by Alex Rey
“Alright,” Ulpheir responded, tipping his body up in an erect position. It was then when he lifted his wings up into the air and blasted himself up toward the hollow. In the process of heading back up into the tree, he curtly called out, “And make sure that I won’t have to pick you up after a really short time—again!”
Each word shocking to Leyoht’s heart, the owlet watched as his father swept back into the hollow. It was while taking sight of this scene when he silently assured, I will.
These two silent words floated in Leyoht’s head like clouds. His ears vibrated when Roseti’s voice rang out to him, crying, “Leyoht! Hi!”
Pleasantly surprised to hear his friend, Leyoht flipped his gaze over toward the source of her voice. Upon doing so, he came to realize Roseti was waving at him from what seemed to be the edge of the horizon.
The sight of her face clouding his vision, Leyoht lifted his wing, submitting a friendly wave in response. Such an action boomed the start of what would soon be a very exciting day for Leyoht.
From that point on, Leyoht would only ask to come inside if he were hungry. Sadly, such a day came to its end when Leyoht asked for his last meal for the day—the meal which came just before his slow nodding to sleep.
--
As images of the day slowly drifted past Leyoht’s mind, Ulpheir and Sahemawia were kept wide awake with thoughts of the new owl and human species. What would these creatures do to them? Were they hostile or hospitable?
Besides the thoughts of the new humans and owls, the two concerned parents heard as a bone-chilling blizzard brushed along the fibers of their tree. Wind and ice sent a chilly bite down the tree’s hollow spine—intoxicating it with freezing temperatures all the while.
Hearing as this gift of nature battered their home, thoughts of the mysterious new creatures drifted from the owls’ minds. The storm had been enough to make them forget. Soon they were all asleep.
That was before the sound of thunder’s clap split Leyoht’s ears. He woke up with a start—and much to his surprise, his parents were still sound asleep. At least it can’t get any louder, he silently assured himself as he released a huge yawn.
Such a silent statement was false; there were plenty of louder noises, he just hadn’t heard them before. He hadn’t any idea what the rupture of a volcano sounds like, or what noise a falling tree made. Leyoht hadn’t any idea—and therefore he didn’t have any right to make such a false statement.
As he struggled at his attempts to find sleep, Leyoht heard as a deafening, chucking noise shook his home by its roots. Only three of these shakes brought an abrupt disappearance to Leyoht’s patience.
“What’s going on?” he snapped, picking himself up on his feet.
Startled by the sound of their son’s anger, both Sahemawia and Ulpheir both awakened, finding themselves in a frustrated mood.
Not even giving Ulpheir the chance to speak, Sahemawia asked with bleary eyes, “Leyoht—what are you doing?”
Trying to answer his mother, Leyoht opened his beak—only to interrupted when the scent of smoke replaced the hollow’s fresh air. Smog clogged and blocked the owls’ lungs, allowing a series of coughing to escape from his beak. “What is this?” he hacked in question.
As both of his parents started coughing, Sahemawia covered her beak with a wing and responded, “I’ve smelled this before!”
“There must be a fire nearby!” Ulpheir explained, his head low to the ground. Barely a single moment of silence had come into place when he called out, “Leyoht! Do as I’m doing!”
Opening his stinging eyes, Leyoht continued to cough when he took a look at his father. Although his vision remained obscured by the smoke, he was able to take notice of a small cloud of fresh air near the bottom of his feet. As a flame of understanding lit up in Leyoht’s mind, he instantly dunked his head low enough for him to breathe.
“Sahemawia!” Ulpheir called out with his head still low to the ground. “I’m going to go out there and see what’s going on!”
“I’m coming with you,” Sahemawia insisted as she moved over to the tree’s opening.
Witnessing as his parents left him in the smoky hollow, Leyoht started to panic. “Wait! Don’t go!” he instinctively demanded.
Unsure of what had happened to his parents, he shot a look over at their nest. In the nest was a white egg—the very one his mother had been protecting for the past few days.
At least there’s something I can do, Leyoht told himself, reaching a talon out for the egg. Mother told me that the egg will die if it’s not kept warm. If neither of my parents can do it, then I’ll have to do it.
A slight imbalance in his footing came as he drew nearer and nearer to the egg. The egg was maybe the size of his chest, but he had to do something to save it!
Things took a negative turn when another shake spread into the hollow. There Leyoht stood on one leg, the other outstretched toward his unborn sibling. Feeling as imbalance took over his stance, the panicked owlet ultimately toppled over his mother’s egg.
While falling, a gasp of fear escaped from Leyoht’s beak—only to be replaced by the sound of cracking. Following these noises, he noticed as a rather sticky substance clung to the bottom of his chest’s feathers. Oh no! he thought.
Picking himself up on his feet, Leyoht closed his eyes and told himself he was experiencing a nightmare. It had to have been a nightmare! On heaven or on hell, there was no way he could have killed his own sibling.
It was then when he opened his eyes, catching sight of a small blob of gunk in the nest. Did—did I kill it? he wondered one last time.
Before he could have found the answer, yet another imbalance came beneath his feet, catching him off guard. But this one was different—stronger than all the others, in fact; strong enough to tip the entire tree over into the sheet of snow.
Leyoht fell into the nest, his head spinning. What was once a wall was now a floor. An enormous thump shook throughout the ground as Leyoht’s head slammed against what he had first thought was a wall.
My parents, he wondered, what happened to them? Hoping to find the answers to his question, he picked himself up on his feet, almost completely forgetting about the crushed mess of what was once an egg. Now he had to find the hollow’s exit. But where is it? he asked himself.
Looking left and right, tried to find the exit—but couldn’t see where it was. It wasn’t until taking a look up when finally his eyes caught the opening. There it is! he exclaimed. Now how do I get through it? If only I could fly!
These thoughts in mind, the flightless owl began to flap his wings in a repetitive motion. He flapped and flapped and flapped, futilely hoping to gain upwards acceleration.
Unfortunately, the momentum he could have made was a tiny push off of his feet. He panted—then tried again several times before finally surrendering to his fatigue. Leyoht murmured through a series of panting, “I—I can’t do it!”
Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Leyoht fell as the tree began to roll, causing him to lose his footing once again. All the while did the hollow’s opening appear to move. His head spinning, the sound of mixed feminine and masculine screeches split Leyoht’s ears.
What was that? the confused owl asked himself while being thrown around in the tree’s interior. Without his intention, Leyoht found himself being thrown through the hollow’s opening—much to his relief and irritation.
Now outside, Leyoht felt as his beak dug into the light-gray snow below. Added to this was the sound of a raging blizzard. Pulling his beak out of the ground, he took notice of the snow’s color and murmured with a start, “What? Why is the snow—”
Without any warning, the sound of moaning split the air. Taking hearing of this moaning, Leyoht wondered, “Who’s there?”
“Y-your father,” the voice responded through a whisper.
“What?” Leyoht shrieked, turning his head over to the sound’s origin. His beak pointing toward his father, Leyoht noticed as the lower half of Ulpheir
’s body remain crushed by their own home. The only appendages Leyoht noticed were his father’s head and wings.
A gasp escaped from Leyoht’s beak when he rushed over to his injured father. This couldn’t have been happening. His dreams were more than mere dreams; they were omens!
It was then when Leyoht realized his mother was nowhere to be seen. That was when he took sight of an huge spot of red snow a small distance away from Ulpheir’s wings. Mother?
The very sight of scarlet-stained snow drew Leyoht’s knees to the ground as his own tears melted the ice below. Already two people have died today. And now my father’s going to die! With so many thoughts and emotions flying through Leyoht’s mind, not even the outside blizzard held enough strength to snap back to reality.
Although it was in Ulpheir’s best interest to spare his breath, he called out to his son, “Leyoht!”
That one word brought Leyoht back.
“I—want you—to take the egg,” through a hoarse whisper. “It is going to—hatch. I know—it will hatch—I know it! You can make it—because you are my only son—and you can overcome this. Make sure you take the egg to—somebody trustworthy!”
Taking a look into his father’s eyes, Leyoht wiped away the tears from his eyes. It was after doing so when he stammered, “B-but the egg’s dead.”
“Then save—y-yourself,” Ulpheir commanded with his final breath. “Go—before—”
Even more tears leaked from Leyoht’s eyes when his father’s lungs lost the strength to breathe. Noticing as Ulpheir’s life drained away into the cool breeze, Leyoht asked of the cold body, “Father? Are you awake?” An icicle of depression pierced through his mind when he picked himself back on his feet.
As a final goodbye to his parents, Leyoht kicked a newly-formed assembly of snow over Ulpheir’s deceased body. Realizing he would never be within his parents’ presence again, Leyoht strode away from them; all the while did he desperately tell himself to move on.
Although it had taken him a while to notice, Leyoht’s pace began to decrease; so remained the case until his feet eventually drew to a complete stop. For what seemed like an eternity did he pause. What was the point of his existence now? Without parents or a sibling, was his life worth saving now?
Releasing a small screech of despair through his beak, Leyoht sprinted back to his parents. He wanted desperately to remain in their presence—to wallow in their non-breathing corpses. It didn’t take many steps for him to trip over his own feet. The result of him tripping caused him to fall over into the snow.
Once tripped, Leyoht wept while silently calling out to Ulpheir, Father—please tell me this isn’t real!
Literally hundreds of thoughts drifted through Leyoht’s mind as he lay down on the icy ground. Such thoughts were ones of anger, confusion, sadness, frustration; the list went on. The main cause of these thoughts’ presence was derived from his thoughts as to why anybody would ever want to do anything so horrible to his home.
Should I sleep here? On the snow next to my dead parents? Leyoht wondered.
A pause of mental inactivity suddenly filled his mind just before he curtly answered, Yes! I don’t care if I die! Everyone I know is dead, anyway.
The thought of never again seeing his parents, Mikto, Rossetti, Behinlo, Plenot, Ramil, Jsaleor, or even the white of his mother’s egg caused a hammer of angina to swing against in Leyoht’s heart. Such pain increased when he realized he might have never taken witness of an owlet’s birth. As he’d remember Sahemawia telling him, the birth of a new person was a miraculous experience.
Despite his depression and numbness, Leyoht released a weary yawn. It was within heartbeats when he fell soundly asleep.
--
Through that night of chilling, biting wind, a series of thoughts drifted through Leyoht’s mind. Such thoughts would evolve into dreams. Said dreams were quickly converted into a single horrendous nightmare.
It all began when a strange, quiet voice rattled within his head.
Leyoht, the voice whispered.
It was almost immediately after hearing this voice when Leyoht found himself lying down in a pitch-black landscape.
Join the empire. Join us once more! There it was again. Who was uttering these words?
Such a voice caused Leyoht to feel as if there was nothing but negativity in life—as if everything positive had been snatched away from him long ago.
What are you talking about? Leyoht screamed back through telepathy, shifting in his sleep. I’m just an owlet!
As his dream continued, Leyoht realized noticed the pitch-black ground below making an abrupt disappearance. Because he hadn’t known how to fly, he began to fall down—coming ever-closer to the pit below. It hadn’t taken long for him to meet up with the new ground, his chest making a rough collision with it.
An enormous thud shook up Leyoht’s ears, causing him to become temporarily deafened. It was as if somebody had screamed right into his ears—as if somebody was trying to remove his sense of hearing.
Surprisingly for him, his impact with the ground proved less painful than he had first anticipated. A moment of silence showed itself before Leyoht picked himself up on his feet. The sight before him made him wish he had stayed where he was.
Literally hundreds of humans of every kind rested in peace upon the snowy ground. Their blood was one their own heads—the likes of which remained separated from their respectable owners.
Although he wanted to hate the humans for what they had recently done for them, Leyoht couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for these poor creatures. Human blood stained almost every single spot on the ground, catching the attention of a duo of small, gray owls to fly above him and the humans.
It was while shaken in fear when Leyoht heard the strange voice once again, listening as it echoed throughout his head. Pathetic little owlet! the voice cackled. The chaos is inevitable! All the creatures of earth lay dead upon you! And now—little one—you are next!
Regardless of the threatening tone in Leyoht’s inner voice, he paid more attention to the sights before him. Blood leaked out of the humans’ bodies with the speed of Leyoht’s tears. Some of them, he noticed, didn’t bleed at all; instead they remained charred and skeletal.
It was while distracted by the bodies when the strange owls picked Leyoht up by his shoulders and began to fly.
Feeling as his feet left the ground, a spark of fear lit up in Leyoht’s stomach when he asked, “What are you doing?” When no response came through either of the owls’ beaks, the young owlet pleaded through a scream, “Please don’t kill me!”
Another moment of silence came into place as the irresponsive owls continued to carry Leyoht higher up into the sky. Growing irritable, Leyoht demanded, “Put me down!”
As the sound of these words ticked their ears, the two gray owls quickly exchanged glances. Once doing so, they stopped in their path—causing them to merely hover about in the sky.
“Farewell,” one of them sneered through a male voice.
In an instant, both owls released their grip on Leyoht’s shoulders, allowing him to fall to the ground.
While releasing a screech of fear, he took notice of an orange light shooting from the eerie, gray ground. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize this orange glow was coming from a raging fire.
The scent of smoke wafted into his nostrils, causing him to silently screech, Oh no! Not this stuff again! The same stuff that killed my parents!
Only heartbeats had passed when an intensely-warm feeling penetrated his skin. Only a few heartbeats more had passed when a wave of discomforting heat travelled throughout his entire body.
Such an uncomfortable feeling from this orange glow grew more and more apparent as Leyoht continued to fall. This heat quickly grew to intense levels, causing him to release a howl of pain.
It was only heartbeats after releasing this howl when Leyoht fell into a sea of flame. The chaotic intensity from this sea caused his skin and feathers to instantly burn
away from the rest of his body. The result of such a phenomenon gave Leyoht a jet-black appearance.
Almost as if the enormous fire was alive, it pushed up against Leyoht—releasing him back up into the sky. Confusion and relief spread into his head as he drew further away from the flame. His relief, however, would come to an end when gravity’s curse played its game on him.
It had taken a few more heartbeats of falling for Leyoht to realize he was on a collision course with a series of sharp, thorny stalagmites.
Spikes? he wondered while falling at the speed of sound. The sensation of wind brushing through his feathers came to an end when a poking sensation pressed up against the center of his chest.
Only a split-second had come to pass before Leyoht felt as one of the stalagmites pierced its way through his heart. Such an immense injury caused him to literally hack a stream of blood through his beak. A small amount of these hacks caused Leyoht to become anemic and pass away in a heartbeat.
The amount of terror drawn from this dream caused Leyoht to finally wake up, a scream sprouting from his beak. “Ah!” he screeched.
As the cry released from his lungs and out through his beak, Leyoht suddenly noticed he was no longer lying upon the blizzard’s snowy ground. Rather than lie on the snow, he was now leaning up against the fabric of a human’s home.
Confusion clouded his thoughts, causing him to flinch in surprise and silently ask himself in utter disbelief, How did I get here? His mind tickled at such a thought, making him curious of the fabric he was leaning upon. As a result, he started examining it.
After staring at the fabric of the human home, Leyoht took a close look at what before. Such a sight, he quickly realized, was that of a large, sleeping human. Did that human bring me here? he wondered, a spark of gratefulness lighting up in his heart.
With this thought in mind, a stream of joyful tears started leaking from the little bird’s eyes. The humans saved me! he silently exclaimed while sobbing. Thinking that he may have disturbed the humans, Leyoht abruptly covered his beak with the back of his wing, muffling the noises from his beak.