"So that is how you're going to stand?"

"Absolutely!"

The shrill and obviously irritated voice stung Soren's ear slits. He rolled his eyes. "Otulissa, we're not supposed to spend our storm flights in total silence, analyzing every single raindrop and movement of our talons."

"Yes, we are," she shrieked. "You and everyone else guffaw and screech and sing so loudly that no one can get a single shred of information out of the scuppers and gutters and baggywrinkles like they're supposed to."

"You mean you can't." Soren eyed her pointedly.

"Well can you?" she asked in a smirking tone that she did not even bother concealing.

"Yes." She blinked in surprise.

"Oh, really?"

"Of course. For starters, it was a dry front anyway. The moisture from the Northern Kingdoms hasn't quite reached the Sea of Hoolemere yet, so it was mostly electrical with a good deal of wind and decaying debris blowing around."

She snorted. "Anyone could have figured that out."

Soren rolled his eyes again. "The wind was consistently blowing about six leagues per hour (around twenty miles per hour) with gusts up to twelve LPH (forty MPH)..."

"Oh, come one you two, stop it!" Gylfie swept in quite randomly, apparently bored of watching them bicker. "Otulissa, Cleve is over there waiting for you and, Soren, we're waiting for you to eat. Twilight is starting to complain and sing about dying of starvation."

Soren twisted his head around and saw a very impatient Twilight releasing a number of complaints upon poor Digger's head. Digger was quietly eating a Tobacco Worm.

Otulissa literally lit up before walking towards a male Spotted Owl, about her age and just as nerdy. Soren rolled his eyes — wow, they were getting some exercise. About a moon earlier, Cleve of Firthmore had popped up at the Tree, hoping for extra education that the Glauxian Brothers could not give him. He was supposed to return to his Firth in a few moons, and had been warmly accepted by the entire Tree. Otulissa and he had hit it off immediately, even though Cleve hated fighting and Otulissa craved it.

His crush on Otulissa (which was returned, he always argued when Twilight, Digger, or Gylfie brought it up to tease him) had long since diminished, as had hers. Their relationship was platonic friendship and reduced to slightly heated bickering whenever Otulissa was bored. Normally, it involved anything Weather or Colliering related.

Despite Otulissa's confident predictions that she would be placed in Strix Struma's Navigation Chaw, by some odd turn of events Ezylryb had chosen her for Weather Interpretation and Colliering. Soren had also been tapped for the same one, but unlike Otulissa he was neither astonished nor dismayed. After the battle with the Pure Ones over a year before, he had felt a connection with fire that everyone saw.

Then he thought of Kludd. Kludd in that battle, Kludd trying to kill him, Kludd…a darker image, one his own mind had somehow managed to concoct in sleepless or daymare ridden days flashed across his vision.

"Soren!" Twilight bellowed from across the room, jerking him out of his thoughts. Soren silently thanked his friend for the excellent timing. "Get over here or Digger will start on your food."

Digger eyed the larger owl crossly but not unkindly. "Why are you bringing me into this? You're the one who's threatening to pummel him if he doesn't get over here."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Soren churred. "Just don't eat my vole!"

It was midmorning and the sun was shining as brightly as anything. It bounced off the fairly still waves below straight into Soren's eyes, which were apparently deciding not to sleep that day. He hissed quietly as the shard stabbed him, annoyed. The water could be so cruel. So could the sun.

A daymare had woken him, a rather unpleasant one. He had had them before, at St. Aggie's: ones where he saw Kludd rejecting him over and over again, ones where his parents didn't care at all and simply went on with their lives, ones where they killed Gylfie right in front of him, holding him back so he couldn't do anything but shriek and weep. The only ones that weren't so terrible were the dreams where he died. Starvation. Torture. Flecks. They were miserable in the moment, — mostly because he had lived through all those things — but disturbingly peaceful and lovely at the end. He would always be with his parents and Eglantine in them, back in their hollow, innocent and happy.

Then came the daymares after the Battle of Fire and Ice — the one against the Pure Ones. They were guilt-ridden and weighed on him more than anything he had ever felt. He would kill Kludd, as many as ten times per dream, but it was filled with hatred and malice. Then he would kill the High Tyto. Right after Surtur had killed Ezylryb. Every once and a while he would die, too. Once again, that was the only highlight.

And then, of course, the daymares that tormented him now. He had never even seen the dreadful things that woke him up with a start — and occasionally a shout. But they still happened. His family would die over and over and over again. Kludd would slaughter them in every way possible, in ways that he had never thought imaginable. Other times, Soren would be Kludd — dreams never do make sense, do they? — and he wouldn't be able to stop himself, even though he was begging to stop. Sometimes Kludd would kill them, and he would watch, powerless to stop him because for some odd reason he was being pinned down to the point where he couldn't move. Then he would realize that Kludd had pinned him to the hollow floor with one of his own battle claws, and he was slowly bleeding out, quietly dimming. His mum would say that she loved him, and then it would be over. But he could never see his family afterwards. It wasn't like the other times he had died. And that made it one of the worst.

He had killed them this time. Slowly, drawing out their pain. Soren knew he wasn't himself and that he was really Kludd for some creepy reason, but he still felt the tears pouring down his face. There had been a damp puddle on the floor after he woke up. He had taken the rag he hid in his nest — yes, he knew it was silly. Grown owls didn't sleep in nests, they perched. But he had missed his childhood because the Pure Ones had owlnapped him and he didn't give a racdrop to what anyone thought about him — and soaked up the patch quietly, glancing around to make sure he hadn't woken anyone.

He hadn't.

Soren almost wished he had. There was a part of him that wanted to talk and wanted a shoulder to cry on. He should've been past it. His family had been dead for around a year and a half, why was it suddenly bothering him now? It wasn't like it was any sort of anniversary or anything. Why would anyone have an anniversary for this sort of thing? It's ridiculously depressing.

He wasn't depressed. He had been, but he was happy now. Well, not happy, per say (that was a little bit difficult when your brother was the world's most evil mastermind and your entire family was dead) but he was content enough.

Soren didn't like being stuck awake, though. Especially since he wasn't doing anything that was the slightest bit productive. There was a lull in their studies with the flight earlier that evening being the last assignment for the next few days, so he didn't have any books — academic or otherwise — floating around the room.

He supposed he could fly down to the library. Guardians were quiet — in fact they were trained to be quiet — and Soren was quieter than most. He figured there was time to pop down there and grab a book without anyone noticing.

As he flew down, circling the pleasantly curving limbs of the Great Tree, Soren wondered whether or not he would get in trouble for this. It wasn't like there was a rule against flying in the day or even going down into the library, it was just that the library attendant was gone. Which meant he couldn't really check one out and go back up to the hollow he shared with the Band.

Hmm. Soren pursed his beak at the thought, right before entering the extremely large area with more books than he thought existed in the entire universe. I'll have to stay down here, then. That might get dicey. He shrugged. I'll just have to be extra quiet.

That really was quite a task, especially since talons did not lend helpfully to one's attempts at silence.

Soren walked over to the fantasy section — he couldn't help himself, he felt like a child in the moment — and ran his starboard talons through the air, mentally going over every book title. He loved The Battle of the Ice Claws, but graphic depictions of battle did not appeal to him in the moment.

He reached the section labeled, "The Others." Their books were always quite fascinating — odd, to be sure, but fascinated — about themselves much of the time. Many of their characters walked on two legs, impractical, but still astonishing nonetheless. Soren had read several of them already: Alice in Wonderland, — a bit cheesy but a pleasant enough story, quite literally a dream — The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, — a loyal group of friends, but, once again an actual dream — The Hobbit, — now that had been a different one, both compelling and heart-wrenching at the same time, although he didn't really want something heart-wrenching at the moment — and then there was…

"Soren, what are you doing down here?"

Soren spun around, surprised, with his beak gaping open. "Uh, Ezylryb. Hi. Um, I was just, uh, you know, um…" he trailed off. Making excuses was not his strong suit.

"If you're looking for fantasy, I just finished this one." Soren stared at his mentor, a bit surprised. "The Glauxian Brothers delivered it a week or so ago. In fact, you'll be the second one who has read it." He walked over, depositing the book into Soren's talons. He glanced down at the title: King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

"This isn't usually your style, is it?" He eyed his teacher/mentor/father curiously, wondering what had possessed the elderly Whiskered Screech to even open the book, much less read it. He normally scorned such things.

Ezylryb sighed. He was trying to be cagey, but Soren was not buying it. "Soren, I'm not stupid. Neither are you. Your brain is bothering you lately — whether or not you are planning on admitting it — and I am simply trying to help."

Soren blinked at him. "By reading a book that you find an absolute bore?"

"No! And it was actually decent," he muttered, avoiding the Barn Owl's gaze and looking a bit sheepish.

"Really?" That was something he would never hear out of Ezylryb's beak.

"Yes, but that's not the point here." he waved his port wing, as if trying to brush the thought out of the air. Soren had been frustrated by unpleasant dreams recently — whether or not the lad said anything, Ezylryb could always tell. He wanted to help, but Soren proved somewhat averse towards his attempts. Ezylryb didn't blame him. He would have acted the same way. Glaux, he had acted the same way.

In lieu of that, he had to come up with something absolutely irresistible. Thankfully, it had fallen right into his talons. "You know that forest fire you deduced out on the flight last evening?"

Soren nodded. Its existence had made perfect sense, what with the dry front from the Copper Rose Rain before the Silver Rain, and the subsequent electrical storm. He had even seen a slight, amber glow coming from the area — although it was highly possible he was imagining it.

"Since we have a quick break coming up, I technically can't assign any homework. But that doesn't mean I won't be working on my own experiments…which may require some time in Ambala and a bit of assistance from an experienced student." His eyes twinkled.

"Will Otulissa be there?" Soren whispered, his tone seeming as though her presence would determine whether or not he would choose to participate. Ezylryb knew that wasn't true; Soren enjoyed the banter with Otulissa. It was really more of a cover-up disguising their friendship.

He shook his head anyway. "She's going to be busy with Cleve and more than likely won't even notice that we've gone. Or that there is a fire in progress."

"Then absolutely!" Soren loved the feeling of fire in his talons and the beauty of its danger. "You know I would still go, even if Otulissa was going too, right?"

Ezylryb churred. "Of course, Lad. Of course."