What an ill-favored night, thought Gerald, as he perched on the ledge of his hollow. Far beneath the Snowy Owl's perch, the ocean lapped against the ice, a dark force ever gnawing away at his home. However, Gerald's eyes were fixed on the moon. It looked down on the Ice Narrows like a bloodred eye, as the shadow of the Earth ate at it.
"The watchers are watched, strong ice weathers the glare of the evil eye." Gerald muttered the proverb, one he had borrowed from neighboring puffins, fervently hoping it was true. His stomach lurched uncomfortably. He knew very little about what was meant to happen on this particular eclipse, but he had heard rumors of a terrible hatching, and the dire wolves that had prevented it on the orders of the Guardians. The slink melf had been successful, and the evil was gone, pulled away by a cleansing tide.
Things might have been different, he thought, what would've happened if they'd shown mercy… He shook the thought away. Was it treacherous to think like this? How could it be, when he was one of the Glauxian Brotherhood? He had started his holy pilgrimage nearly three moons ago, choosing his spot carefully, so he could help any owls passing through to or from the Northern Kingdoms. Plus, he was unusually fond of puffins and wanted to learn enough to help dispel the exaggerated rumors of their stupidity.
Well, maybe not all that exaggerated, he thought, as he watched a couple of puffins collide. They cursed vehemently, and he sighed. He got plenty of news here, but what he really missed was caring for another creature. With the war ended, there were more birds than ever criss-crossing the Kingdoms, taking the news out to the world, veterans of battle were returning to their hollows, and a great peace rested over the land. But at a terrible cost… and all over an Ember. Gerald held no belief whatsoever in the Ember and its supposed 'powers' or magen of any sort… it just simply didn't exist.
He was still brooding over this dark thought in the dimming, ruddy glow of a half-eaten moon, when he felt the ice tremor under his talons. His eyes widened in fear and he instinctively launched himself from the cliff. In that moment, all hagsmire broke loose. The world seemed to split like the bloody moon in an instant, the ocean churned, terrified puffins fled their hollows screeching, and the cliffs bucked and twisted like a cornered animal. Great chunks of fell from the cliffs, smashing into the sea below, and the air was full of screaming. But one voice reached Gerald, that of his neighbor, Jocko.
"NO!" the guttural cry tore through the night, and Gerald saw a tiny flash of white hurtling towards the sea… Gerald folded his massive white wings in, and dove. Only one thought ran through his head: if colliers catch coals, by Glaux, I can catch an egg… He shot out his right foot and… yes! He cradled the egg gently in his claws. Something flashed by his face, and he caught it in his second foot. With a power flap, Gerald joined the hovering parents as the cliffs shuddered one last time. They glided to the top of the cliff, to a patch of solid earth, and Gerald hovered as he gently set down his precious payload.
"My egg!" gasped Tootsie, tears streaming down her beak as she nuzzled it. Jocko gave him a grateful look, but as his gaze drifted down to the second object, his face tightened with fear.
"By Ice and capelins!" he gasped, scrambling back. He flung out a protective wing in front of his mate and egg. "What is that?!" Gerald glanced down, and, for once, was at a complete loss. He touched it with an experimental talon, and jerked it back.
"Ice is right," Gerald said as he stooped to examine it, "issen blaue, I think, but some of the clearest I've ever seen… Glaux almighty." He whispered, his gizzard grinding to a stop. That's impossible. He gazed at it hard, and through the transparent, faceted surface of the blue ice, was a dark, pulsating mass. He squinted, and wilfed to half his size. He could just make it out in the failing light:the bulging eyes, the talons, the beak…
"An egg made of ice!" he said, and the moonlight intensified, so bright it was painful… but it wasn't coming from the moon, which was engulfed completely in shadow. It was coming from the ice egg! Gerald squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the silvery light. Glaux, I regret everything I've ever thought about magen not being real, please just let it stop! He prayed, his beak moving silently, hoping so desperately… The light faded away, slowly, and the icy shell shattered like glass at the darkest moment of that bizarre night.
"An owlet," Gerald gasped, his eyes wide "It's a girl!" The chick shuddered against the cold, and cheeped feebly for a second, a wordless plea. Gerald's heart melted like ice around a smee hole for the little one, and he coaxed her to sit on top of his feathered talons. She snuggled deep into his snowy feathers, and he churred.
"There, that's better eh, little one?" he said, and the chick's large head swung towards him. The lid of an eye cracked open, and light flooded from it. He gasped, as both her eyelids slowly parted, completely revealing her huge, perfectly silver eyes. The puffins screeched and fled in terror as the light dyed the snow and Gerald's belly feathers all colors of the rainbow. She swung her head around, and the light cast colorful shadows over the remains of the ice egg.
"I-i-isen… freyan?" the owlet questioned in a feeble voice. She blinked, and the light flickered away, her eyes suddenly the exact shade of yellow as his. "Freyan?" She squinted, and instantly was covered with fluffy white down. Gerald opened and closed his beak a few times, at loss for words or even coherent thoughts. Freyan, he thought, things clicking despite his shock, Old Krakish for, um… I was frozen! He smiled with triumph, but then his beak clamped shut.
Why in Glaux's name is this owlet speaking AT ALL, never mind what language?! Another shock rippled through him, as he noticed her appearance.
"Uh, well, young'un… I guess you're in my responsibility now…" she nuzzled his leg and muttered something cheerfully. "You can call me 'Da'. And I'll call you 'Freya', I think."
The little one's newly yellow eyes sparkled with happiness, and Gerald knew he was talons-over-head in love with this miracle.
