Omensent: Birth of a Dragon Lord

by Barry Gibbons

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  Snowfeather's arrival brought new life to Damion's spirit, and quickly brought him out of his depression. The loneliness he had been feeling vanished as the beautiful owl filled the desperate void he had been feeling in his heart. When he was not busy with his studies, or training with Sly or Damarius, they would spend most of their time together in the hollow, or sitting in the vast canopy of the willow, talking for hours on end.

  Everything seemed to quiet down after Snowfeather's abrupt arrival. The months seemed to fly by, and Damion excelled in his training and studies. He memorized almost every book in Damarius's extensive library, and his magic had developed to the point that he could perform even the most difficult of tasks with ease. Only hours after learning how to create an illusion, he was able to produce a mirage so detailed that even the old wizard couldn’t distinguish it from reality. Damion enjoyed this new ability, and had a great deal of fun tormenting the others with illusions of spiders towering six feet tall that burst from closets, or hulking ogres who lurked in the pantries, scaring the wits out of whoever happened to enter.

  Then, one day during his twelfth summer, Damion discovered that he could shift his body into a different form by focusing his magic inward on himself. He discovered this unusual ability by accident. He and Snowfeather were relaxing in the shade of the orchard, trying to stay cool in the muggy summer heat. He had stretched out lazily on a cool patch moss below a fragrant apple tree, and was resting his eyes while Snowfeather perched in the branches above, complaining loudly about the sun's glaring rays and the oppressive heat.

  Damion had just fallen asleep when he was startled awake by the huge owl, who launched himself into the air, seeking the soothing darkness of the hollow, unable to endure the bright sunlight any longer. He watched as the graceful owl flew towards the enormous willow tree, then sat back dreaming of what it would be like to fly. Without realizing he was doing it, he drew in his magic as he pictured himself as a snowy owl, gliding lazily over the valley.

  Suddenly, he didn't feel quite like himself. The sun seemed unnaturally bright, and irritated his eyes, and strange smells and sounds bombarded his senses, nearly overwhelming him. He sat up and stretched, wondering why he suddenly felt so strange. Then he abruptly discovered the reason. Looking at his outstretched arms, he saw long, gleaming white feathers, instead of healthy pink flesh. He quickly looked himself over and was astonished to discover that he had somehow shifted himself into the form of an owl! A snow owl, just like Snowfeather! It took him several moments of thought to figure out what he had done, but after mulling it over, he realized he must have somehow directed his magic inward while daydreaming of flying, and this was the result.

  After a few moments debate, he decided to enjoy his new talent and fly up to the hollow to surprise Snowfeather. He took a deep breath, then leapt into the air, flapping his wings furiously, intending to glide gracefully up to the great willow tree just like he had seen Snowfeather do countless times before. Instead, he immediately crashed to the ground amidst a flurry of feathers. He sat up and shook himself off, realizing there was a lot more to flying than flapping one's wings. He decided to summon Snowfeather to come and instruct him on the finer points of flying. “Snowfeather!” He shouted to the owl silently. “I need you! Come back to the orchard!”

  Snowfeather, sensing the urgency in his master's thought, quickly flew back down to Damion's side. He nearly fell from the branch he had landed on at sight of Damion's new feathered form. “What happened to you?” He asked, his feathers fluffed in surprise.

  “I’m not entirely certain, but it looks as though I have discovered a new use for my magic. One second, I was lying here dreaming of what it would be like to fly, and the next thing I know, I'm an owl, just like you!” He stretched his broad wings. “Can you teach me how to fly?”

  “Well,” The huge owl chirped thoughtfully. “You certainly chose the perfect form in which to learn. And I am a most excellent flier.” He added rather smugly. “It shouldn't take very long to teach you the finer points of flight.” He glided over to Damion’s side. “Spread your wings, like this.” He demonstrated by spreading his own wings wide. “Now, fan your tail feathers. They act as rudders, and help you to control and stabilize your flight.”

  Damion experimented spreading his wings and tail feathers, then turned back to Snowfeather. “Okay. Now what?”

  “Now, you fly.” The huge snow owl leapt into the air, circled the clearing once, then returned to his master's side. “See? There's nothing to it.”

  Damion hopped onto a nearby rock, then up to a low hanging branch. Looking around, he paused, having second thoughts. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”

  Snowfeather flew up to his side. “Nonsense. You’re not going to back out now. You wished to learn how to fly. Here is your chance.”

  Damion sighed. “Okay. I guess I can give it a try.” He drew a deep breath, then leapt into the air, flapping his wings wildly. He immediately crashed beak first to the ground.

  Snowfeather burst into a fit of squawking laughter, nearly falling from his perch. “You’re trying too hard. You need to relax and let your instincts take over. It will come to you naturally.”

  Damion’s second attempt was a little more successful. He managed to glide about a dozen yards before crashing headlong into an apple tree, sending Snowfeather into another fit of squawking laughter.

  Finally, on his third attempt, he caught an updraft and soared easily up into the air, where he began to circle the clearing, nearly overwhelmed with the sudden sense of freedom that seemed to envelop him. Soaring high into the air above, he effortlessly rode the winds, letting all his cares and worries slip away. He continued to climb higher and higher, until he could see the entire valley below. He gazed down at the small valley below, amazed at the ease at which he could glide on the gentle air currents. Once he relaxed his body, instinct kicked in, and he was no longer forced to concentrate on his movements. Time seemed to have no meaning as he continued to glide high above the secluded valley, soaking in every detail.

  He had just started to fly over to explore the closest neighboring valley when he heard Snowfeather squawk a sudden warning. “Damion! Look out! Above you!”

  Looking up, Damion spotted a large, fierce-looking eagle only a few dozen feet above him, poised for an attack. He twisted to one side, narrowly avoiding the eagle's razor-sharp talons, then began to panic as he watched the huge bird bank sharply to renew its attack.

  Instinct suddenly kicked in, and he tucked his wings to his side, and dove as fast as his streamlined body would allow. The eagle banked once more in pursuit, screeching in outrage. He dove for the treetops of the orchard, weaving in and out of the canopy to slow the eagle's pursuit, then crash landed hard in some bushes. He shifted back into his own form and climbed to his feet, infuriated by the unprovoked attack, and immediately spotted the raptor circling overhead, still searching for its would-be victim.

  Drawing his magic, he sent an invisible pulse of energy at his attacker, striking the eagle full in chest. The bird disappeared in a sudden puff of feathers, which slowly began to drift towards the ground.

  Damion fell to his knees, out of breath and shaken by the sudden attack. He had never had such a dangerous encounter before, and knew it was only by his familiar’s last second warning, and pure luck, that he was still alive.

  Snowfeather quickly appeared at his side, breathing hard and looking disheveled. “Damion! Are you okay? I thought that eagle had you for sure!”

  He drew a deep steadying breath as he tried to calm down. “I’m fine.” He said aloud. “Just a little shook up. Thanks for the warning. I'd have been a goner if it wasn't for you.” He rose to his feet and brushed himself off. “Why did it attack me like that? Did I do something to provoke it?”

  “When you're a snow owl, you need not provoke an eagle for it to attack. Snow owls and eagles are mortal enemies.” The huge owl ruffled its feathers in disgust. “They attack us
whenever they encounter one of us, usually killing us in the attack.”

  “Why?” He asked, shocked.

  “Instinct.” Snowfeather replied, flying up to land gently on his master’s shoulder. “It is in their nature to attack us. It is one of the risks that you take when you are a snow owl.”

  Damion sighed, shaken up by the entire event. He really didn't enjoy being attacked without warning or provocation. He turned and slowly made his way back to the cottage, glancing uneasily at the sky, searching for any more circling raptors.

  Damarius was ecstatic over Damion's new ability, and for the next several months, they tested his new talent without any other complications, except for one unexpected event.

  It was an early autumn morning, and Damarius, Damion, and Snowfeather were gathered in the clearing in the center of the orchard. The old wizard was having him practice shifting into different forms, while the huge snowy owl watched from a nearby tree branch. Damion had just shifted into the form of a sleek black panther, one of his favorite forms in which to assume, and was attempting to shift back, when he suddenly sneezed, throwing off his concentration. He stopped mid-shift, not quite human, not quite feline.

  Snowfeather burst into a fit of uncontrollable squawking laughter at the sight of Damion covered in sleek black fur, with a long whipping tail protruding from his backside, and long whiskers extending from a cat-like nose. Damarius did his best to hide his amusement, but failed, collapsing into his own fit of wheezing laughter.

  Damion was so angry and embarrassed over his mistake, it took him nearly an hour to calm himself enough to shift back to normal. Every time he attempted to draw in his magic, Snowfeather would burst into another fit of mocking laughter, breaking his concentration. When he was finally able to resume his own form, he forbid the huge owl from attending any more lessons with he and Damarius, knowing full well the snickering bird would ignore him.

  After the event with the eagle, Lady Skie forbid Damion from shape shifting unless Damarius was there to supervise. She also forbid him from venturing outside of the valley, much to his disappointment. He argued that if anything were to happen, he could shift forms and escape, or use his magic to defend himself, but she steadfastly refused, explaining he was still much too young to be out exploring on his own. He begged and pleaded for several days without success, then finally gave up, and began spending more time hanging around Sly.

  Lord Quickhand was an odd little fellow. Though he was reputed to the one of the best swordsmen on the continent, a great deal of his time was spent lounging around Damarius's ale kegs, or stretched out on a pile of cushions snoring loudly. He seemed quite content on lying around, drinking himself into insensibility. Sometimes, he would sit next to the swift flowing stream with a long wooden pole, ale tankard in hand, cursing loudly at the fish that were refusing to take the bait that dangled from a small hook on the end of a piece of twine. But most of the time, he would give up after an hour or so, breaking his makeshift pole over one knee in disgust, and retreat into the cottage to linger near the ale keg.

  After much coaxing and prying, Damion learned that Sly hailed from the port city of Sierra, and had spent much of his life traveling to far away continents as a bodyguard for various merchant princes. His skills as a master swordsman brought a great demand for his services, and those who could afford to hire him had little to worry about the safety of their cargo, knowing with Sly watching over them, their valuables would be well protected.

  On occasion, when the little man had imbibed a bit too much of Damarius's ale, he would regale Damion with adventures he had experienced while traveling through distant kingdoms, or sailing the wild seas, thousands of leagues from their quiet little valley. Damion was always enthralled by the tales of battles and narrow escapes from hostile forces, and spent a great deal of his spare time daydreaming about having his own adventures. He longed to travel abroad and to see the many sights that awaited him outside of the shelter of the valley, and it soon began to dominate his thoughts. He would fall asleep every night and dream of having his own adventures in far-off lands, using his skills and prowess as a warrior, and his powerful magic, to defeat whatever unspeakable evil he crossed.

  But since Aunt Skie still refused to allow him to travel outside of the protection of the valley, he was forced to be content with his daydreams, though he vowed to himself that one day he would set off on his own adventure, and conquer whatever evil that crossed his path.