A/N: Chapter as promised, three days before the deadline. I can't quite tell if the bonus is larger than the chapter itself, but they are roughly similarly sized. I'm somewhat curious as to what to do with it, but for now, I'll keep it organized just like how I'm doing it now. As for future plans, I'm uncertain. I won't any guarantees I can't keep, but I'll consider working both on this and my newest project should the opportunity present itself. So, yeah, I think I'm going to go to bed. Long day tomorrow like the rest of you lads, eh? Take care of yourselves and enjoy.

"Quickness is the essence of the war."

~ Sun Tzu

Chapter Fourteen

Power Play

There was a calming silence during that short span of time for Aedan. Everything just seemed to evaporate before him, the war, the enemy, the forest. He finally felt at peace with himself. Almost accepting some predetermined fate that was undoubtedly waiting for him. All his concerns vanished, and his regard for anything else — made absent. His eyes remained closed during the entire ordeal, having no need to see what comes about of him.

This period of tranquility, however, was short-lived. As the seconds dragged onwards, it became abundantly clear to Aedan that nothing went as expected. The only sensation he felt was the mild brush of air over his entire body as he flew onwards.

But then, there was a sharp shriek from behind him. Aedan cringed at the sound. His eyes no longer wished to hide from the circumstances, and he let them flutter open. An almost relieving, yet saddening sight became apparent to Aedan.

As it would turn out, it just wasn't his time yet, and Glaux must've offered him a second chance.

The Snowy Owl that had previously been trying to kill Aedan was now rapidly falling out of the sky, with bolts struck on several parts of its body. The sound of the crossbow firing wasn't from the Snowy Owl as Aedan had first imaged, but indeed from a separate source, a source that has miraculously saved him.

Aedan flapped his wings several times and leveled off, looking for his savior. He would not be displeased.

A certain Brown Fish Owl formed up near his port wing, an individual Aedan had not expected to be here.

"You won't last long if you don't react in time," Jedrek scolded, though he himself was quite relieved Aedan was alright.

"It's hard to think clearly when you got bolts flying right over your head," Aedan argued, though it was safe to say he hadn't been thinking clearly since the start of the engagement. He just wasn't conditioned enough for it.

Jedrek wanted to press the issue, but circumstances obviously prevented it.

"I think for now it's best we reach a higher altitude, let's regroup with the others, eh?"

The two of them banked upwards and power stroked until they got to their vantage point. The battle between the two other units seemed to die down a little but was still in full swing.

With proper leadership acquired and all of them regrouped, it was easy to establish that all of them were in good in shape. Lack of bolts, however, would be a significant hindrance to their present ability to fight. But with all of them still alive and well, they still had some options to work with. Jedrek began to lay out their current set of plans for the time being.

"Well, I got some good news and some bad news," Jedrek glanced around towards the three of them, but his gaze mostly fell onto Aedan.

"The good news is that we will be relieved by another unit very shortly, allowing us to return to our base and get reorganized." There were some sighs of relief, although they've only been in combat for roughly a couple minutes, they had seen enough to become weary of it altogether.

"The bad news, however, is that until help arrives we must maintain our presence over the battlefield." Despite the context of the statement, Jedrek hardly seemed bothered by it. This directly contrasted the somewhat more anxious trio who were now gravely concerned about their present capabilities.

"But sir," Gershom objected, "we lack enough bolts to hold our own, we must at least get resupplied and then return-"

"Can't do it," Jedrek answered simply, "if we leave, many more soldiers will die, we just have to accept the possibility that we may be in a bad spot should the enemy wise up to our present disadvantages."

And so, despite the well-justified fears of another engagement, the group of four maintained their position over the main battle, helpless to do anything for the friendly Ambalian troops down below.

Their presence did have a positive impact, though, much to Aedan's surprise. By now, their appearance in the battle has gathered the hostiles' attention, and they could not commit all of their troops into battle in fear that Aedan's group circling above them would catch them by surprise. It also made the enemy soldiers more cautious, with their heads always glancing upwards towards them.

So not only could the enemy not act on any mistake the Ambalian soldiers made but now they had to keep several soldiers on the lookout just in case Aedan's group decided to try and sneak up on them. Effectively, Jedrek's flight of four with little to no bolts left has made a noticeable impact on the skirmish at large. Something that in the end would make Aedan feel better once the night was over.

Despite these outcomes, it was still a dire situation to be in. The ploy had its drawbacks. if the enemy gets reinforced by another hunter unit, Aedan and his comrades would have to retreat at once — and that's only assuming they manage to spot them early enough to allow such a retreat in the first place. Should the enemy catch them by surprise, their ability to retreat safely would be reduced to a point where fighting to the bitter end would be preferable.

Fortunately, for the rest of the battle, there was little additional activity for the most part. At the very least, it seemed that way to Aedan who was lost in his own thoughts. He just wasn't "there" for the rest of the incident; the details of all of it would simply slip through his mind. Though after a couple of minutes — or an hour for all Aedan could know — Jedrek finally gave the order to depart, and they left without another thought. The skirmish itself by that timed had run out of steam, and the two sides silently conceded the arena — for now.

By the time they had already landed, only then was Aedan coming to his senses. He had missed just about everything said during their flight back. Though, they were coincidentally given the time off to rest and refit as everyone tried to figure out exactly what in Hagsmire was going on. Aedan didn't mind the break, though, except for the fact they were to remain on alert at all times. That part of the order he somewhat shrugged off, he was too distracted by other things to fret over the possibility of another mission.

For the rest of the night, and early into the day, Aedan zoned out completely. His mind could not tear away from the issue that plagued him relentlessly. It wasn't his near-death experience that shattered him, it was the death of that other Spotted Owl that he had killed that harassed his conscience so badly.

That owl is gone because of me. Aedan grieved. It was impossible for him to justify its death — no, it wasn't just death, it was cold-blooded murder, Aedan declared to himself.

The common excuse used by soldiers to justify killing would be something along the lines of "it's either him or me" or, "it's the right thing to do". But Aedan knew none of that means squat. It was only a delusion to escape the reality of the damage they had done not only to the other but to anyone in relation to that owl. The horrors of war could not be written off so easily as the legends had so enthusiastically done.

It became even harder for Aedan to think about as he now realized that the enemy Spotted Owl likely had nothing personal against the Ambalians. Likely, since it was its first combat sortie, he was dragged along into the fray because the Ambalians had gotten involved in the Silverveilian Civil War. Maybe, there was always the slim chance that the other organization thought what the Ambalians were doing was a direct act of hostilities towards their group, and decided to respond with an attack of their own. That Spotted Owl was doing nothing but trying to survive, much like Aedan himself was doing, that enemy would likely be just as traumatized as Aedan should he have lived to that point.

Aedan pressed his wings to his face, unable to let go of what he has done.

How does an owl live with that? Killing another without even the slightest of regret? How in the world did Soren in the legends deal with it?

Aedan's thoughts raced over to the legends he had been so eager to read. He recalls how the small group Soren had created had encountered several owls from St. Aegolius and fought them off successfully with the help of the two eagles from Ambala. Soren demonstrated no regret, no remorse for killing one of them — with his talons of all things! Yet he would go on living, as usual, his mind not looming at what he was capable of doing to another owl.

Soren must've believed that killing that one owl was justified, somehow evaluating that that owl he had killed was not equivocal on a moral level. That by killing that owl, he had somehow done something good.

But what has Aedan done right by killing this young, nearly innocent Spotted Owl? What proof does he have that this owl does not equate to his own moral position? What even was their enemy fighting for? There was no way they were just hireclaws and criminals, this owl was too young to be either thing. He could've been conscripted, but how does that change anything? No matter how Aedan wanted to look at it, this owl died too early and too discriminately to be considered a "bad" owl.

That's just the problem, Aedan realized, the legends always portray the wars as a matter of good and bad; the righteous against the unjust. But never owl against owl, Spotted Owl against Spotted Owl, youngling against youngling. How can such a conflict be justified to begin with?

Aedan's thoughts quickly shifted over to all the owls that had perished over the northwestern-most portion of Ambala. Did any of them know what they were fighting for? What were they dying for? More importantly, who was in the right here, or was it no one?

Until the motives of the unknown enemy are revealed, Aedan could never be sure of himself or the Ambalians. His first taste for combat would hardly ever be forgotten, and he could only try and ignore the obvious flaws in his own logic for the time being.

Despite these distractions, not everything was missed by Aedan, and in first hours since he has returned to his de facto home, he had learned much in the present ongoing situation.

The battle Aedan had partaken in was only one of many instances of fighting. There were at least a dozen additional points of engagement at varying times and locations across the entirety of Ambala's northern and western border. Most had mixed results, others were more troubling . . . with loss of territory and the complete destruction of entire combat units. In particular, the Western Front bordering the Canyonlands yielded more losses than victories and vice versa for the Northern Front.

In short, this was an opposing army they were dealing with of similar capabilities, but they did not have an overwhelming advantage like they did against Silverveil should they happen to be the exact same force.

In the hours that have proceeded the first encounter in Northern Ambala, two additional squadrons of roughly twenty fours owls each have been transferred and rebased to Pelli's Hilltop. The region is considered to be a vital one for combat operations in this theatre, with the higher elevation giving departing squadrons a superior advantage when flying out to the combat zone. To lose Pelli's Hilltop would mean losing control over most of the northwestern portion of Ambala. For this reason, it was essential the base be reinforced, and defenses were made in preparation for the inevitable assault.

While it was unlikely the enemy would send small infiltration teams to try and occupy the base while most of the hunters were on the ground or elsewhere, the possibility was considered and most of the quartered trees were given some form of protection in the form of talon-operated crossbows. Not enough to stop a full-fledged onslaught, it would be enough to deter two or three attackers from trying to use their melee advantage and corner the grounded hunters into the hollows.

In terms of supply, the region had a surplus of crossbows (recovered from the loss members of Jedrek's squadron) and a good maintenance group arriving with one of the new squadrons. Bolts were of more concern, however, as they only had enough for approximately three sorties should only one full squadron engage in operations. Their reserves were otherwise limited to only one sortie should every owl partake in a operation, meaning their current combat capability was severely limited. Resupply was questionable at this point, but it would most certainly come by early next night.

Everything else could only be guessed or speculated. Soldiers began to refer to the enemy group as the Shadow Army or the Army of the Shadow Forest. Others called them rebels or simply didn't refer to them at all, otherwise just citing them as the next organization trying to be the "next great power". Other things such as the current trend of the war, what the enemy would do next, and if they would get reinforcements anytime soon we're all questions that could not simply be answered. It became obvious to Aedan that this war was not like the ones in the legends, where there would be some kind of decisive victory for one side that determines the fate of the rest of the conflict. The fighting he had just been through seems . . . pointless, insignificant, and unnecessarily costly.

Even if defending arbitrary borders was worth the sacrifice to those soldiers, it certainly does owlkind no good in the long run.

Aedan began to think of ways to solve the conflict without having to kill another soul again, several ideas instantly popped in his mind, but there was no time to further explore them as the entire area entered into a frenzy— an enemy raiding group had been spotted only minutes out.

Aedan quickly got to his station to await his orders. Though during that time, he couldn't help but think about the ideas he had thought about earlier.

After this, he resolved, I'm going to look for help anywhere I can find it, and I know just the people who can provide it for me.

The area was in a panic, while everyone saw the attack coming, no one was mentally prepared for it. The enemy was a hunter squadron — roughly about twenty owls in size — though they were outnumbered two to one compared to the base, catching most of the Ambalians on the ground played into their favor.

Ambalians that were already airborne tried to thwart the hostile insertion, attempting to keep them away from the main take-off areas. However, it was too no avail, and the enemy unit eventually did press their way into the Ambalian airspace.

Several owls from one of the new squadrons stationed at Pelli's Hilltop had already tried taking off in the climax of the battle, only to be struck down almost immediately by an ever observant enemy.

So effectively, Aedan and his group were stuck on the ground for the time being until something clever was thought up. But Jedrek would've kept them on the ground even if such a problem didn't exist, there was a more thoughtful reason for keeping them in reserve.

Jedrek didn't need much information to already know what the enemy was up to.

"This assault force is way too small to occupy this region," he stated with certainty, there wasn't a shed of doubt in his voice about that statement.

"I think they are trying to stall us — keep us distracted — I can tell due to their present lack of coordination. They must be expecting someone else to arrive, perhaps additional reinforcements to finish us off . . . but, given how they haven't arrived yet, I know exactly where they would be coming from, and where we can fly to intercept them."

Aedan didn't even bother trying to wrap his head around what Jedrek was saying. Military affairs just made his head spend half of the time.

With that being said, Aedan had no reason to object to the plan, and they followed Jedrek closely. Instead of pouncing into the fray above, they immediately descended just shy of the ground, the enemy hadn't blinked an eye towards them, and they avoided contact until they got to "the place" Jedrek had referred to.

It turned out to be one one of the flatter portions of the region, which made low flying through there perfect if one wishes to avoid detection. However, even with the terrain mask, it hardly blocked the wind. And the present wind direction disfavors the attackers likely coming through that area.

This explained how Jedrek immediately knew where and what the enemy was up to, and demonstrates that gambling with the environment can cost the battle just as easily as anything else concerning the principles of warfare.

However, Aedan hadn't expected to uncover what the enemies intentions were with the region. Upon seeing the hostile group, however, it became abundantly clear.

"Coal carriers," Jedrek announced nonchalantly, "seems that rather than capturing our outpost, they wanted to destroy it outright."

Aedan was stunned. "They wanted to burn it to the ground? Why? Don't they know many innocent owls live in hollows all across the region?"

Damien interjected, "That doesn't matter to them Aedan, they just want to get through us and be done with it, we'd be the same way."

Aedan was grimaced by the words, but he knew that what Damien had said was true.

There was no additional action following the observations. When they had risen above the treeline to get a better look at what else the half-dozen group of coal carriers comprised of, the enemy group had immediately turned tail and retreated. Knowing that they were incapable of dealing with a flight of hunters without additional support.

While it was seen as a preferable alternative to having the entire region up in flames, Damien secretly yearned to have managed to pick them off. However, Jedrek was insistent about avoiding the engagement.

"Wasting bolts on some helpless owl just carrying coals is not worth it, repelling them back is all that needs to be done."

By the time they had returned, the battle was over. The enemy retreated to count their dead and fight another night. It was yet another successful repulsion for the Ambalians, but it could hardly be considered a victory. The loss of slightly over a half-dozen owls only came to reveal what would come to be the everlasting nature of this war.

Still, it has only been slightly less than a full day after the start of hostilities, and the enemy's entire war strategy so far has been an unrelenting assault on every position the Ambalians had neighboring to The Barrens and The Canyonlands. To a large extent, if their goal was to conquer Ambala and its inhabitants than they had failed miserably.

However, as Aedan began his landing approach, he couldn't but think about how drastically different the outcomes were so far. Silverveil was overrun very quickly, while Ambala hardly took a scratch, by the end of the next day, Ambala's conscripts would be mobilized, and most forces would be allocated to their newly assigned positions.

So if the enemy had come here hoping for a victory with an attack like that, then they had another thing coming.

Still, Aedan knew he was too optimistic, especially as he finally settled down to sleep.

Given how the raid happened during daytime, he was forced to sleep during the earlier hours of nighttime, and from then he would likely go about to meet up with some old individuals he needed to see.

Convincing Jedrek shouldn't be that hard, Jedrek was aware of Aedan's now recently developed close ties with the owl known as "Eglantine" and the idea of requesting for Guardian support wasn't a far-fetched one either.

Despite the set plans and recent successes, Aedan couldn't sleep. He couldn't help but stare out of the hollow, wherein the regions beyond him the sky seemed to catch on fire in a blaze of glory.

However, Aedan knew it wasn't the sky that was on fire.

-(-)-

*Bonus*

?

Unknown

Evaluations/A New Friend

Day 3-4

Unsurprisingly, the moment I woke up the next night I was accepted into the appraisal program, which is often considered to be one of the most important tests a Tyto will have to take if they ever wish to serve in a good position here.

It hardly was a surprise, but I can secretly tell Erwin was not happy about my acceptance into it. Though, he hardly let it get to the better of him, which I don't blame him for. Why should he have to care about some young, demanding Barn Owl that is insisting he is a hireclaw so he can fight? I know for certain I wouldn't, but his indifference towards me best demonstrates how most others would view me; well, until later of course.

I spent most of my third night here doing evaluations, almost sixteen full hours of activities and test just to see where my skills were, and if I had anything to offer to these owls. Topics varied, some were knowledge-based, such as navigation and weather interpretation; other tests were physical, such as melee combat and flight endurance.

It should come as no surprise that in all these tests I hardly made a favorable impression. One of the most humiliating of which was the claw-striking exercise to see how much penetration one could achieve with their bare talons. The results were simply pathetic, and I didn't even need to think that for myself, as the Tyto that was evaluating me had already come to that conclusion the moment I made my approach towards the dummy target — a recently killed-off crow (yes, yes, I know . . . I think the thoughts about it distracted me quite severely, but I don't think that was much of an excuse at the time).

"Oh come on boy!" The observing Lesser Sooty Owl had whinged, always finding something to complain about in my posture and approach.

This was my third attempt at trying to demonstrate to the observer that I can perform a "powerful thrust" with my claws towards a decaying corpse. It was a sickening practice, but it got the point across even to a young mind like me: fighting talon-to-talon was not a clean experience. For me, it was just too difficult to accept that fact.

This is also ignoring the fact that my left claw was still somewhat injured, but I learned to get over it quickly. Exhibiting weakness would hardly help me in this situation. Accepting that pain was temporary was the only remedy I had to get through it.

As one can tell, I wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but I knew questioning the exercise also would yield very little. As I had witnessed before.

An older Barn Owl that had gone before me had asked exactly why they were doing this act towards a corpse, to which the observer had demeaned in the worst possible tones.

"If your job is to kill, then you'll be doing plenty of this. You'll never surely know if they're alive or dead, so you got to be prepared to strike even corpses, so get used to it."

The idea of spending every night killing other owls and mutilating corpses was far from an encouraging thought. But I knew if I didn't impress the higher-ups, then that would be all I would be doing right now — or I would've been dead by the first battle, simple as that.

By the time that Sooty Owl had enough of my "worrying" attempts against that crow corpse and dismissed me immediately. The body was already starting to become disfigured beyond recognition. The stench was actually worse than the sight of it, and truthfully I think that Sooty just kept me around not because he actually wanted to see me do better, but so I could actually smell what a single corpse alone could produce. Perhaps doing so to warn me off of this quest I've endeavored upon, or maybe just to mess with me and destroy my youthfulness.

Whatever his goals with me may have been, it had worked. I would never in my right mind want to be around a body in such a way willingly. The rotting oder never seemed to go away for the rest of that night, reminding me constantly of what I'd be facing if I went down this path.

However, I resolved to keep going, and I think that was where the Sooty Owl had failed to account for. My determination and resolve were unquenchable and I knew I had to get through this, no matter what.

But even with the best of my efforts, I was still no match for the competition.

Trials like these weren't just compared to other recruits, I was compared directly to every other Tyto assigned to these units. Some of whom had years of experience and training, who regarded me as one would expect: a nobody, someone who couldn't possibly get in their way. Instead, they squabbled with each other, with those who more directly challenged their skills.

Competition, needless to say, was fierce, but I'll get into why it was once the topic becomes relevant.

Aside from that, it was an exhausting and unavailing experience. The only thing I could be seen useful for is being an additional body at the enemy for them to chop up. I'd be about as useful as that crow I had struck earlier, that's how things truly looked for me at the time, to be honest.

Oh, and this enemy I keep referring to? Well, we weren't at war yet, but let's just say I had a strong feeling in my gizzard that we would be very soon. And, in a way, most of these Tytos were always expecting to be at war, they were meant for it.

A topic to be elaborated upon for another time. Let's move on.

Looking back upon it, most of these evaluations do not stimulate any fond memories of mine at the moment. There was, however, one particular case I must make mention to.

The late-night hours were just as busy as the earlier instances of time. By then, I was growing more used to the landscape of the rocky fortress, but this evaluation would put my developing knowledge to the test. It was a very simple but dangerous task.

I had to try and keep up with the "instructor" by flying through the narrow ravines. Simple enough from the sounds of it. But we would be flying at high speeds, where our reaction time would prove to the of utmost importance. One wrong move could lead to your wing grazing against the side of the ravine — the worst that could happen from such a mistake would be a severe wing dislocation, which means you'll have a pretty solid greeting with the surface below. Suffice it to say, it was not a task that could be accomplished without taking a risk.

That was when I met him, an individual I would later come to develop a fond friendship with. Though, at the time, he appeared to be nothing more than another somewhat stuck-up instructor that didn't really care about the new guy. It was hard to say if he truly did think this way towards me, but I knew for certain he didn't treat me any differently than the previous owl.

Still, there had to be at least some regard, given the nature of this test and its possible outcomes.

Our flight began very casually, we established our positions and slowly gathered speed. Within seconds it turned into a wild pursuit, I latched on close to him and stayed there, imitating his every move. His wing posture became a good focus point to me, it allowed me to better navigate the gaps with only a marginal room for error.

This Tyto was well versed in flying through enclosed spaces where the wind never reaches. It was, ironically, a natural attributed given to his particular kind of species. Being a Masked Owl, they were experts in such conditions, almost the perfect owl species for the terrain of the canyonlands.

As I would later learn, Masked Owls were utilized extensively during the Pure Ones' crusade against St. Aegolius (which, at the time I was unaware of). Furthermore, it was mentioned in the legends that an owl by the name of Soren had flown against a Pure One Masked Owl in these very ravines I was flying in now. It came as no surprise to later find out that the Masked Owls were commonly referred to as Cave Owls. Which, needless to say, was a fitting name for their attributes.

It was indeed difficult to keep up with the skilled flyer, he knew this section of the ravine quite well in contrast to me who knew very little. It was a vacant area, typically only used for training and exercises. There were many parts of the canyonlands like that, though there was the occasional forge inside the inner parts of certain caves located in the region. Only the main portion of the canyons had any inhabitants, which demonstrates just how concentrated we were.

Every turn had to be done steeper as time went on. Flight corrections had to be done within seconds to adjust for even the smallest of changes. Every feather on my wings was intricately used to achieve desired results, and so far I was doing well. It turned out to be far easier than I had first thought, it only required some dedication and focus to accomplish.

However, I was caught by surprise by what my instructor did next.

I can't exactly explain how he did it, but it looked almost as if he skimmed as close as he could on the left wall and then banked sharply to the right, managing to turn completely around and fly the way we came. I was too transfixed by him to realize why he had done so.

Looking ahead of me, the wall of the ravine seemed to close in towards me — it only took me a moment to realize what was happening.

At roughly the same time, I reacted by pulling straight up as fast as possible just before I collided with the rough surface. It proved to be successful, thanks to a variety of factors. One thing I took note of immediately was my usage of the alula — a portion of feathers used for slow-speed control and landing. It was the little things that counted.

By the time I was flying upwards, I was grazing the wall with only about an inch of separation, too little to actually flap my wings. I quickly ran out of speed, banked over, and flew back towards the Masked Owl who had watched the entire maneuver.

For the first time, he decided to compliment me on the performance. "Good reactions, you were very well composed for your first flight through these crevices."

In reality, this wasn't the first time I had flown through these ravines, but for the most part that was a true statement.

I didn't really exchange much dialogue with him, but he did offer a brief smile towards me. I don't know if he truly meant what he said, but he was at least somewhat impressed with the fact I managed to make a clean response despite my tender age. I still wonder to this day if that had any impact on the impression I gave off.

But as I would come to find out, how I impressed this owl mattered little to the grand scheme of things.

The following night, I awoke in anticipation of our assignment scheduling — which would mark the conclusion to our evaluations. It was a brief period of time where the leaders of each unit would discuss and ultimately determine which Tyto should be advanced, demoted, or assigned. For me, these owls would have to decide on what unit I should start out with. Given their lack of knowledge, I would imagine there to be a lot of uncertainty in the decision-making process.

The area we were to rally at was yet another unremarkable vacant ravine with little to no sign of life. Roughly a hundred Tytos quickly filed in over the course of an hour. The leaders seemed to assemble at one portion of the area, with everyone else gathered at the other.

I stood alone for the duration of the event. I wasn't there to make friends, nor was I there to figure out exactly what was going on. But through an observant ear, I managed to put together some helpful information.

There were three units, in particular, everyone were talking about. Unit D, or derogatorily called the Delinquents was the unspecialized unit filled with owls that do not have any skills to provide for the more advance units. They are often considered a reservist force due to the nature of the Tytos living here (which will be explained later). Most Tytos seeking to serve started out at this position until they gained a desirable trait, some would stay here until the very end of their careers.

Unit C, or sometimes joked as the Chawlets were a smaller section of Tytos that had some form of skill or knowledge above the average owl but weren't any better at combat. They filled a more specialized, non-combat roles, such as weather interpretation and healing. It was a more desirable unit to be in, but not for those seeking glory.

Unit B, however, is a unit one only gets into if they're special. They are arguably one of the most skilled and combat effective squadrons on the entire continent, surpassing even the Guardians in certain categories. Only the best get into this unit, typically those who have actual combat experience or have very impressionable flight potential.

They are sometimes referred to as the Bashers in reference to their origins. Though, throughout their existence, they will garner several different names in recognition of their abilities.

That competition I had mentioned earlier were all striving to get accepted into Unit B at all cost. To be a Basher was about as exciting as being a Guardian of Ga'Hoole, it required absolute servitude and commitment to be apart of such a formation. Even for those who were ready for it, it was not for them to decide.

The opportunity still presented itself, however, as the Bashers were down two owls. One of which, as word had it, had retired and ended its career abruptly. The other was more controversial . . . as the Tyto had been one of the four commanders of the Basher unit.

It wasn't quite known what had happened, but supposedly the Tyto had disappeared without warning, which was a strange occurrence apparently. As most owls would inform their unit of their departure, even if they were planning to live elsewhere. Rumors were circulated all throughout the event, but I hardly paid attention to them.

The significance of this has to do with the fact that these four — now three — commanders were responsible for all the assignments of each owl into new units. So in the end, it would matter little what the instructors think of the owl, what it really comes down to is what these commanders think of you.

They weren't some inexperienced rybs either, they were all battle-hardened Tytos of different backgrounds and philosophies. It was almost remarkable that at one point, the Bashers had commanders that could cover every subject. That possibility has vanished, however, with the disappearance of the aforementioned owl.

That owl had been from the Northern Kingdoms, had taught the unit Krakish, and offered several other training practices from its experiences in the Glauxspeed division. I could never really find out what else made this owl special, but it was a sad disappearance for them, that was for certain.

One owl I had already met, Erwin, was ironically enough also a commander of this elite formation. Unlike his counterparts, he was born just shy of The War of the Ember. He served in the original Bashers unit of the Kingdom of Tyto with his mentor, before being forced to flee to avoid persecution. He now is considered a stable example of a Tyto who has been wrongfully convicted by the Guardians as a Pure One sympathizer. Since then, he now is an avid supporter for the Tyto liberation movement.

Another Barn Owl commander, a Sooty Owl, was actually formerly a Guardian of Ga'Hoole. His skills in weather interpretation and colliering makes him a useful asset for training and flying through rough conditions. His knowledge of the Guardian tactics and training practices were also well regarded. Other than that, he was a quiet owl who said little and would continue to remain that way throughout his career here.

The last of the commanders was that scarred Tyto alba whose very appearance showed nothing but raw experience and history. Of all the Tytos, or even all the owls of this army, there was no one more infamous than him. Rumors were all owls had to imagine his legacy, the legacy of a legend. Some say he was a rebel against the Pure Ones during the times of the legends, other say he was one of the most successful hireclaws of the Southern Kingdoms. There were a few who believed he fought alongside the heroes known as Soren and Coryn along with the rest of the Guardians during the final battles against Nyra and her Pure Ones.

Others, more sternly believe the possibility that he was, in fact, a Pure One himself that managed to live through it all. No one could possibly know, as he would never talk about his past. To ask such a question was also seen as highly disrespect, as not all Tytos were Pure Ones back in those days. Still, the possibility was there, and many marveled at the fact.

There was much more I could've dissected from the crowd had it not been for the sudden announcement. Introductions were brief and the names of newly assigned or transfer owls filled the air from that one Sooty Owl that had instructed me to attack a lifeless crow. I hadn't been paying attention to the names in detail, but it was a modest list. There were some sighs of relief or clamouring of excitement. These owls were being assigned to Unit C, and as I had predicted, I was not to be among them. I think my experience here so far has made that quite clear.

When owls assigned to Unit D were announced, I waited silently for my name to be heard. But alarmingly it never came. The possibility that I had been rejected from service entirely was indeed possible. To be rejected would be humiliating, but I did have the excuse that I was too young for this kind of affairs anyhow. I didn't know how to feel about it at the time, but my gizzard wasn't quite ready to hear what was coming next.

"The two replacements required for Unit B has been determined after much consideration. The named owls will integrate into the unit effective immediately after the announcement. The two replacements are Gowyr and Byron."

I hadn't the slightest idea what I was thinking when that happened, my gizzard had grew still. My wings seemed to lock up, in some kind of yeep-ish state. I wouldn't be able to see the completely dumbfounded and hideous glares of my counterparts who had worked all their lives to get to the occupation I just stole from then. I never would hear or see the furious rantings of Erwin and his utter disapproval of my now acquired position. Even the announcer, who knew little of the owls behind the names, seemed question himself once he realized that I was one of the owls that had been named.

It would not matter as to what happened next, as I had lost consciousness before I could bear to witness it. A sudden faint was my first response to the announcement, I cared little about what followed. I believe my last thought before blacking out was:

What have I gotten myself into?

Sometimes later . . . early daylight (speculative)

When I finally came about, I was in a different hollow than the previous one I had resided in. It was not alone, however, as that Masked Owl that had been my instructor in the ravine flight was sprawled out in his own nest, obvious to the fact I had recovered from my earlier collapse.

It took me a moment to reorient myself, but when I finally did I decided to make my presence known to this owl and ask what I was wondering to know.

"Where am I and who are you? Have we already met?" The owl rapidly twisted his head towards me, before blinking. It took him a moment to realize it was me speaking. Upon the realization, he introduced himself.

"Indeed we have, not formally of course. I'm the other owl that had been assigned to the Bashers, Gowyr. We're sharing a hollow for now since we are now officially apart of the unit."

The memory of the announcement flooded back into my mind all at once. He seemed to notice my distress and tried to calm me down before I got riled up.

"Relax pal, you'll be just fine, I'm sure they had a very good reason to chose you over the others."

I still couldn't comprehend the decision, but I decided to ask Gowyr for comparison. "Why do you think you got in over the others then?"

He churred, "Oh, I did the smart thing, went to the Gateway to Hoole for a couple of moons. Add a year of training here in the mix and I think I will be a fine addition to the unit."

He looked at me before continuing.

"As for you, I don't know. It's best not to worry about it, all you need to do is put all of your energy into the training. I'll help you every step of the way."

I was somewhat reassured by the statement despite the lack of substantiation. It was a baseless claim, but a well-meaning one. For a young owl, I didn't have many to look up to, but now I've found the one. An older, experience, and talent Masked Owl who didn't seem at all bothered by me and my pestering. In fact, I think he enjoyed the attention I was giving him, he always must've wanted to be a mentor.

I would come to find out that Gowyr actually has a notable heritage. His mother, Gwynneth, was the daughter of a Rogue Smith known as Gwyndor. Gwyndor was one of the few important characters to be mentioned in the legends during the times of Coryn, but he ultimately would perish just after the final battle against the Pure Ones. Gowyr takes this reputation to heart and gizzard, and has dedicated himself to be just like his grandfather — an unsung hero. If there was any good owls I could say I've served with, he was one of them.

It was impossible for me to avoid trying to uncover more about this place. I wanted to know what he was serving this place for, and why he wouldn't just stay at the Gateway to Hoole and live out the rest of his life in luxury.

He responded, "Because unlike the Guardians, we intend on solving the world's problems, not perpetuating it. Owls of S'yrthghar should be allowed to be free and independent regardless of ideology and background. I serve not because I want to attack the Guardians, but because I want to defend these freedoms from those who wish to undermine it. I fight for the Tytos because we must ensure the survival of our species, and there is no evil in doing so. I will not be ridiculed by the Guardians as a Pure One for seeking to find a solution to a very real problem. Killing extremist Tytos in droves does nothing to help our situation, and until the Guardians realize that, we are — and always will be — their enemy."