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The Great Ga’hoole Tree was in disarray.
Upon the arrival of the dreaded Pure Ones to their sacred abode, the Guardians sworn to protect it were hasty in nabbing the nearest weapons and helmets available to them, barely having the time to discuss a plan with each other. Having been caught so off-guard so quickly, they had to just go and fight however they could, living up to their titles as protectors.
The rest of the owls, meanwhile, were sent to the deeper recesses of the tree for protection. Pelli was highly reluctant to be a part of this group, forced to be of no use in this trial especially after her possible loss. But those around her were all too persistent, and understanding that she had no battle experience, she sadly agreed. Only those immediately essential, such as medical owls, stayed in their original positions, braving proximity to the front lines for the sakes of those who needed them. Wherever they stood, the non-Guardians of the Great Tree waited anxiously for what was about to ensue, enduring the tension while their warriors flew to their service.
The Pure Ones looked on joyfully as they observed it all. Commander Wortmore, the head of this army division and one of the most renowned of the Pure Ones, was particularly pleased. Well before they made their landing, they all knew that they would have their enemies cornered, regardless of what pitiful formations they may try to make. And now, seeing his loyal Tytos lined up so precisely along the island, each position serving a purpose in blocking their foes from beyond, resembled the feeling of an artist finally seeing their long-planned work come together.
They had a former ally of theirs to thank for the possibility of this siege. A Great Grey Owl named Allomere had once been a part of the Pure Ones, at least as much as a non-Tyto could ever hope to be. He’d been one of the Guardians himself before being swayed to their side, having assisted in leading them into the Pure Ones' trap at St. Aegolious. He was promised the position of King of the Great Ga’hoole Tree for his efforts, but of course Metalbeak had no intention of upholding such a deal. As such, the Great Grey met his end at the talons of those he’d served. It was no matter now, however, for before that he had given them one crucial bit of knowledge: the location of the Great Tree itself. It was this key information that spurred the Pure Ones into their latest and hopefully greatest plot. And months of planning, training, and recruiting later, that plot was finally being carried out.
“INTRUDERS!!” the voice of King Boron pierced the skies, drawing the attention of Guardians and Pure Ones alike to the regal Snowy Owl perched at the highest point of the tree. He was adorned in a golden mask and sharpened battle claws, much like his mate beside him. “This island belongs to the Guardians of Ga’hoole! Turn back now, or face grave consequences!”
Laughter only ensued from many of the invaders, much to the ire of the Guardians.
Wortmore shouted back in response. “I think not, Your Majesty! You’ll find that we are under no obligation to obey your orders any longer. I’d advise you and your little warriors to spare yourselves further pain and retreat back inside this precious tree of yours.”
More Guardians were now perched on the exterior branches, similarly outfitted with battle gear and armor. While the situation was urgent, many were able to exchange silent gestures to each other with wing and talon. They were rehearsed methods of indicating pre-established, coded fighting maneuvers for when the time came to strike.
“Or, just surrender now,” Wortmore added. “Make this as easy as possible for everyone.”
The king and queen ignored the mocking suggestion and merely looked around and below them. They saw their fighters all in position, diverse groups of birds of all types, ready to make their move, together. All they needed was the signal of their leaders.
And that signal came. With a shrill battle cry from the queen, all owls sprang off their tree and launched into combat.
And so the battle ensued, with the darkened sky being quickly populated with fast-moving fighters frantically clashing into one another. The sounds of metal colliding and – more disturbingly – flesh being torn into could be heard even from the more hearing-sensitive owls in hiding. Feathers were blown in the wind, bodies rocketed about.
The Guardians’ movements and targets were a combination of planned and improvised, coordinated and freeform. Their desperation was clear in how they carried and conducted themselves in the battle; they could only be so well-oiled when they were winging so much of their defense. Over half of them could merely resort to just taking out as many Pure One soldiers as possible, and hope that the same was done more slowly back against them. The Pure Ones, on the other hand, were more than prepared. In addition to the benefits of time and knowledge prior to their own attack, they had set themselves up across the many high and low points on the island, mindful to make sure any and every inch of ground could be covered effectively with little problem. This meant that no matter where a Guardian went, they would have someone ready to retaliate and push them back. That’s all they needed to do: not wipe their enemies out, but make sure they were kept at bay while keeping their own numbers largely intact.
And surely enough, the results were just about as expected. The battle was hard-fought on both sides, but the strategic advantage was becoming too great for the Guardians to handle. Even Twilight and Otulissa, two of the tree’s best fighters, were unable to hold their own for very long, though their work was still comparatively impressive. The Pure Ones were also vigilant, being sure to make full use of their positioning to swiftly go after and finish off any owl who nearly got past their wall of troops. They suffered a few casualties on their end, but not nearly as heavily their opponents.
Boron and Barran kept watch of their situation as they themselves fought, and this reality was becoming increasingly clear to them as it carried on. They felt their stomachs churn as they saw many of their comrades fall, all while the Pure Ones’ formation looked largely unmoved save for some insignificant dents. It was an extremely difficult sight to come to grips with, but it couldn’t be denied: they were losing this fight.
And once they saw yet another one of their own fall lifelessly to the rocky terrain below them, the two Snowy Owls gave one confirmatory look at one another. And then they gave the orders to retreat.
As the word spread for the Guardians to pull back, many were, unsurprisingly, unwilling to do so. Twilight was particularly hard to pry away, but enough owls told him that orders were orders that he couldn’t get away with it any longer. Ezylryb flew away from his foe, but not without being able to get in one slash to a Pure One’s eye for good measure, the closest thing to a smile he could muster on his beak as he then turned back. Those who were unharmed salvaged the living yet injured owls and dutifully flew them to safety … if their tree could even be called “safety” now.
Entering the chambers to greet the rest of the tree’s residents was far from a pleasant experience. The owls’ confusion at seeing their protectors return with their heads held low turned to shock upon being told they had retreated. That they had lost. Heads starting turning, whispers growing more and more panicked, forcing the Guardians to try and calm them down and convince them that the battle was lost, but not the war.
However, after the injuries obtained and lives lost from this futile fight, very few Guardians were willing or able to go back and try another attack that was likely to go just as poorly. The Pure Ones, meanwhile, had no desire to bust into the tree and simply try to take over right away. Were they to make such a move, the tables would turn. They themselves would then run the risk of being cornered, not only within the tree itself but also with the possibility of their surrounding forces being left open. Some Guardians could escape, and their siege would be compromised.
As a result, the next few hours were a frightening standstill. Time seemed to have frozen in place, the suspense in the air so palpable that some owls could feel their hearts racing with even a single step taken. Many Guardians were restless, itching to do something to ward off this invasion. Those who were wounded felt particularly helpless, despite being praised for their bravery. The loved ones of those who suffered in combat poured into the medical hollow, weeping at the sight of those who were dealt such horrible blows at their own home. Parliament scrambled to make some sense of the madness, while most other owls were sure to stay in groups. No one wanted to be on their own, not knowing what their assailants would do next.
When the invasion commenced, Pelli had gone to find Eglantine to guide her into hiding with her. Eglantine then spent the majority of the time nestled firmly into the older female’s side, trying to bury herself from the chaos and danger. Pelli maintained her bravery for her, enfolding her into a loving hold, but it was a struggle to hide that she wasn’t much less fearful. After the fighting eventually died out and those in hiding were allowed to emerge, the two Barn Owls sought out their friends. This led to Eglantine and Gylfie coming together for the first time since their falling out earlier. As their eyes locked onto each other, both could see that there was still a bit of tension between them. But in the face of the crisis, that suddenly didn’t matter, as the owlet brought herself to accept an embrace from Gylfie, who did her best to rub her small wings along Eglantine's legs to calm her weeping.
“I thought we were safe here,” Eglantine whispered in a shuddering voice.
“I did too,” Gylfie responded wearily. “I did too.”
That was the sentiment of many. This tree had been a place of peace for so long, the place for owls to be free from the oppressive evils that rose up in the kingdoms. It almost sounded sacrilegious to suggest that such evils could make their way here, let alone something of this magnitude.
Wortmore, meanwhile, watched his enemies cower and give in, slowly disappearing within the branches and hollows of the tree. Just as he and his troops knew they would. It showed that their formation was successful and would hold. That is, as long as they maintained their current positions. They couldn’t get greedy and move inside. Not yet.
They were set on continuing the strategy they’d performed for the past week: trap the Guardians in their home and keep them there. Give them nowhere to go, nowhere to get help, and most of all, nowhere to get more food or supplies. Additionally, they’d have to keep on their guard at all times with the enemy right outside their door. All while the Pure Ones would live comfortably, getting as much food as they needed, taking shifts, and free to do whatever and go wherever they pleased. In time, be it days, weeks, or months, they would remain there until the Guardians were choked out, reduced to slivers of their former selves. Many would likely die of malnutrition, particularly the sick and old. And eventually, they would be too weak to make any move as the Pure Ones finally moved in to take the Great Tree and claim it as their own, wiping out the remaining Guardians still standing. Only then would they be free to go out and take the entirety of the owl kingdoms for themselves.
It was only a matter of time. Of which they had plenty.
The hours passed slowly for Soren.
The poor Barn Owl remained in his helpless state, not having received any visitor since Kludd. The ropes were still on tight and not getting any more comfortable, much to the bird's chagrin.
His wings were so cramped and congested, the raw sting refusing to let up. His legs felt almost just as bad, aching from the stance they were forced into. His beak was trying its hardest to adjust and alleviate itself from its jammed position, and having it constantly crammed so fully often made Soren want to retch. It twitched irritably, along with his eyes and precariously-balanced body.
It was only thanks to the inch-wide slit in the back wall of his cell that Soren could tell he'd been trapped here for roughly a day. Jumping his way over, he would look out longingly to watch the eventual rising of the sun, and occasionally turn back to observe its changed position sometime later. Now, it was just halfway through its journey through the partially cloudy sky. Outside of that, however, the horrible ache in the captive's body and beak numbed all sense of time … as well as preventing him from getting any sleep.
Kludd's dire proclamation regarding the fates of Soren's friends and allies did renew his fight to get free, but they didn't lead to any results; he was still trapped and tied up, and it appeared he'd stay that way until someone did the job for him. He prayed that such a thing would happen, and that somehow some crack in the Pure Ones' plot was able to be exposed by the time they reached the Great Tree. The very thought of what could be happening to them at this very moment, and his blasted inability to do anything about it, drove the Guardian up a wall.
His solitude, however, was soon broken. Soren's hearing, particularly advanced as was common for Tytos, was able to pick up on gradually approaching footsteps coming towards him. He twisted his head to get a better listen, but that soon ended up being unnecessary when a new face entered his hollow. A face that sparked as much fury and hatred as any other in his life thus far.
Nyra, he seethed.
The High Tyto and self-proclaimed queen of the Pure Ones appeared casually commanding and fluidly graceful in her gait as she walked inside. Her shimmering, piercingly white feathers looked particularly well-groomed, as if she were preparing for some special event. Soren couldn’t help himself from letting out a low, increasingly audible growl through his gag, eyes narrowed to slits. His wings, almost involuntarily, tensed and pulled against the ropes, his talons curling despite being unusable.
“Why hello there, dear Soren,” Nyra said far too sweetly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Rhrrnnnrrhnn?!” Soren snapped, still fidgeting a bit as the female got closer to him. Ashamed of how he'd handled himself in front of Kludd, he refused to back up and cower for her; he swallowed his fear and stood tall, keeping himself looking as composed as he could.
While Soren had been trying to ask what Nyra wanted, the question couldn't be understood. Nonetheless, the female was about to let the captured Barn Owl find out.
Kludd was an exceptional owl, that much she couldn't deny. Were he to remain her mate until death took her, she would be perfectly satisfied. But Nyra was nothing if not a perfectionist; she craved the best she could possibly get in all aspects of life, and would do whatever was needed to attain it. And as capable, headstrong, and even attractive as her current mate was, perhaps even more so than her former one, she couldn't help but find herself further drawn to the younger sibling in front of her. He was a lot of what Kludd was … but younger, stronger, and now as a young adult, even easier on the eyes. And even in this moment, seeing his determination and fight when so helpless, the same will that she saw when he was first brought to her at St. Aggie's …
In answer to Soren's question, Nyra wanted him. Ruling by her side.
“Goodness me, Soren, no need to be so hostile,” Nyra cooed, tilting her head a bit. “If it weren’t for me, Kludd would have had your head back at Ambala. Be grateful, my boy, that I insisted you be kept alive.”
“... Whrr?” Soren was surprised to hear that. She’d insisted that he live? Pushing aside the hurt he felt that his brother was ready to kill him, why would she push so hard for his life? What twisted motive did she have?
The evil queen couldn’t help but giggle at the grunt. How cute, she sighed.
She now stood a foot apart from him, showing that the two were equal in height, a far cry from when she towered over him months ago. Nyra took the time to drink in how, even in the unnatural and stiff position forced upon him, this Tyto still looked very fine. And as he stood there boiling, breathing so heavily in spite of the gag, she found herself filled with a desire she didn't experience often. It gave her a treat for the ears as well as the eyes.
“You know,” she stated, “I never begrudged you, Soren. Yes, you stand on the opposing side and killed my dear old mate, and I certainly can’t easily forgive that …” She paused to briefly recall the fond memories with him. “But I believe I can let all of that be put in the past under … certain circumstances."
At least he was the proper age, Soren thought with judgement. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the revolting idea of this … this witch, seducing and becoming mates with his brother. Did he really think she truly cared for him in that way? Had she really dug her claws so deeply into his head? It was vile!
“You don’t seem to agree,” Nyra observed his hateful scowl, largely amused and even allured by it. She circled around the tied-up owl, causing him to squirm once more. As she ended up behind him, this allowed her to better see the thrust of his bound wings. His tail feathers moved back and forth as if in a dance of sorts, driving her hunger even further. Her imagination ran wild at the idea of this male performing such an act for her, and her alone.
“Why is that?” she asked coyly. “I mean what I say. I don’t wish for you to be my enemy. Not at all. On the contrary …”
After coming back to his side, she went up and placed a talon over both of his. “It’s not a stretch to say that I’m … quite fond of you.”
“Nnrrh!” Soren huffed, hopping back to get his feet out of her touch. He puffed himself up as much as he could to show his defiance, disgraced at being touched by such a heinous being. Little did he know that this only made the female happier. She admired how his wings, while tied down, still displayed their majesty as they peeked out. She ogled his speckled chest as it protruded out from above the ropes, expanding and contracting in an almost hypnotizing pattern.
And the female couldn’t help but step up and rub a talon tenderly over it.
“Oh my,” she nearly whispered, feeling his developed, well-trained form. “You’ve grown up.”
“NNRRPH!!” Soren garbled, not caring how it sounded past the rag in his beak. “Grrnnmm phnnnrr grnn rrphnnmr!”
There was that rage. Soren didn’t wear it nearly as close to the chest as Kludd did, but it was in there. And it pleased her very, very much.
Unfortunately, she knew that it wouldn't be as easy to use in making him hers. It was clear that Soren strongly believed in peace among owls, which common sense would lead one to mean converting him was futile. But she had a few methods in mind, ones that would truly test the strong will of this attractive bird.
Knowing that backing away would only encourage the twisted female even more, Soren forced himself to stand in place as she stroked his chest up and down, in slow, sensual movements that made him feel nauseated. He forced himself to not listen to her practically moaning with pleasure, merely glowering at her to make clear that he was not having the fun she so obviously was.
"You would make such a fine ruler, young one," Nyra purred. "I mean that." She brought her claw down from his chest and replaced it with a wingtip to his handsome white face, cupping the bottom of his facial disk gently. Soren grimaced in disgust and craned his head up to try futilely to resist the feel of the feathers, muffling in anger.
"You can do so much better than those pitiful Guardians. They will likely perish before the next moon cycle is complete, and besides … where did your little friends fly off to in the ambush? It shows where their true loyalties lie for them to have left you to rot."
Soren’s body quivered with rage, a blazing abhorrence the likes of which he'd never known. This hag knew nothing about any of them!! Finally, he hopped back and tugged himself in his bonds, no longer tolerating the female's advances.
“But you can be spared their fate, Soren. Become one of us. Discover what it means to be a part of a true family, those who believe in something much stronger than your pathetic desire for pacifism. I’ve seen you kill, boy. I know you have the blood of a true Pure One … your brother is proof of that-”
“NNVRR!!” Soren roared. “YRRNNNPHNN!! Nnrrnng mrnnmrrhnngrr mrrnnrr!!” His upper body lunged forward in ire, trying to stay upright but too upset to truly care if he did.
This female was insane. Utterly, utterly insane. It was reflected in every single action she made, every word she spoke, every thought he could see clear as day was floating in her psychotic mind. But even beyond that, it was clear right now that she didn't care about Kludd whatsoever ... or him for that matter. The only thing she wanted was power, be it in herself or in her "mate". It wouldn't even surprise Soren if this was the nature of her relationship with the original Metalbeak, if she had simply flirted her way up to reigning by his side. Glaux, he was beginning to question whether she even believed in the Pure Ones' mission at all, or if it was just a front for her mad desire for domination!
And after everything she’d done to him - kidnapping him as an owlet, corrupting his brother, attacking his loved ones, threatening the happiness of owls everywhere - she was even more delusional if she thought he would ever, under any circumstances, agree to be the newest victim of her spell. He’d sooner face Hagsmire itself than bring himself to such an unthinkable low, no matter what threats or promises she made to him.
And he tried to convey that, however he could without words. He gave her the fiercest look he could muster, eyes shining daggers of malice, stifled snarls leaking past his gag, legs tense and ready to strike.
“Nnnnmm whrrnnmm yrrnndnnrr!! Nnnmm whrrmm mrrnnrr!!”
But Nyra, infuriatingly, just cackled. Seeing this young adult so defiant despite everything was admirable, but laughable. And yet it still only drew her to him more.
She got back up to shove her face right up against his, the two of them facing each other down like two fluffy moons fighting for their place in the night. “I’m no fool, boy. I see how idealistic you are. But you’re gravely mistaken to think it can last. In time, you’ll learn that. You’ll watch everything you know fall apart, and see the might of the Pure Ones prevail across the land. You’ll see how powerless the side you chose left you when your heroes fail you. But most of all …”
Her voice softened as she ran her beak and head through the male’s neck, looking up at him lustfully, “You’ll know pleasure unlike anything you could imagine … all if you open your eyes and take the opportunity I’m so graciously offering.”
"RRHH!!"
The High Tyto was given a response in the form of a headbutt, with Soren reeling back to plow his head into her chest. It was fairly weak, merely sending her stumbling back a few inches and forcing him to hop and wobble frantically to keep himself standing. But what little fight he could show was worth it in his mind.
Nyra was nothing more than amused, regardless. She gleefully watched his body work and shift to realign itself, drinking in the little grunts he emitted in the process.
When he finally was settled and resumed his scowl back at her, she churred and spoke one more time. “Such fire, worthy of the flames you soar so skillfully through,” she complimented. “You look on this affair with disdain now, but I insist that you have the makings of a wonderful king to my queenship. And be assured, I will make you see what I see. And then your true legend will be realized.”
She took a few more minutes to eye her captive, to which he held his own. After that, the evil Barn Owl finally took to the exit and left his sight.
Soren didn’t think his anger could have been any stronger. But what just transpired proved him woefully wrong.
Five days.
It had been five full days since the Pure Ones successfully lay siege to the island. They were living comfortably, having easy access to the food and materials they needed, and only having to fend off semi-regular bouts of boredom.
How the owls within the mighty tree craved to have their biggest problem be boredom. For them, the past five days felt more like five weeks.
Sleep was hard to come by for most, understandably so even with several owls taking shifts throughout the day. Many simply spent their time of rest sitting awake in unease, some of them looking outside in blind hope that their predicament was somehow miraculously over. But no matter what time it was, the never-ending sight of Pure Ones perched on the borders of the island served as a constant, cruel reminder to the contrary. They seemed to always be watching no matter where the owls went, like all-seeing searchlights atop an imposing prison wall. There was little that felt worse than staring out into the wide, open world, offering endless possibilities, knowing full well they were not free to go and explore it as they pleased.
Most events and daily traditions ended up cancelled, with the few still intact carrying on with the downbeat tinge that more closely resembled a wake. No longer were the Weathering Chaw capable of indulging in carefree, possibly reckless flights against the heavy gusts and rainfall they so enjoyed. Any navigator who picked out an atlas or such related title off the library shelves had to remind themselves that they couldn't venture off to the places described in the texts, their exploration limited to their imaginations.
Bonds that had been in mid-formation prior to the siege were cemented in twice the amount of time they would have otherwise taken. The owls had to take comfort in each other when it couldn't be found anywhere around them. The rulers and Parliament members did their best to provide continuous emotional support, but many found it hard to see it as more than base, generic encouragement.
Those who required medical care after the fight were healing, but at a slower rate than usual. Strix Struma in particular was having it rough, being in the worst condition of any patient and showing practically no signs of improvement from her initial condition upon her return. Owls prayed for the recoveries of their heroic friends, and Otulissa in particular visited her mentor so often that she could be seen almost as regularly as some of the nurse snakes.
A large source of these slow recoveries, and the most dangerous aspect of this forced lockdown, was the supply of food. Even before the invasion, the owls of the Great Tree had already been cutting back on rations due to the disappearances of those sent to get more. But now it was clear that they had to set those limitations even stricter to ensure the food stock lasted as long as possible. The young and the sick were given the first priority, to the agreement of everyone, but even they couldn't be given what most would consider proper portions. Every parent at the tree felt their hearts break when they heard their children's growling stomachs, which usually resulted in them giving up their portions for at least one meal. The situation couldn't be helped; there was no way to get more, and running out would be disastrous.
Then, still lingering on everyone’s minds was what happened to those who vanished but didn’t come back as Struma did. Friends, loved ones, and allies sat in hollows with grim thoughts running through their minds, trying to distract one another from the unpleasant questions but only able to push them so far back in their heads. This obviously included Soren's friends and sister, all of whom were going on nothing but hope that he was still alive out there. If so, their one salvation could be that he was free from this entrapment ... as long as he didn't attempt to return to the tree, in which case the forces surrounding it could take him out with ease. Everyone could agree that such a thing would be worse than their current state of uncertainty regarding him. Either way, their worries didn't fade; right now, there was little else for anyone to do but worry. All denizens of the tree could feel the isolation and restrictions closing in on them more and more by the hour, like walls getting tighter or a worm burrowing its way into their minds and eating away at them from the inside out.
Gylfie found herself wandering about on the lower section of the tree one evening, currently preferring it over the higher levels. She didn’t want to be taunted by a beautiful view that teased a world outside of her reach. After an unsatisfying and quiet breakfast, she had excused herself from her friends, demanding to be alone despite their pleas otherwise.
As she stared down at the dirt not far from her, she was too distracted by her own thoughts to notice another presence descending and landing nearby.
“A bit low to the ground for you, isn’t it?”
The question startled a gasp out of Gylfie, and she turned herself around defensively. But her guard was lowered when the voice turned out to only be Digger. She huffed in a mix of relief and sourness; such ease to be spooked had quickly spread around the tree, every owl on edge nearly constantly.
“Woah, didn’t mean to scare you,” Digger chuckled dryly.
“I know, I know,” Gylfie responded, trying to take in some form of amusement towards her friend.
He walked up to join her, inches from her side. "I thought you could use some company. You kind of left breakfast in a hurry."
"I also said I wanted to be alone," the Elf Owl fired back.
"True, but maybe that's not the best thing. We need to stick together through this, not distance ourselves even more."
While Gylfie sighed out somewhat exaggeratedly, Digger had a point. Despite her insistences, she couldn't help but now feel comforted by the wise Burrowing Owl's presence. He was always fairly easy to talk to, not just for herself but for many who knew him and were familiar with his intelligent musings.
The two stood there in silence for a few moments, going back and forth between exchanging glances and mindlessly staring at the environment around them. With both of them being on the smaller side, the food rations didn't affect their physical appearances in noticeable ways. It was the larger birds who were starting to show it more.
Digger took a few seconds to stare straight at Gylfie and gauge her thoughts, before resuming their talk. “I feel it too,” he said lowly. “Not wanting to wake up. Wondering how long this is going to be our lives.”
“I just can’t believe it’s come to this,” Gylfie lamented. “I mean, we’re Guardians for Glaux's sake! We shouldn’t be forced to succumb to this!” Her body fluffed up in anger as her talons squeezed the branch the two were perched on.
Digger sighed. “Ezylryb's even been volunteering some of his quarters of vole to a few of the chicks.” His beak curled up. “You know how much he loves those.”
“Clearly the biggest sacrifice of all,” Gylfie churred, joined by Digger. These little moments of humor felt ever briefer these past few days, but they had to grasp onto them and cherish them for the sake of their sanities. Especially thinking about those chicks, and how unfair it was that they had to spend any part of their cherished childhoods like this.
Digger scooched forward and brushed a wing against his friend. “We’ll figure something out. We have to,” he tried to assure. Gylfie slowly turned and lightly nodded, not looking entirely convincing but seeming to satisfy the slightly larger bird. She was lost in thought of just what they could do, her mind going a mile a minute coming up with and then shooting down unfeasible ideas.
“It’s like my parents used to tell me,” Digger continued. “When life gets tough, do what Burrowing Owls do best: dig deep.”
Gylfie laughed a bit. It was sound advice indeed, despite the less-than-stellar pun. She stared back down at the ground, observing the mixture of thick soil and harder rock that could itself be dug into deeply, possibly even to the point of exposing the massive roots of this invaluable structure.
… It could be, couldn’t it? she thought. ... Deep enough to … to …
The Elf Owl’s eyes then widened. She slowly looked up, gazing back out at the enemy-infested hills and coast before her. She surveyed the landscape, before looking back down to study the earth’s floor once more. She could feel her heart begin to race, a spark of adrenaline she hadn't felt in days coursing through her veins. It was but a spark, but one she could feel growing into something brighter.
“What?” Digger asked, witnessing the female’s mind racing.
For like a newborn chick out of the shell, an idea had been suddenly hatched in Gylfie’s head. One that may have sounded ludicrous, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
The original Guardians of Ga'hoole series was created by Kathryn Lasky. The film Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole and its versions of the characters belong to Warner Bros.
Originally uploaded on April 29, 2020.
This chapter initially arrived in the midst of trying to navigate a certain bizarre and frustrating development plaguing DeviantArt, as well as finally getting finals out of the way. The first section is pretty straightforward, just the cementing of the siege and the failure of the Guardians to stop it from taking form. Plus we get Wortmore, a character from the books, because why not have a focal point character for the Pure Ones at the tree?
And you know, when I finished planning this fic back in January, never did I think that a widespread current event would add a relevance to how I portray the Guardians' plight. But as it turns out, this whole pandemic and what it's doing to everyone really factored in to how I thought about what living in this siege would be like. That's not to say I was ever going to go easy on these owls. I think the Ga'hoole book's idea of the impact the siege has on them was great, and would have made for a great, tense, dark sequel to the movie. So I hope to capture a sense of what it would have been like, while of course working in Soren's unfortunate situation. However, if you think that Gylfie coming up with a plan means that the worst is behind them ... nope!
Which brings us to one of my most anticipated parts of the story: Nyra coming on to Soren. It was not made secret that she held an infatuation towards him in the third chapter, so now we see her acting on it. And this is definitely up there with Of Coopers and Coils and The Kidnapping of Kiara in terms of the heaviest flirting I've had for a captor towards a captive. My thought process is that Nyra has grown so confident in herself that she foolishly thinks she can lure Soren over to her side as she did Kludd, and that his more golden heart simply makes him a bigger challenge. How will such overconfidence continue to drive and affect her? We'll see later on.
Thank you to everyone who keeps up with this fic! We're just over halfway through now. This is the most recent finished chapter of the story I have, but work on Part 6 will commence soon, alongside my upcoming TLK fics and finally continuing Robin Hood: Arrow to the Heart.
Soren's gag speech translated:
"Rhrrnnnrrhnn?" - "What do you want?"
"... Whrr?" = "... What?"
"NNRRPH!!" - "ENOUGH!!"
"Grrnnmm phnnnrr grnn rrphnnmr!" - "Keep your filthy claws off of me!"
"NNVRR!! YRRNNNPHNN!! Nnrrnng mrnnmrrhnngrr mrrnnrr!!" - "NEVER!! YOU’RE INSANE!! Nothing but a power-hungry monster!!"
"Nnnnmm whrrnnmm yrrnndnnrr!! Nnnmm whrrmm mrrnnrr!!" - "Tell me where the owls you attacked are!! Tell me where my parents are!!"
Upon the arrival of the dreaded Pure Ones to their sacred abode, the Guardians sworn to protect it were hasty in nabbing the nearest weapons and helmets available to them, barely having the time to discuss a plan with each other. Having been caught so off-guard so quickly, they had to just go and fight however they could, living up to their titles as protectors.
The rest of the owls, meanwhile, were sent to the deeper recesses of the tree for protection. Pelli was highly reluctant to be a part of this group, forced to be of no use in this trial especially after her possible loss. But those around her were all too persistent, and understanding that she had no battle experience, she sadly agreed. Only those immediately essential, such as medical owls, stayed in their original positions, braving proximity to the front lines for the sakes of those who needed them. Wherever they stood, the non-Guardians of the Great Tree waited anxiously for what was about to ensue, enduring the tension while their warriors flew to their service.
The Pure Ones looked on joyfully as they observed it all. Commander Wortmore, the head of this army division and one of the most renowned of the Pure Ones, was particularly pleased. Well before they made their landing, they all knew that they would have their enemies cornered, regardless of what pitiful formations they may try to make. And now, seeing his loyal Tytos lined up so precisely along the island, each position serving a purpose in blocking their foes from beyond, resembled the feeling of an artist finally seeing their long-planned work come together.
They had a former ally of theirs to thank for the possibility of this siege. A Great Grey Owl named Allomere had once been a part of the Pure Ones, at least as much as a non-Tyto could ever hope to be. He’d been one of the Guardians himself before being swayed to their side, having assisted in leading them into the Pure Ones' trap at St. Aegolious. He was promised the position of King of the Great Ga’hoole Tree for his efforts, but of course Metalbeak had no intention of upholding such a deal. As such, the Great Grey met his end at the talons of those he’d served. It was no matter now, however, for before that he had given them one crucial bit of knowledge: the location of the Great Tree itself. It was this key information that spurred the Pure Ones into their latest and hopefully greatest plot. And months of planning, training, and recruiting later, that plot was finally being carried out.
“INTRUDERS!!” the voice of King Boron pierced the skies, drawing the attention of Guardians and Pure Ones alike to the regal Snowy Owl perched at the highest point of the tree. He was adorned in a golden mask and sharpened battle claws, much like his mate beside him. “This island belongs to the Guardians of Ga’hoole! Turn back now, or face grave consequences!”
Laughter only ensued from many of the invaders, much to the ire of the Guardians.
Wortmore shouted back in response. “I think not, Your Majesty! You’ll find that we are under no obligation to obey your orders any longer. I’d advise you and your little warriors to spare yourselves further pain and retreat back inside this precious tree of yours.”
More Guardians were now perched on the exterior branches, similarly outfitted with battle gear and armor. While the situation was urgent, many were able to exchange silent gestures to each other with wing and talon. They were rehearsed methods of indicating pre-established, coded fighting maneuvers for when the time came to strike.
“Or, just surrender now,” Wortmore added. “Make this as easy as possible for everyone.”
The king and queen ignored the mocking suggestion and merely looked around and below them. They saw their fighters all in position, diverse groups of birds of all types, ready to make their move, together. All they needed was the signal of their leaders.
And that signal came. With a shrill battle cry from the queen, all owls sprang off their tree and launched into combat.
And so the battle ensued, with the darkened sky being quickly populated with fast-moving fighters frantically clashing into one another. The sounds of metal colliding and – more disturbingly – flesh being torn into could be heard even from the more hearing-sensitive owls in hiding. Feathers were blown in the wind, bodies rocketed about.
The Guardians’ movements and targets were a combination of planned and improvised, coordinated and freeform. Their desperation was clear in how they carried and conducted themselves in the battle; they could only be so well-oiled when they were winging so much of their defense. Over half of them could merely resort to just taking out as many Pure One soldiers as possible, and hope that the same was done more slowly back against them. The Pure Ones, on the other hand, were more than prepared. In addition to the benefits of time and knowledge prior to their own attack, they had set themselves up across the many high and low points on the island, mindful to make sure any and every inch of ground could be covered effectively with little problem. This meant that no matter where a Guardian went, they would have someone ready to retaliate and push them back. That’s all they needed to do: not wipe their enemies out, but make sure they were kept at bay while keeping their own numbers largely intact.
And surely enough, the results were just about as expected. The battle was hard-fought on both sides, but the strategic advantage was becoming too great for the Guardians to handle. Even Twilight and Otulissa, two of the tree’s best fighters, were unable to hold their own for very long, though their work was still comparatively impressive. The Pure Ones were also vigilant, being sure to make full use of their positioning to swiftly go after and finish off any owl who nearly got past their wall of troops. They suffered a few casualties on their end, but not nearly as heavily their opponents.
Boron and Barran kept watch of their situation as they themselves fought, and this reality was becoming increasingly clear to them as it carried on. They felt their stomachs churn as they saw many of their comrades fall, all while the Pure Ones’ formation looked largely unmoved save for some insignificant dents. It was an extremely difficult sight to come to grips with, but it couldn’t be denied: they were losing this fight.
And once they saw yet another one of their own fall lifelessly to the rocky terrain below them, the two Snowy Owls gave one confirmatory look at one another. And then they gave the orders to retreat.
As the word spread for the Guardians to pull back, many were, unsurprisingly, unwilling to do so. Twilight was particularly hard to pry away, but enough owls told him that orders were orders that he couldn’t get away with it any longer. Ezylryb flew away from his foe, but not without being able to get in one slash to a Pure One’s eye for good measure, the closest thing to a smile he could muster on his beak as he then turned back. Those who were unharmed salvaged the living yet injured owls and dutifully flew them to safety … if their tree could even be called “safety” now.
Entering the chambers to greet the rest of the tree’s residents was far from a pleasant experience. The owls’ confusion at seeing their protectors return with their heads held low turned to shock upon being told they had retreated. That they had lost. Heads starting turning, whispers growing more and more panicked, forcing the Guardians to try and calm them down and convince them that the battle was lost, but not the war.
However, after the injuries obtained and lives lost from this futile fight, very few Guardians were willing or able to go back and try another attack that was likely to go just as poorly. The Pure Ones, meanwhile, had no desire to bust into the tree and simply try to take over right away. Were they to make such a move, the tables would turn. They themselves would then run the risk of being cornered, not only within the tree itself but also with the possibility of their surrounding forces being left open. Some Guardians could escape, and their siege would be compromised.
As a result, the next few hours were a frightening standstill. Time seemed to have frozen in place, the suspense in the air so palpable that some owls could feel their hearts racing with even a single step taken. Many Guardians were restless, itching to do something to ward off this invasion. Those who were wounded felt particularly helpless, despite being praised for their bravery. The loved ones of those who suffered in combat poured into the medical hollow, weeping at the sight of those who were dealt such horrible blows at their own home. Parliament scrambled to make some sense of the madness, while most other owls were sure to stay in groups. No one wanted to be on their own, not knowing what their assailants would do next.
When the invasion commenced, Pelli had gone to find Eglantine to guide her into hiding with her. Eglantine then spent the majority of the time nestled firmly into the older female’s side, trying to bury herself from the chaos and danger. Pelli maintained her bravery for her, enfolding her into a loving hold, but it was a struggle to hide that she wasn’t much less fearful. After the fighting eventually died out and those in hiding were allowed to emerge, the two Barn Owls sought out their friends. This led to Eglantine and Gylfie coming together for the first time since their falling out earlier. As their eyes locked onto each other, both could see that there was still a bit of tension between them. But in the face of the crisis, that suddenly didn’t matter, as the owlet brought herself to accept an embrace from Gylfie, who did her best to rub her small wings along Eglantine's legs to calm her weeping.
“I thought we were safe here,” Eglantine whispered in a shuddering voice.
“I did too,” Gylfie responded wearily. “I did too.”
That was the sentiment of many. This tree had been a place of peace for so long, the place for owls to be free from the oppressive evils that rose up in the kingdoms. It almost sounded sacrilegious to suggest that such evils could make their way here, let alone something of this magnitude.
Wortmore, meanwhile, watched his enemies cower and give in, slowly disappearing within the branches and hollows of the tree. Just as he and his troops knew they would. It showed that their formation was successful and would hold. That is, as long as they maintained their current positions. They couldn’t get greedy and move inside. Not yet.
They were set on continuing the strategy they’d performed for the past week: trap the Guardians in their home and keep them there. Give them nowhere to go, nowhere to get help, and most of all, nowhere to get more food or supplies. Additionally, they’d have to keep on their guard at all times with the enemy right outside their door. All while the Pure Ones would live comfortably, getting as much food as they needed, taking shifts, and free to do whatever and go wherever they pleased. In time, be it days, weeks, or months, they would remain there until the Guardians were choked out, reduced to slivers of their former selves. Many would likely die of malnutrition, particularly the sick and old. And eventually, they would be too weak to make any move as the Pure Ones finally moved in to take the Great Tree and claim it as their own, wiping out the remaining Guardians still standing. Only then would they be free to go out and take the entirety of the owl kingdoms for themselves.
It was only a matter of time. Of which they had plenty.
The hours passed slowly for Soren.
The poor Barn Owl remained in his helpless state, not having received any visitor since Kludd. The ropes were still on tight and not getting any more comfortable, much to the bird's chagrin.
His wings were so cramped and congested, the raw sting refusing to let up. His legs felt almost just as bad, aching from the stance they were forced into. His beak was trying its hardest to adjust and alleviate itself from its jammed position, and having it constantly crammed so fully often made Soren want to retch. It twitched irritably, along with his eyes and precariously-balanced body.
It was only thanks to the inch-wide slit in the back wall of his cell that Soren could tell he'd been trapped here for roughly a day. Jumping his way over, he would look out longingly to watch the eventual rising of the sun, and occasionally turn back to observe its changed position sometime later. Now, it was just halfway through its journey through the partially cloudy sky. Outside of that, however, the horrible ache in the captive's body and beak numbed all sense of time … as well as preventing him from getting any sleep.
Kludd's dire proclamation regarding the fates of Soren's friends and allies did renew his fight to get free, but they didn't lead to any results; he was still trapped and tied up, and it appeared he'd stay that way until someone did the job for him. He prayed that such a thing would happen, and that somehow some crack in the Pure Ones' plot was able to be exposed by the time they reached the Great Tree. The very thought of what could be happening to them at this very moment, and his blasted inability to do anything about it, drove the Guardian up a wall.
His solitude, however, was soon broken. Soren's hearing, particularly advanced as was common for Tytos, was able to pick up on gradually approaching footsteps coming towards him. He twisted his head to get a better listen, but that soon ended up being unnecessary when a new face entered his hollow. A face that sparked as much fury and hatred as any other in his life thus far.
Nyra, he seethed.
The High Tyto and self-proclaimed queen of the Pure Ones appeared casually commanding and fluidly graceful in her gait as she walked inside. Her shimmering, piercingly white feathers looked particularly well-groomed, as if she were preparing for some special event. Soren couldn’t help himself from letting out a low, increasingly audible growl through his gag, eyes narrowed to slits. His wings, almost involuntarily, tensed and pulled against the ropes, his talons curling despite being unusable.
“Why hello there, dear Soren,” Nyra said far too sweetly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Rhrrnnnrrhnn?!” Soren snapped, still fidgeting a bit as the female got closer to him. Ashamed of how he'd handled himself in front of Kludd, he refused to back up and cower for her; he swallowed his fear and stood tall, keeping himself looking as composed as he could.
While Soren had been trying to ask what Nyra wanted, the question couldn't be understood. Nonetheless, the female was about to let the captured Barn Owl find out.
Kludd was an exceptional owl, that much she couldn't deny. Were he to remain her mate until death took her, she would be perfectly satisfied. But Nyra was nothing if not a perfectionist; she craved the best she could possibly get in all aspects of life, and would do whatever was needed to attain it. And as capable, headstrong, and even attractive as her current mate was, perhaps even more so than her former one, she couldn't help but find herself further drawn to the younger sibling in front of her. He was a lot of what Kludd was … but younger, stronger, and now as a young adult, even easier on the eyes. And even in this moment, seeing his determination and fight when so helpless, the same will that she saw when he was first brought to her at St. Aggie's …
In answer to Soren's question, Nyra wanted him. Ruling by her side.
“Goodness me, Soren, no need to be so hostile,” Nyra cooed, tilting her head a bit. “If it weren’t for me, Kludd would have had your head back at Ambala. Be grateful, my boy, that I insisted you be kept alive.”
“... Whrr?” Soren was surprised to hear that. She’d insisted that he live? Pushing aside the hurt he felt that his brother was ready to kill him, why would she push so hard for his life? What twisted motive did she have?
The evil queen couldn’t help but giggle at the grunt. How cute, she sighed.
She now stood a foot apart from him, showing that the two were equal in height, a far cry from when she towered over him months ago. Nyra took the time to drink in how, even in the unnatural and stiff position forced upon him, this Tyto still looked very fine. And as he stood there boiling, breathing so heavily in spite of the gag, she found herself filled with a desire she didn't experience often. It gave her a treat for the ears as well as the eyes.
“You know,” she stated, “I never begrudged you, Soren. Yes, you stand on the opposing side and killed my dear old mate, and I certainly can’t easily forgive that …” She paused to briefly recall the fond memories with him. “But I believe I can let all of that be put in the past under … certain circumstances."
At least he was the proper age, Soren thought with judgement. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the revolting idea of this … this witch, seducing and becoming mates with his brother. Did he really think she truly cared for him in that way? Had she really dug her claws so deeply into his head? It was vile!
“You don’t seem to agree,” Nyra observed his hateful scowl, largely amused and even allured by it. She circled around the tied-up owl, causing him to squirm once more. As she ended up behind him, this allowed her to better see the thrust of his bound wings. His tail feathers moved back and forth as if in a dance of sorts, driving her hunger even further. Her imagination ran wild at the idea of this male performing such an act for her, and her alone.
“Why is that?” she asked coyly. “I mean what I say. I don’t wish for you to be my enemy. Not at all. On the contrary …”
After coming back to his side, she went up and placed a talon over both of his. “It’s not a stretch to say that I’m … quite fond of you.”
“Nnrrh!” Soren huffed, hopping back to get his feet out of her touch. He puffed himself up as much as he could to show his defiance, disgraced at being touched by such a heinous being. Little did he know that this only made the female happier. She admired how his wings, while tied down, still displayed their majesty as they peeked out. She ogled his speckled chest as it protruded out from above the ropes, expanding and contracting in an almost hypnotizing pattern.
And the female couldn’t help but step up and rub a talon tenderly over it.
“Oh my,” she nearly whispered, feeling his developed, well-trained form. “You’ve grown up.”
“NNRRPH!!” Soren garbled, not caring how it sounded past the rag in his beak. “Grrnnmm phnnnrr grnn rrphnnmr!”
There was that rage. Soren didn’t wear it nearly as close to the chest as Kludd did, but it was in there. And it pleased her very, very much.
Unfortunately, she knew that it wouldn't be as easy to use in making him hers. It was clear that Soren strongly believed in peace among owls, which common sense would lead one to mean converting him was futile. But she had a few methods in mind, ones that would truly test the strong will of this attractive bird.
Knowing that backing away would only encourage the twisted female even more, Soren forced himself to stand in place as she stroked his chest up and down, in slow, sensual movements that made him feel nauseated. He forced himself to not listen to her practically moaning with pleasure, merely glowering at her to make clear that he was not having the fun she so obviously was.
"You would make such a fine ruler, young one," Nyra purred. "I mean that." She brought her claw down from his chest and replaced it with a wingtip to his handsome white face, cupping the bottom of his facial disk gently. Soren grimaced in disgust and craned his head up to try futilely to resist the feel of the feathers, muffling in anger.
"You can do so much better than those pitiful Guardians. They will likely perish before the next moon cycle is complete, and besides … where did your little friends fly off to in the ambush? It shows where their true loyalties lie for them to have left you to rot."
Soren’s body quivered with rage, a blazing abhorrence the likes of which he'd never known. This hag knew nothing about any of them!! Finally, he hopped back and tugged himself in his bonds, no longer tolerating the female's advances.
“But you can be spared their fate, Soren. Become one of us. Discover what it means to be a part of a true family, those who believe in something much stronger than your pathetic desire for pacifism. I’ve seen you kill, boy. I know you have the blood of a true Pure One … your brother is proof of that-”
“NNVRR!!” Soren roared. “YRRNNNPHNN!! Nnrrnng mrnnmrrhnngrr mrrnnrr!!” His upper body lunged forward in ire, trying to stay upright but too upset to truly care if he did.
This female was insane. Utterly, utterly insane. It was reflected in every single action she made, every word she spoke, every thought he could see clear as day was floating in her psychotic mind. But even beyond that, it was clear right now that she didn't care about Kludd whatsoever ... or him for that matter. The only thing she wanted was power, be it in herself or in her "mate". It wouldn't even surprise Soren if this was the nature of her relationship with the original Metalbeak, if she had simply flirted her way up to reigning by his side. Glaux, he was beginning to question whether she even believed in the Pure Ones' mission at all, or if it was just a front for her mad desire for domination!
And after everything she’d done to him - kidnapping him as an owlet, corrupting his brother, attacking his loved ones, threatening the happiness of owls everywhere - she was even more delusional if she thought he would ever, under any circumstances, agree to be the newest victim of her spell. He’d sooner face Hagsmire itself than bring himself to such an unthinkable low, no matter what threats or promises she made to him.
And he tried to convey that, however he could without words. He gave her the fiercest look he could muster, eyes shining daggers of malice, stifled snarls leaking past his gag, legs tense and ready to strike.
“Nnnnmm whrrnnmm yrrnndnnrr!! Nnnmm whrrmm mrrnnrr!!”
But Nyra, infuriatingly, just cackled. Seeing this young adult so defiant despite everything was admirable, but laughable. And yet it still only drew her to him more.
She got back up to shove her face right up against his, the two of them facing each other down like two fluffy moons fighting for their place in the night. “I’m no fool, boy. I see how idealistic you are. But you’re gravely mistaken to think it can last. In time, you’ll learn that. You’ll watch everything you know fall apart, and see the might of the Pure Ones prevail across the land. You’ll see how powerless the side you chose left you when your heroes fail you. But most of all …”
Her voice softened as she ran her beak and head through the male’s neck, looking up at him lustfully, “You’ll know pleasure unlike anything you could imagine … all if you open your eyes and take the opportunity I’m so graciously offering.”
"RRHH!!"
The High Tyto was given a response in the form of a headbutt, with Soren reeling back to plow his head into her chest. It was fairly weak, merely sending her stumbling back a few inches and forcing him to hop and wobble frantically to keep himself standing. But what little fight he could show was worth it in his mind.
Nyra was nothing more than amused, regardless. She gleefully watched his body work and shift to realign itself, drinking in the little grunts he emitted in the process.
When he finally was settled and resumed his scowl back at her, she churred and spoke one more time. “Such fire, worthy of the flames you soar so skillfully through,” she complimented. “You look on this affair with disdain now, but I insist that you have the makings of a wonderful king to my queenship. And be assured, I will make you see what I see. And then your true legend will be realized.”
She took a few more minutes to eye her captive, to which he held his own. After that, the evil Barn Owl finally took to the exit and left his sight.
Soren didn’t think his anger could have been any stronger. But what just transpired proved him woefully wrong.
Five days.
It had been five full days since the Pure Ones successfully lay siege to the island. They were living comfortably, having easy access to the food and materials they needed, and only having to fend off semi-regular bouts of boredom.
How the owls within the mighty tree craved to have their biggest problem be boredom. For them, the past five days felt more like five weeks.
Sleep was hard to come by for most, understandably so even with several owls taking shifts throughout the day. Many simply spent their time of rest sitting awake in unease, some of them looking outside in blind hope that their predicament was somehow miraculously over. But no matter what time it was, the never-ending sight of Pure Ones perched on the borders of the island served as a constant, cruel reminder to the contrary. They seemed to always be watching no matter where the owls went, like all-seeing searchlights atop an imposing prison wall. There was little that felt worse than staring out into the wide, open world, offering endless possibilities, knowing full well they were not free to go and explore it as they pleased.
Most events and daily traditions ended up cancelled, with the few still intact carrying on with the downbeat tinge that more closely resembled a wake. No longer were the Weathering Chaw capable of indulging in carefree, possibly reckless flights against the heavy gusts and rainfall they so enjoyed. Any navigator who picked out an atlas or such related title off the library shelves had to remind themselves that they couldn't venture off to the places described in the texts, their exploration limited to their imaginations.
Bonds that had been in mid-formation prior to the siege were cemented in twice the amount of time they would have otherwise taken. The owls had to take comfort in each other when it couldn't be found anywhere around them. The rulers and Parliament members did their best to provide continuous emotional support, but many found it hard to see it as more than base, generic encouragement.
Those who required medical care after the fight were healing, but at a slower rate than usual. Strix Struma in particular was having it rough, being in the worst condition of any patient and showing practically no signs of improvement from her initial condition upon her return. Owls prayed for the recoveries of their heroic friends, and Otulissa in particular visited her mentor so often that she could be seen almost as regularly as some of the nurse snakes.
A large source of these slow recoveries, and the most dangerous aspect of this forced lockdown, was the supply of food. Even before the invasion, the owls of the Great Tree had already been cutting back on rations due to the disappearances of those sent to get more. But now it was clear that they had to set those limitations even stricter to ensure the food stock lasted as long as possible. The young and the sick were given the first priority, to the agreement of everyone, but even they couldn't be given what most would consider proper portions. Every parent at the tree felt their hearts break when they heard their children's growling stomachs, which usually resulted in them giving up their portions for at least one meal. The situation couldn't be helped; there was no way to get more, and running out would be disastrous.
Then, still lingering on everyone’s minds was what happened to those who vanished but didn’t come back as Struma did. Friends, loved ones, and allies sat in hollows with grim thoughts running through their minds, trying to distract one another from the unpleasant questions but only able to push them so far back in their heads. This obviously included Soren's friends and sister, all of whom were going on nothing but hope that he was still alive out there. If so, their one salvation could be that he was free from this entrapment ... as long as he didn't attempt to return to the tree, in which case the forces surrounding it could take him out with ease. Everyone could agree that such a thing would be worse than their current state of uncertainty regarding him. Either way, their worries didn't fade; right now, there was little else for anyone to do but worry. All denizens of the tree could feel the isolation and restrictions closing in on them more and more by the hour, like walls getting tighter or a worm burrowing its way into their minds and eating away at them from the inside out.
Gylfie found herself wandering about on the lower section of the tree one evening, currently preferring it over the higher levels. She didn’t want to be taunted by a beautiful view that teased a world outside of her reach. After an unsatisfying and quiet breakfast, she had excused herself from her friends, demanding to be alone despite their pleas otherwise.
As she stared down at the dirt not far from her, she was too distracted by her own thoughts to notice another presence descending and landing nearby.
“A bit low to the ground for you, isn’t it?”
The question startled a gasp out of Gylfie, and she turned herself around defensively. But her guard was lowered when the voice turned out to only be Digger. She huffed in a mix of relief and sourness; such ease to be spooked had quickly spread around the tree, every owl on edge nearly constantly.
“Woah, didn’t mean to scare you,” Digger chuckled dryly.
“I know, I know,” Gylfie responded, trying to take in some form of amusement towards her friend.
He walked up to join her, inches from her side. "I thought you could use some company. You kind of left breakfast in a hurry."
"I also said I wanted to be alone," the Elf Owl fired back.
"True, but maybe that's not the best thing. We need to stick together through this, not distance ourselves even more."
While Gylfie sighed out somewhat exaggeratedly, Digger had a point. Despite her insistences, she couldn't help but now feel comforted by the wise Burrowing Owl's presence. He was always fairly easy to talk to, not just for herself but for many who knew him and were familiar with his intelligent musings.
The two stood there in silence for a few moments, going back and forth between exchanging glances and mindlessly staring at the environment around them. With both of them being on the smaller side, the food rations didn't affect their physical appearances in noticeable ways. It was the larger birds who were starting to show it more.
Digger took a few seconds to stare straight at Gylfie and gauge her thoughts, before resuming their talk. “I feel it too,” he said lowly. “Not wanting to wake up. Wondering how long this is going to be our lives.”
“I just can’t believe it’s come to this,” Gylfie lamented. “I mean, we’re Guardians for Glaux's sake! We shouldn’t be forced to succumb to this!” Her body fluffed up in anger as her talons squeezed the branch the two were perched on.
Digger sighed. “Ezylryb's even been volunteering some of his quarters of vole to a few of the chicks.” His beak curled up. “You know how much he loves those.”
“Clearly the biggest sacrifice of all,” Gylfie churred, joined by Digger. These little moments of humor felt ever briefer these past few days, but they had to grasp onto them and cherish them for the sake of their sanities. Especially thinking about those chicks, and how unfair it was that they had to spend any part of their cherished childhoods like this.
Digger scooched forward and brushed a wing against his friend. “We’ll figure something out. We have to,” he tried to assure. Gylfie slowly turned and lightly nodded, not looking entirely convincing but seeming to satisfy the slightly larger bird. She was lost in thought of just what they could do, her mind going a mile a minute coming up with and then shooting down unfeasible ideas.
“It’s like my parents used to tell me,” Digger continued. “When life gets tough, do what Burrowing Owls do best: dig deep.”
Gylfie laughed a bit. It was sound advice indeed, despite the less-than-stellar pun. She stared back down at the ground, observing the mixture of thick soil and harder rock that could itself be dug into deeply, possibly even to the point of exposing the massive roots of this invaluable structure.
… It could be, couldn’t it? she thought. ... Deep enough to … to …
The Elf Owl’s eyes then widened. She slowly looked up, gazing back out at the enemy-infested hills and coast before her. She surveyed the landscape, before looking back down to study the earth’s floor once more. She could feel her heart begin to race, a spark of adrenaline she hadn't felt in days coursing through her veins. It was but a spark, but one she could feel growing into something brighter.
“What?” Digger asked, witnessing the female’s mind racing.
For like a newborn chick out of the shell, an idea had been suddenly hatched in Gylfie’s head. One that may have sounded ludicrous, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
The original Guardians of Ga'hoole series was created by Kathryn Lasky. The film Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole and its versions of the characters belong to Warner Bros.
Originally uploaded on April 29, 2020.
This chapter initially arrived in the midst of trying to navigate a certain bizarre and frustrating development plaguing DeviantArt, as well as finally getting finals out of the way. The first section is pretty straightforward, just the cementing of the siege and the failure of the Guardians to stop it from taking form. Plus we get Wortmore, a character from the books, because why not have a focal point character for the Pure Ones at the tree?
And you know, when I finished planning this fic back in January, never did I think that a widespread current event would add a relevance to how I portray the Guardians' plight. But as it turns out, this whole pandemic and what it's doing to everyone really factored in to how I thought about what living in this siege would be like. That's not to say I was ever going to go easy on these owls. I think the Ga'hoole book's idea of the impact the siege has on them was great, and would have made for a great, tense, dark sequel to the movie. So I hope to capture a sense of what it would have been like, while of course working in Soren's unfortunate situation. However, if you think that Gylfie coming up with a plan means that the worst is behind them ... nope!
Which brings us to one of my most anticipated parts of the story: Nyra coming on to Soren. It was not made secret that she held an infatuation towards him in the third chapter, so now we see her acting on it. And this is definitely up there with Of Coopers and Coils and The Kidnapping of Kiara in terms of the heaviest flirting I've had for a captor towards a captive. My thought process is that Nyra has grown so confident in herself that she foolishly thinks she can lure Soren over to her side as she did Kludd, and that his more golden heart simply makes him a bigger challenge. How will such overconfidence continue to drive and affect her? We'll see later on.
Thank you to everyone who keeps up with this fic! We're just over halfway through now. This is the most recent finished chapter of the story I have, but work on Part 6 will commence soon, alongside my upcoming TLK fics and finally continuing Robin Hood: Arrow to the Heart.
Soren's gag speech translated:
"Rhrrnnnrrhnn?" - "What do you want?"
"... Whrr?" = "... What?"
"NNRRPH!!" - "ENOUGH!!"
"Grrnnmm phnnnrr grnn rrphnnmr!" - "Keep your filthy claws off of me!"
"NNVRR!! YRRNNNPHNN!! Nnrrnng mrnnmrrhnngrr mrrnnrr!!" - "NEVER!! YOU’RE INSANE!! Nothing but a power-hungry monster!!"
"Nnnnmm whrrnnmm yrrnndnnrr!! Nnnmm whrrmm mrrnnrr!!" - "Tell me where the owls you attacked are!! Tell me where my parents are!!"
Category Story / Bondage
Species Owl
Size 990 x 720px
File Size 1.05 MB
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