A/N: This is a mirrorverse story. I have no excuse for this other than I have been reading way to many mirrorverse fics lately, and a particularly evil plot bunny bit me when I was reading The Siege.
Wendy: I'm in the mirror universe. ... A parallel universe where everyone who's good is evil, and evil is good. It's like that episode of Star Trek where Spock had a goatee and Chekov tried to —
-The Middleman, "The Palindrome Reversal Palindrome"
Look into a mirror, and you see a reflection of yourself. Is that reflection simply just a reflection of your appearance, or is it something more? Is it some other being, some other you that is both the same and yet different? Is this mirror a window into some other Twilight Zone-esque, alternate reality, where another you exists, but is twisted, skewed in some way you cannot begin to comprehend?
You are, dear reader, probably quite familiar with the war between noble Guardians and their myriad of allies against the evil Pure Ones. Who can forget the great achievements of the Band and the Chaw of Chaws? The noble Soren, the jaunty Twilight, the knowledgeable Otulissa, the wise Ezylryb? How about the dark and twisted Nyra, the evil-turned-good Uglamore, and fiendish Metal Beak, Soren's own brother? The list goes on and on, with owls and allies alike taking their turn in the great chronicle of the owl kingdoms and the Great Tree.
But what if we were to look at this world through our twisted mirror? What would we see, dear reader? Are those whose morals we seem sure of still the same? Would the lines between good and evil even still exist as we know it? Let us take a flight over this reflected land, dear reader, and I shall tell you of what we see.
We look over a landscape that still looks the same as before, but that is unsurprising. For it is the nature of a mirror to reflect physical appearances, and it is no different here. The Great Tree still exists in the middle of the Hoolemere Sea, and the forest kingdom of Tyto still exists to the south of it, past the Beaks.
Drawing closer, we see a hollow in a fir tree, home to a family of Barn Owls, the Albas to be precise. There is a mother and father, and their two sons, as well as an egg about to hatch. One son dreams of battle and glory, and the other dreams of the legends his father tells in the wee hours of the morning. A blind, rosy-colored snake cheerfully keeps house for this family. What about this scene is different? Nothing in outward appearances, for as I said before, a mirror reflects the appearances of what it is shown.
The family is focused on the egg, which is just beginning to hatch. Out tumbles a female chick, whom the mother promptly names Eglantine. One brother loves her immediately, and the other turns away, seeing nothing but competition in the nest for his parents' already limited attention. They do not seem to like him as much, he has surmised, as he is always questioning the status quo.
After he and his brother settle to sleep after their branching practice, the mother and father start to talk quietly in that way grown owls do when they don't want their young ones to know of things that could ruin their innocence. They speak of owlet and egg snatchings, of owls disappearing into the night without a trace, of their fears for their own little family. Sounds familiar, right?
It is here that the minute differences in our mirrorverse start to emerge. We hear not only the words "egg stealing", "owlet snatching", but also "Guardians" and "Ga'hoole," used in conjunction with these terrible phrases. Further eavesdropping reveals a truly awful revelation: these are not the noble Guardians we know and love. These so-called Guardians patrol the owl kingdoms and "keep the peace" by any means necessary, which includes "disposing" of dissenters. Remember the earlier mention of owls disappearing without a trace? Perhaps these are the culprits? More than likely, but no sane owl here would ever admit that. Eggs and owlets disappearing without a trace; most likely to be turned into future Guardians, loyal to the cause and willing to enforce any laws and edicts set down by the High King of the Great Tree, whose ancestor seized power in the time of hagsfiends and natchmagen. He defeated the noble hagsfiends, who were some of the only beings with any power to resist him.
Noble hagsfiends? To use those two words in one sentence seems blasphemous. What kind of reflection is this that we are seeing? Remember, dear reader, that our mirror is twisted. It likes to take what we see and turn it on its head, even if we don't notice it at first. If our mirror is twisted in such a manner, then what else will it show us?
How about a Great Horned and her loyal Western Screech lieutenant who work tirelessly in the canyons to snatch back the owlets and eggs taken by the Guardians? What of their goals? To train their adopted sons and daughters, and hopefully one day have an army large enough to take on the Guardians? Perhaps to understand the terrible power of the flecks that they have in abundance, and why these are so valuable to the Guardians?
What of a mysterious blue owl in a kingdom to the far west, who dreams of a time when his ancestors fought valiantly in a land of ice and snow, even daring to fly over the salty water of the sea? The salty water that could have spelled their doom, and the many for whom it did? An owl, who is drowning in the lush and gorgeous riches that could be considered glaumora by many, but is his own personal hagsmire? A gilded prison, designed by one of those who vanquished his noble ancestors and made them powerless?
What of a small group of owls, who consider themselves pure in gizzard and mind, and who are determined to purify the owl kingdoms of the evil of the Guardians? What of their leader, a beautiful owl, who is said to be descended from the hagsfiends themselves? Their military commander, who grows old and infirm after so many failed battles? The desperation of the group, who pride themselves on their military prowess, as they look for a new leader before the current one expires?
And finally, what of two brothers? One, who is unloved and unwanted, a warrior born but unable to use his gifts? They say we are all hatched to do something, and this one knows he was meant to fight. He has known it ever since he saw the Barn Owl flash by outside his hollow with the battle claws. He longs to test his prowess in battle, but that is forbidden. What of the other, favored brother? The acceptor of the status quo, the believer in all of the legends, many fabricated, some forbidden, that his father tells? The one who is devoted to his sister, almost to the point of fanatic obsession?
We see in this twisted reflection a owl world that waits. It needs only the right catalyst to set events into motion. In our world, it was the evil of one brother who pushed the other out of their hollow home to die.
Like our world, the catalyst that sets the momentous events into motion begins with the idea of death, the death of an owlet in the Alba family. This family seems either blessed or accursed by Glaux, depending on the point of view.
Except in this world, there is a death, not a supposed one. A band of rebels attacks a patrol of Guardians in an insane, last-ditch maneuver as they are cornered after a long chase in front of a fir tree. One brother, who is still in the nest watching his beloved younger sister while the parents and other brother are out hunting, are caught in the middle. Confused and terrified, the two young owls try to escape the bloodbath outside their hollow. They make good their escape, but suddenly a terrible cry rents the air.
It is Eglantine, as she falls down, down, down, to the forest floor below, mortally wounded. She has been struck by a Guardian by mistake. Her maddened brother did not see this. All he sees is the rebel owl that valiantly dives to catch her. Fueled by insane rage, he attacks, and a new Guardian is born. However, her other brother, returning from the hunt, sees the truth of the attack unfolding before his horrified eyes, and watches as his seemingly gentle brother kills his sister's would-be rescuer.
The last bit our twisted mirror shows us is two stony-eyed and stony-gizzarded owls, as they sit on the branches of their childhood fir. Rage burns in the eyes of both, but for different reasons. They speak of what they saw, and begin to argue heatedly. Their argument quickly turns to violence, and after trading blows, one of them wings north. The other sits and momentarily mourns the loss of his family and his innocence, then straightens. He is stronger than this, a born warrior. With a fierce look burning in his eye, he takes to the skies towards parts unknown. His fate is with the winds, but he does not care. Because, for the first time in his life, his gizzard is telling him he flying the right path, and for the first time in his life, he feels free!