen's weed," as us owls from there call it. It's not widespread, and is hard to get, but it will save your son."

Both of the barn owls looked at each other, and slowly nodded in uneasy agreement.

"Do what you have to do," Blythe finally said. Balthazar instantly set to work, turning back to the owlet and approaching his side.

"Look at me," the blue owl spoke, in a low voice, arching his head over the nest. The smaller owl, hearing him, looked up and strained to open his eyes, spying the blue shape staring down from above him.

"Wh-wh-who are y-you?" the young tyto asked, his tortured and weak voice showing just how much pain he was undoubtedly feeling.

"That's not important," Balthazar replied. "Just look at me, and open your beak."

Doing as he said, the owlet did so, and opened his quivering mouth. Balthazar instantly set off to pouring the clear liquid into his maw, tapping on the gourd's tip to make sure every last drop went in. As soon as it touched his tongue, the owlet began to make a choking noise, induced by his condition, and the liquid started to leak from his nostrils. Balthazar, throwing the now-empty gourd away, had to use his talons to keep the beak shut, forcing the drink down.

"Shh... shh..." he hushed, in a manner of gentleness only a parent could give, as Blythe and Ferris jumped forward, unsure of what was happening. It was a few, nervous moments later that the young owl's breathing began to gradually slow, and turn normal, while his fidgeting stopped altogether. It was obvious to every bird in the room that he was now fast asleep, and no longer wracked by pain. His parents took in deep breaths of relief as they saw Balthazar remove his talons.

"We should leave him for a few minutes," Balthazar immediately spoke, staring back at the two. "It will take a little while for the herb to fully take effect. I'll tell you what will happen next outside."

"As you say..." Blythe said, her mate also in agreement with her, as seen by the similar look on his face. As they left, heading for the hollow's entrance, Balthazar had begun to talk about how long it would take him to fully recover, but unbeknownst to the owls, a certain owlet had stayed behind.

Skia, instead of leaving, took the quiet moment of being alone to hop over to where the other, prone owlet was, and peered into the nest at him. She noticed right off that he was around her age, if not just a week-or-two older. His flight feathers had grown in, but his size was still small, around her own. Curious, she raised her wing, and pushed, slightly, on his shoulder, to see what would happen. Skia let loose a mischievous grin when the young barn owl's little, black eyes opened groggily, and looked at her; her white shape slowly coming into focus.

They both simply stared at each other for a solid minute before she spoke. "Hi. What's your name?" she greeted, asking in a curious manner. The owl's black eyes looked up to the ceiling before he answered.

"Ce-Cedrick," he spoke, weakly. "Wh-who are you, exactly?"

"Skia," she said, before smirking again. "I think my father just saved your life, Cedrick."

As she spoke, her feathers began, without warning, to change in color and length, and her body, much to Cedrick's startled astonishment, began to morph in shape until what was previously a small snowy owl, was now a young barn owl, complete with pitch-black eyes, heart-shaped face, and covered in white and light brown feathers, just like him, if not mimicking his appearance exactly. Another round of staring commenced, until Cedrick decided to speak his mind.

"How... how did you do that?!" he stuttered, utterly amazed, despite how poor he felt.

"My Da says that I'm a... "changeling,"" she replied, looking away quickly, before returning her field of view back to him. "I can turn into any bird I want, as long as it has a gizzard. Neat, huh?"

"That sounds... really neat..." he murmured, but in a friendly way, before another thought came to mind. "Do you have any brothers o-or sisters?"

"No," she spoke. "Just my Da. He said my mother died just before I could hatch, so it's just me and him. We travel around the Southern Kingdoms together, healing owls in need, like you, or finding books and scrolls of knowledge to read."

"I h-have two sisters," Cedrick began, thinking of his siblings that weren't present. "My oldest sister is named May, and my slightly younger, but still-older-than-me sister is named Marella, a-after our great-grandmother."

"What are they like?" Skia asked.

"Well, Marella is nice enough, and acts a lot like Mum, but May can be a little bossy, at times..." he answered, snickering slightly.

They both let laughs escape their mouths, which quickly filled up the small room, until Cedrick was thrown into a small coughing fit.

"Um... I'm sorry I bothered you. I should... let you rest now," Skia said, as she slowly went back into her snowy owl form, any of the brown feathers she had turning bright white, or black, and her height increasing, as her eyes turned yellow once more. "My Da said you need a lot of sleep before you get better."

"Oh. O-okay..." Cedrick spoke, in a depressed way. "Goodbye, Skia."

"Bye, Cedrick. It was nice talking with you," Skia said in return. She watched as he nestled down on his back and closed his eyes, before she decided to make her leave. Walking back to the small hollow's doorway, and gently opening it, she slipped out of the room, and closed it again behind herself, making no noise in the process. Just when it appeared as though the owlet was in the clear, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

"Skia," the owl in question suddenly heard. She spun around, and saw Balthazar standing right behind her, causing her to let out a startled squeak.

"Hi, Da..." she spoke, nervously.

"You must go back to the hollow, and get to bed, daughter," he began, apparently unknowing, ignorant, or uncaring of where she had been. "We're packing and leaving when night falls."

"Wait, what? Why do we have to leave? Did the king and queen say we had to?" Skia asked, deeply surprised.

"No," he responded, bluntly. "The other owls here do not fully trust us, and I don't think it is wise to stay here any longer."

"Do we have to...?" she complained, in a long, trailing voice.

"Yes," he said. "Now go back to the hollow, and get some sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

"Okay..." Skia finally sighed, sorrowfully, after a few moments, and lowering her head. As Balthazar turned around and walked toward the exit of the hollow, she trudged behind him. As soon as they were out, she, after making a quick glance at the king and queen, fluttered her wings and took to the air, headed for her own hollow. Ferris and Blythe looked at Balthazar, their expressions much gentler and welcoming than before.

"For saving our son's life, Balthazar," Ferris began, "we are both in your de-"

"Spare me, "my king,"" Balthazar interrupted. "My daughter and I are leaving. Tonight."

"Well... why?" he asked, confused.

"Because I fear we will not be welcome here, no matter what we do," he responded. "I do not wish for my daughter to be in an environment such as this, and for that, I'm afraid we must depart from here."

"You saved my son's life, and by Glaux, for that we are both eternally grateful," Blythe spoke up, when she saw him walk pas them both. "Just know that if you ever need a place to roost, or a sanctuary from the outside, you're always welcome here."

"I'll keep it in mind," Balthazar said, halfheartedly. With those final words, the blue snowy owl stretched his long wings out, and flapped away, joining his daughter in the flight to their hollow, as the two barn owls could only watch.