Dour Druid

The Owl.

22nd of Trescia, 1492.

Blighted Woods, Redagh Republic.

18:33.

***

The Owl arrived in Redagh, surprised, for the Owl had never seen so many Shadows of Death haunting so many mortals in one place. Yet there was little to do but sit and wait for the coveted moment that would bring about the avatar of pestilent purity.

That, however, was not to say the Owl was bored. On one wing, the Owl could watch the many subordinates of the Troupe learn and grow and train for days on end while mere hours passed by elsewhere. On the other wing, the Owl could watch a dour druid be verbally beaten and mentally abused by her so-called loving flock.

That was not to say she was without fault, however, for she was a rebellious teen who often did the opposite of what'd been demanded of her. Such things were typical at her age. But in this instance, it yielded lethal results. And so, here the Owl was, watching the little birds react to a threat with panic and destruction from the concealed perch of the Cane of Duality, standing at the center of Redagh's Blighted Woods.

There was, however, a problem. As a child of the Fae, the Owl could use neither magic nor material to put the dour druid to sleep. Thus the Owl could not induce nightmares in her to offer the pact. Thus a different means of approach was necessary.

Thus it was necessary for the Owl to do a little work. With materials born from Eotrom and corrupted in the Realm of Shadows, the Owl tinkered and toyed to make a gift, an offering, and for later, a reward. That was all that was needed. No preparation before, and little to tidy up after.

One little gift to see the offer accepted. One little present to make her into something incredible. Then, the Owl would sit back and enjoy the show.

***

Reina Featherfall.

***

For some reason or other, something attracted me to that place of cracked mud and withered branch. A forbidden place. Opened to only the cats and the ravens. The rodents and the serpents. A place where silence was ever peaceful.

I loved this place, and perhaps that was why. The silence. Something I could never find within the group of nests I called home. Always chirping. Always squawking. Always flapping. Even in their sleep. Much less in flight. I could never stand it. Thus I came here.

Something the flock could never stand.

Not even when things began to change.

It all happened so fast. Word of Lady Indra going to the great Bodhi Tree came to us as it did every year. With it came the arcane shells that let us witness the power of the students found there.

All but one.

I knew the tales of his family, but I thought nothing of it. Not until I saw the great tree of void overshadow the great Bodhi Tree. And then came the earth herself, pulled from the ground to take root in the sky and be seen as sacred by all who called her home. Even when it occluded the sun.

Lady Indra returned changed. Stressed but relieved all the same. Shocked as were we after coming to witness the child of darkness take no harm from the son of light, then proceed to defeat him without effort.

Lady Indra returned and called to council the ancient elves. Something my father turned sour about. But life proceeded as normal all the same. Only, it did not. The Great Rock, the Second Sun, the Silver Eye. Whatever it was called, pulled the seas into a dance as it drifted around the peninsula. Creatures big and small thrived in the light it gave off in the night.

Everyone became obsessed with denial. While confirming it was indeed a divine act, they vehemently refused to think the child of darkness was the cause. Many became angry and bitter. Lady Indra became closed and distant. The groves split, allying or starting petty rivalries over who they thought was right.

I was convinced we were wrong when the nests became ever louder. Thus my trips here became more frequent. And therein I noticed another miracle. A miraculous sight that I became obsessed with seeing.

I began staying up later and later, moving to a nocturnal schedule until I caught the ire of my parents. And so, I resorted to acting as I am now. Watching and waiting for the sun to close behind the Mortal Plane.

Therein brought upon another past time of mine, however. People watching.

For hours, I would stand at the far borders of the Blighted Woods and look across the great rift. Where the other druids saw a sea of stone below and a towering mountain before them, straddling two wildly differing landscapes. I saw a realm of mysteries and adventure.

All across the mountain were roads cut into the stone with railings of metal to support the carts or marching bands that always seemed to make use of them. I always found myself wondering where they were going. What they were carrying. And most importantly, how they made those strange wheeled boxes of wood and metal; and why they had to be pulled by other beasts.

I was told they were traveling to and from the various mines around the mountain. Places where they would attack the earth to gather metals or salt. Others told me the dwarves sold fantastic things at steep prices, so travelers would come to the mountains too. I could never understand why, though. Nor could I find out what exactly the dwarves sold that were so fantastic. Not even when the poachers were questioned.

Looking north, I could look through the scattered clouds and see the expanding tundras of the Ligin Kingdom, said to be home to mounted bandits and knightly kingdoms that lived within city walls. But that only led me to wonder what they looked like, how they lived, and what exactly they were mounted on.

To the south, I saw the war-torn lands of the Kasian Empire, said to be overrun with orcs and goblins that kept the native humans and dwarves in a state of constant war. But I could never understand why the humans and dwarves just wouldn't leave, kill, or subjugate the others like they always seemed to do.

There were always so many questions. And as the months passed, those questions only grew until I found myself wondering how tiny rocks could float above the mountains or in nearby cities. I wondered how other rocks, some made of gas and fire, began to dance around the Silver Eye high above the sky. I wondered how the strange things used to navigate the mountain started to move on their own, go faster, or in some cases, fly.

"So many questions." I sputtered my lips in lament. "Never an answer."

Turning away from the landscape, I sought to check on the progress of the miracle. Only to find myself face-to-face with the most beautiful owl I had ever seen. Black than night, it was, with gold accents all along its lush feathers. The facial disk, shaped like a child would draw a heart, held a pair of eyes that seemed to be filled with countless stars.

"Hello." I reached out cautiously. "What is your name-"

A sharp squawk cut me off before I could finish. Sighing heavily, I turned and attempted to make my plea with a childish pout. "But it's not dusk yet!"

Another squawk was the only reply before the hawk took flight with haste.

"Gone are the days that work." I sighed, relenting. But took another look at the owl before I stepped off, only to find two feathers in its place. And so, after taking the one that didn't disappear into the dark mist, I tentatively left the Blighted Woods, finding myself back in the canopy of Deep Woods moments later.

The only world I had ever known.

When I found my perch in the nest I was met with a scowl only a mother could give. Tears welled and fell down her leather face, giving her stone-gray eyes a look that betrayed her brows nearly clashing together. Her body slouched as if relieved, but her scowl and worse, her tone, was nothing short of furious.

"Venturing in the blighted woods again?" She rapidly chirped.

"Nothing will happen to me out there." I turned away, muttering.

"And yet, an owl perched before you!" My father snapped, rolling his 'r's' in that ear-grating way. "A black owl, Reina. You should fear for your fledging as I do." He sneered, pulling his face back in a way that made him look centuries older.

'That again.' I rolled my eyes. Though I knew I should not have. It was a ceremony most important to our grove. The time when we would first bond with the giant birds.

"You are to fly tomorrow." Mother said in a pleading tone. "Yet, you persist on tainting yourself with that desolate place!"

"But, we are of the Feathered Grove!" I insisted, then began reaching into the folds of my tunic. "Ravens have feathers! As do owls. Look- ow!"

A stinging pain swelled in my hand the moment the gold-limned feather was pulled free. "You brought it to our nest?" Mother shrieked, backing away as Father disposed of it with a leaf-gloved hand. "You brought it to our nest!" She hissed this time, approaching me with her lips curled and her fist clenched. But I stood defiantly.

"Are you to strike me?"

"I very well may!" She squawked, flailing her arms. "And I'd be well within my rights to do so! You brought an omen into our nest, Reina!"

"Owls are no more evil than hawks!" I pointed towards Cherry, causing the proud raptor to recoil on her perch outside. "And if that is deserving of a strike, then I will bring the owl here myself and prove you wrong!"

Perhaps for the first time, my words got through to her. My dearest mother stood with her mouth agape for a few moments before she gripped my arm and dragged me outside, pulling me straight past my father as she spread her powers into our tree.

I knew at once where we were going. Thus when the the winding halls of wood revealed a closed nest housing a shockingly young-looking woman with spindly limbs, I was hardly surprised.

"Forgive this intrusion, Head Druid." Mother bowed, sidestepped, and pointed an accusing finger at me. "But my daughter needs to tell you of the taboo she has committed."

If there was any concern felt by Head Druid, she showed it not. She smiled patiently as I winced at my mother's words. And calmly, she said. "Sit, Reina. Pray tell us, what happened."

I took a deep breath before I began, and soon noticed the many birds surrounding me and my parents on various perches. "I have been spending time in the Blighted Woods. I have ventured there in secret every evening. I have done so for over a year."

A chorus of squawks echoed my words. Gasps from the stands of birds. And my parents. But not the Head Druid. She only asked. "Why?"

"I enjoy the silence," I said calmly, suddenly uncaring of what was to come. I was already in the worst possible spot. Only a few things could have made the situation worse. Thus there was no use being afraid.

"It is the only place I can go without hearing mother and father- nay, the entire grove arguing with each other," I said, still calm as I looked over each shoulder to meet my parent's eyes. "It is the only place I can go to rid my ears of the arguments about the Silver Eye and the so-called Champion. The only place I can be free of my mother and father's frustrations being released on me.

"I go there, Head Druid, because I don't believe the Blighted Woods to be cursed, or even desolate. Life has appeared there. Cats of all types. Minks. Badgers. Mole rats. Rodents. Ravens. Many creatures. And yes, that includes owls. Creatures made by the Mother of Earth herself. How can they be evil, Head Druid, if they were created by the Mother?

"And, recently." I pressed on, uncaring of her answer. "Something incredible has started to happen there. It only happens at dusk and dawn. Believe me, Head Druid. In time, it will be green again."

She took my words in strides. Her face never changed, no matter how many points I made. Points that I knew rang true in the hearts of everyone present. The silence she let stretch on was proof enough; for, long ago, I realized such pauses were more theatrics than truthful pondering.

As were the questions that came after.

"Do you know the history behind the Blighted Woods?" She eventually asked. And unlike her, I wasted no time with my answer.

"Research on the woods is forbidden. Not that there are any records of it to speak of. Like everyone else, all I was told was that had been the state of it for centuries."

"The Raven Reaper created the blighted woods." She clarified. And strangely, many chirps and whistles rang through the nest.

"Well, she was a druid, yes?" I said, remembering all I could about her. "And a cleric. Just because her clerical powers were of death does not mean her druidic powers did not come from the Mother of Nature. Death is a part of life too."

"Enough!" Father stomped behind me, shocking me off my feet. But the head Druid waved him off.

"You are well-studied, Reina. And wise beyond your years," she said with a discomforting smile. "What you say is true. Corvus Cole was a cleric of Grimm and a druid, in addition to being a Dhampir. But ravens and owls are omens of death still. Not because of their natures. But because of the malevolent deities who claimed them.

"No deity claims the owl." I calmly countered. But she pressed on.

"Doubly so for the creatures of that place. It is a corrupted land, tainted with death. It is tainted not because of latent energies." She quickly added before I could counter. "But a type of... pheromone or spore. In truth, we know not what it is, other than its nature to spread to those nearby, corrupting their minds and killing their bodies slowly. The creatures you speak of are immune to those toxins.

"But you, Reina." She leaned back into her perch while her smile faded into a grim look of calm, then pointed a spindly finger in my direction. "You are already dead. And to bring a feather into the nest invites the same fate to us all. We cannot perch idly and allow this omen to befall us as well.

"By right of the Head Druid of the Feathered Forest, I banish thee, Reina Featherfall, from the Grove Republic of Redagh." She coldly decreed, sealing my fate with a wave of her hand.

"You have one hour to take flight."