The moonlight from the nearly full moon was shining brightly onto Flint's new feathers he, a fledgling now, admired them. Until the last week, they had been covered by the overlaying owlet down and were difficult to see much of, but starting about five days ago, the down had slowly begun to fall away to show the feathers' true splendor. Most of Flint's body was now well feathered, being fifty four days of age, and he simply loved the feeling of having a layer of feathers instead of his owlet down. Still, though, Flint had a fair amount of down left on his back and on his front side just below his chest.
In short, Flint was growing up, and quite rapidly too. It would only be a few more days before he and his squadron would begin learning to fly. Such exciting thoughts; however, there were other things that he and his comrades would learn to do before flying. Corporal Bennett had promised them that.
They had been keeping to their normal schedule for this particular few days. They were learning how to properly wield battleclaws, the weapon of choice for most soldiers of the Pure Ones. These were not simple lessons, but rather were intense training sessions on how to properly strap onto their talons the different sub-varieties of the weapons. For each type, there was a particular method of tying the vole or rabbit skin leather straps, so it took an entire day of practice to become competent of donning, removing, and the re-donning the weapons.
Nonetheless, their schedule consisted of half a night's practice with the claws and then several long hours of physical training to strengthen each of fledglings so that they would be strong fliers from the start.
But tonight, the second half of the night would be entirely different.
Corporal Bennett had ordered his ten subordinates to form up in a line so he could relay to them the change in their schedule and the lesson behind it.
"Listen up squadron." He ordered, starting his line of speech. "You have been learning very well about the array of weapons that you will be using on the field of combat, and I compliment you on your potential."
There was a slight bristle of positive energy that pulsed through the lined up fledglings as they received high praise from their corporal. Corporal Bennett saw this and paused a moment, overlooking the slight breach of etiquette. "Yes. You have performed well. However, I have seen in more than a few of you show hesitation when it I have told you that these weapons will be used to slay the impure. And that is Unacceptable!" Corporal Bennett bellowed the last word then calmed back down to a normal tone. "Now, because of this, I have decided that it is high time that you take part of a very special event that all young Tytos in our ranks get to undertake. Now tell me Cyndermore," Corporal Bennett looked at the Barn owl he addressed. "What are the impure species when compared to us as Pure blood Tytos?"
"Gull splat, Sir. More dirty than racdrops." He showed no signs of hesitation when he spoke because he had none. Cyndermore had wholeheartedly had accepted the Pure Ones and their beliefs along with all the other members of the squadron Flint was in.
"Good. Now Triton. What are we, as Pure Tytos to do with the lower, impure order of owls?" He asked authoritatively.
The fledgling Masked owl responded. "They are ours to use as we please, Sir."
Corporal Bennett nodded slightly and replied in a controlled military tone. "Yes. That is right, Triton." He then turned to Flint and ordered to him a question. "How are we supposed to feel about the impure?"
"We are supposed to hate them, Sir." Flint replied. "I detest them with all my gizzard."
Flint was speaking out of truth, and had any of the other fledglings same thing, they would have been speaking out of truth as well. The Pure Ones, in their bloated egotistical views, believed that only the Barn owl species, the Tytos, were worthy of being called a 'True Owl'. As such, their officers could be quite effective, even in only a few weeks, when given young owlets imprint with their beliefs.
Addressing the entire group, the corporal ordered harshly, "Now all of you say it!"
There was a unified chorus of "I hate them all!" Needless to say, the coordinated screaming of the statement was not unpracticed.
One would not think that hatred could be so easily learned, but teaching it was an art form for the corporals in charge of initiating owlets and fledglings that did not know better. This resulted in an entire culture of hatred that was at the core of the life of any true Pure One.
Corporal Bennett stifled a slight smile from seeing such a prompt and heartfelt response. Instead, he remained stern. "It is high time you get to show your hatred then."
The fledglings were left wondering what their corporal was speaking of, but they knew not to ask questions. If something was not told to them, then they either did not need to know it or it would be told to them at a later time. It was not their place to question authority and decide what they needed to know.
Still, there was a silent wonder that was passed between the fledglings as they were being lead, walking single file in step to their destination.
Flint and his comrades were being lead through a section of the canyons that they had not been through before. But while they were going there, Flint remembered Eric had mentioned something about where the moonblinked and non-Tyto owls were ordered to sleep when not performing some task that assisted the Union. It was somewhere in this area, if Flint recalled correctly.
Shortly, the destination was reached. The small ravine that the owls had been walking through connected onto a massive section of a large canyon. Eric had told Flint that this is where the last inhabitants of St. Aegoleous moonblinked their entire forces. Hundreds of owls at once would be ordered to sleep in the full shine of the moon in this canyon, and most of their waking time would be spend in the general area. The library was nearby, Flint had wanted to go there for long time, and Eric promised that once he was able to fly, that he would go.
Even now, though, there was a tremendous level of activity in this canyon. Dozens of armed Pure ones were flying patrol in the skies far above the canyons while many others were perched on outcroppings on the walls. Meanwhile, literal hundreds of non-tyto owls were flying or walking through the canyon. Many of the walking owls were loaded down with satchels filled to the brim with pellets to be processed at the old pelletorium, while others were carrying loads of metal ores to be given to the rogue smiths as payment or material for new weapons.
Eric had lectured Flint about the ways of the previous inhabitants, and one particular note was that the leaders were completely incompetent. One of the many things that they had overlooked was the rich supply of metals in the cavesystems that interconnected the canyons and spiraled down some distance into the earth. The entire process of extracting the metals was arduous at best and deadly at worst because. Due to simple physical nature of design, owls are not made for breaking stone, no matter what kind of tools they are given. Nonetheless, some of the few thinkers of the Pure Ones like Eric had devised a tool based on the old Othren pickaxe. It was small enough for an owl to wield but made to be purposely heavy for its size. However, instead of having a long handle, it was attached to the end of a lightweight chain.
This is where the dangerous part would come in. The owl using the tool would fly up to full speed while carrying the tool by the chain. Once approaching the wall, the owl would jerk away at at the right angle to hurl the pick of the tool into the stone wall. If all was done right, it would chip away a large portion of stone and perhaps even dislodge the piece of ore in question. However, the process took a fair degree of mastery so none of the moonblinked owls could do it. Instead, it was left to the captured non-tytos to undertake this dangerous task. Altogether, it was not rare for something to go wrong and an owl end up impaled by his or her own tool.
Fortunately, though, the cave system was indescribably vast, and rich seams of ores were exposed on the walls, so the mining owls were permitted a very large, open area to work and not much extensive digging was required.
Observing this, though, was not the reason that Flint and his squadron were being lead by their commanding officer. Instead, they were taken through another small canyon that branched off the main one and were lead down a path to a widened hub were three small ravines like the one they were walking through met.
Stationed on rocky outcroppings above were two owls guarding the area. Because there were such a high number of owls not loyal to the Pure Ones, security was tight, but there was an additional reason for the security.
In this hub, there was access to a small cave system that was separate to the massive one where the ores are extracted. It was only about two or three small cavities, each three wingspans in size on average, but with narrow passages wide enough for an owl to squeeze through from one room to another.
Inside, guarding the first passage, were three Pure Ones, but one came out to greet Corporal Bennett.
The guard saluted him and asked, "Hello Sir, I have two owls ready for you like you requested."
"Very good, soldier. Please bring them out." Corporal Bennett stated flatly.
"Right away. One thing though," The soldier on guard duty paused for a moment for Corporal Bennett to nod and approve before stating something more. When he did, the soldier continued. "The two that I will be allocating you directly disobeyed their overseer and rebelled against us. They were punished, but if you could ensure that they receive a very good beating, their overseer would be quite appreciative. He made it quite clear, actually."
"Don't worry. Bring them on out."
The soldier nodded and entered back into the first chamber of the cave. A few minutes passed as he and his subordinates sifted through the two dozen or so detained non-tytos and brought out two Barred owls.
"They look like two big walking pine cones." Eilwyn jokingly whispered to the entire group in particular.
The entire group softly laughed in the churring owl laughter.
They did look odd, though. Flint commented to himself. They certainly did not look as good in the face or on the wings as the white faces and soft tan primaries the species of Tytos.
The two owls were bound at the wings, legs, and beak with thick vines taken from the Forest Kingdom of Ambala to the east.
Looking on with interest, the fledglings were not quite sure what they were going to do, but judging from the context of what the guard said, they would be hurting these owls somehow. Their questions were soon answered by their corporal, just as they had learned that they would.
"Squadron. Break up into two lines. Aves, you will be the first in the line on the left, Alabaster, you will be the first on the right."
The fledglings did as ordered, and Flint ended up fourth of fifth in the line on the right. Each of the two lines were then directed to stand front to back facing one of the two tied up Barred owls.
Once done, Corporal Bennett gave his underlings one last set of instructions. "You who are in the front, you will go up and strike the impure owl ahead of your line. You will then move to the back of the line. The next one is to do the same thing and so on. When whoever is in front currently goes a second time, that is one cycle. Whichever line cycles the most time in two minutes wins. Ready! Begin!"
Each of the fledglings was only standing two steps away from one of the Barred owls. Aves had hesitantly crossed this gap and with equal reserve, looked into the eyes of the Barred owl and uttered silently, "I'm sorry." before lofting a short distance into the air and striking him across the face with cuffed talons.
Meanwhile in the other line, Alabaster had already quite viciously raked her claws across the chest of her target and Eilwyn was already halfway through a midair kick.
Flint's turn was rapidly approaching, and he was quite excited. He didn't quite know how he was going to attack because he had never actually tried beating another owl. The fledgling in front of him, Kail, was now facing his turn, and he did not falter. Suddenly, it was time for Flint to attack.
He quickly jumped forward with an assist from his fledging wings, cocking back a leg and cuffing his talons into a fist.
There was a split second where the bludgeoned owl laying in pain on the ground made terrified eye contact with Flint, and he nearly hesitated, but he carried through and slammed his cuffed talons against the owl's ribs.
What a rush of adrenaline it was! It felt incredible to hold power over another owl.
Flint quickly scurried to the back of the line and waited the short time for his turn come around again. It did, and this time, there was not the slightest hint of hesitation on his part.
But it was over so quickly, and he was forced to the back of the line again to eagerly anticipate his next time around. This continued for a short time, only about a minute, and each time around became shorter as whatever qualms Flint and his comrades had were quickly overcome by the pleasures of injuring owls they mutually hate.
And each time around, they struck harder and harder in more vulnerable and sensitive areas to tap the resource of pleasure to be extracted from inflicting pain. Flint himself was not above striking in the facial regions as hard as he could muster. Needless to say, the beatings dealt by most of the fledglings long ago ceased being carried out solely because of orders.
Then suddenly, there was a sharp cry the Barred owl that was being brutalized by the line Flint was not in. "Please! Please Stop!" He had been winded by one of the first blows and had been struggling for the past minute to regain his breath so he could beg for mercy.
Eveline, who had been next to strike him, faltered in her approach and took a hard tumble, granting the owl a few more precious seconds free from the next strike.
"Please! Mercy!"
Flint having heard the first cry for help and knowing very well what it was, ignored it. It wasn't until he had already broken two of the other owl's ribs that the reality of the situation had set in.
There was dead silence for several moments as Flint's comrades had stopped everything they were doing and were in a state of disorder.
"I Did Not Order You To Stop! Continue! Continue!" Corporal Bennett bellowed at the top of his lungs.
There was another few moments of disorder while those who were going to obey scrambled to figure out the order in which they were to continue. Altogether, Millen, Alabaster, Eilwyn, Kail, and Flint were the five who were going to obey.
However, Cyndermore physically stopped Eilwyn which was enough to bring him to his senses, and Flint choked up at the last second when his target cringed and reared away from him.
The entire process had come to a halt and was not going to continue.
"Get Over Here! NOW!" Their corporal ordered in a tone harsher and louder than any had conceived possible.
They all complied in great fear without uttering a single word. The punishments for such disobedience were severe, and all but maybe Millen, Alabaster, and Kail would receive them.
Corporal Bennett was going to enact the punishments immediately after the two Barred owls were dragged away. After all, you would not want to give the impure owls the wrong impression, would you?
The fledglings were to stand silently in line as the two beaten and bloodied owls were helped back into the chamber in the cave they were being held in just a few minutes earlier. While this was transpiring, Flint could not tear his eyes away from their broken forms and question his very sense of being for having enjoyed injuring them so.