My spirit was lifted to see the wondrous ring of white birch trees where I call my home. We had reached the Glauxian Brothers' retreat with no occurrences, and Flint had managed to fly the entire distance without exceeding difficulty.
It was during the time of one of the nightly meditation flights when we arrived and one of the Brothers who had been flying with me had flown ahead to make our presence known so we could ready the hollows the five Pure Ones would be staying in. Three would sleep in one hollow, and two in the other. Sadly, this hollow sharing was recommended by the Guardians so it would make escape more difficult. The hollows are residence hollows and have no means of detaining an owl inside - much the way I and the other brothers prefer it. We have no need or want of any means to confine an owl like the prisons in the Ice Palace, such a thing would be blasphemous.
So, all weary from the long flight, we arrived at the two hollows and showed the five former Pure Ones in. Flint was especially weary from the flight and had complained that it was far colder than anything he was used to. Cleve of Firthmore was with us and overheard Flint mention his exhaustion, feelings of weakness, and cold.
It was time to clean Flint's wound again, and Cleve felt an urging need to do so as soon as possible.
In short time, we had settled the five owls into their hollows and brought them a meager supper telling them that they would have the remainder of the night to rest, because they would be arising before sunset the next day.
Flint was not hungry and he opted to have his bandage removed and the wound cleaned. I had decided to remain with him this time as Cleve began unraveling the lemming leather bandage.
Cleve's face fell grim once he could see the wounds.
Cringing, Flint knew why. "It is infected again, isn't it?"
"Yes, Flint, it is." Cleve replied. "It is swollen and you are very warm."
"I know." Flint swallowed in fear and asked, "Can you heal it?"
Cleve's face shifted from solemn to friendly as he grinned and spoke warmly. "Sure. Sure. Do not worry, it is no problem. We have very good medicine here, and I am going to go get some for you."
"Thank you." Was Flint's serious but grateful reply.
Nodding in response, Cleve left the hollow. Three Guardians sat perched outside watching the two hollows in adjacent trees, and inside this hollow were only Flint, a former Pure One named Darrin, and myself. There were a few moments of silence during which I felt that I should say something, so I spoke.
"I am glad that we arrived here safely, the winter winds here can be very fierce on occasion. I hope that now we are here, you will come to like to like the Glauxian Brothers and that someday you can think of us as just that, your brothers."
Flint and Darrin acknowledged that I spoke by looking at me, but they both had sad expressions on their faces and did not speak.
I sighed. "I know it must be hard accepting the changes you have been forced to face, but they are for the better. You are with good owls now, we want to help you."
"We've lost everything, don't expect this to be easy for us." Flint said with a slight antagonistic edge.
"I know." I replied meekly. "And I don't expect it to be easy. But maybe if we look ahead at the good that is in store for you, it will not be so hard."
"It would be easier if my brother were here." Flint replied glumly.
"Oh, you have a brother? Do you know if he is okay?" I asked conversationally. I had heard in passing of this brother of Flint's and wanted to hear more about him.
Flint shook his head. "Felic, my adopted brother. I don't know where he is or if he is even alive. We were separated when we surrendered."
"I am so sorry." I empathized. "I hope that he is okay and that he ends up coming here."
Flint sighed again in response.
I had hoped to actually speak with Flint concerning the matters I had been curious about, however now would be a bad time and I sensed that Flint wanted to mourn in silence.
Darrin and I conversed for a while about his chickhood and how he became affiliated with the Pure Ones. His family had been captured while he was a very young owlet and he had been forced to serve the Pure Ones. Before his family was separated, his parents attempted to resist. As compensation, Darrin's youngest brother was beheaded in front of his family. They were warned that any further conflict would result in the death of another family member. Darrin had no choice but comply with the Pure Ones.
His gruesome tale was not unlike many others that I had heard told of the Pure Ones, and I encouraged him to relate it to me where Flint could hear. I wanted the young owl to hear from the beak of another Pure One what horrors the regime had committed.
Cleve arrived back shortly with supplies to cleanse Flint's injury and quell the pain associated with it. This time, I steadied my gizzard and watched Cleve flush the wound with boiled water, then apply a special ointment from grain that was minced, baked and allowed to mold. It supposedly would keep the infection down. Cleve then applied another herbal mix that would encourage healing and sooth pain.
Results were not immediate, but that is not how medicine works. Only time will tell if infection will dissipate and Flint's wound will heal.
After Flint had been treated by Cleve, he was far too tired and in far too great pain to carry on a conversation with me. Cleve and I respected his and Darrin's implied request that we leave so we did so, telling them that we would be back sometime early the next evening to talk with him.
It would not be too long until the next sunrise, so we simply left the five of them to sleep in their hollows until the next night, or so we thought.
It was late afternoon when I received news that Flint's condition had worsened because of the severity of his infection. He had been taken to hollow where we treat the sick and injured.
I hastily arrived to find that Flint was indeed in a terrible condition.
One of our healers was tending him best he could; however, there was little to be done to help Flint beyond ensuring he was kept cool and that his injury was clean. Pure snow and ice had been wrapped in fabric knitted from string woven from rabbit hair. This was slipped into Flint's bandage to simultaneously cool the wound and his body as a whole as he was running a dangerously high temperature.
His condition remained the same as the day turned to night and the moon rose. Flint lay still, occasionally stirring and changing position. His fate now rests solely in Glaux's control.
