Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land

by Alex Rey

  “I’m very disappointed in you two,” Xemson interrupted, “Very disappointed!”

  Rather than exchange apologies, the owlets now had to listen to their own teacher rant on about how bad they’d just acted.

  Leyoht was almost surprised he and Biaulae were still flying. Back with his parents, whenever an owlet found themselves in trouble, they would be called down by their parents. In this current case, not even the condition of Biaulae’s shoulders was enough to bring them down to the ground.

  “We’re still going to do this by flight,” Xemson assured. “I don’t’ care how hurt either of you are.” With this statement, he strode off toward an empty plainland. Nothing but snow rested upon this region.

  At this moment Xemson started himself on a flight, beckoning the children to follow him. Fighting against the wind blowing in the children’s ears, Xemson announced to them, “Our bodies should blend in with the color of the sky.”

  A pause came to Xemson’s words when he took a look over at Leyoht and his black coat. He grimaced at the sight; fortunately Leyoht’ hadn’t taken sight of it. “J-just follow my lead.” Another pause showed itself in the conversation before Xemson finally continued.

  “Whenever you spot an animal, swoop down to it, grab it with your talons, and kill it.”

  Leyoht nearly cringed when he heard the last two words of Xemson’s statement. Why did he have to kill something in order to live? Was there any way around this fact of life?

  Regardless of whether or not he could escape his carnivorous destiny, Leyoht locked his eyes on Xemson.

  “Just watch me.” Not a heartbeat passed when the two children’s hearts began to race. All the while did Xemson dive down toward a little tan speck on the ground.

  Is that a lemming? wondered Biaulae. Everything seemed to happen at once; their teacher’s dive toward the ground, the death of a lemming. How—even in their adulthood—would they be able to accomplish such feats?

  A cloud of water vapor tickled Xemson’s nostrils as he heaved the lemming up from the ground. Not a single blatant mind filled the area; Xemson’s trick was just that amazing. It hadn’t taken long for him to come back up at last, his talons and beak drenched in red. “And that’s how you do it!” he explained while swooping up to the children.

  Okay, Leyoht reminded himself. All I have to do is find my food, swoop down to it, and pick it up—right? This thought in mind, he started himself on a gliding search for food.

  With every muscle in his eyes did Leyoht strain himself to search for food. The tiniest splash of tan was enough to drive him to swooping down to the ground—only to have him regret ever having touched the ground. Oh, gross!

  Much to Leyoht’s confusion, Biaulae caught up and killed a lemming when he himself had already swooped down to the ground a countless amount of times. Added to this, Biaulae’s wings didn’t look like they were up to the challenge of swooping up and down in flight. How could she have possibly done better than him?

  Leyoht thought about all this for a moment—and the answer dropped in his head like a rock. My pelt! he exclaimed. If it’s black, it won’t be hidden! He felt so ignorant; the answer was under his beak this whole time! Were the stars playing a foul joke on him? Regardless of the answer, he kept his eyes peeled for his food.

  --

  “I can’t do it!

  “Come on,” Xemson grunted, “It’s now or never!” The sun had nearly completely receded from its position in the sky, and any lemming out there was surely asleep by now.

  “I’ve been at it forever! I can’t do it anymore!” Leyoht pleaded.

  Lying against her tree, Biaulae moaned through a bloody beak, “And I can’t keep eating this. I’ll explode!”

  Xemson wanted Leyoht to learn the art of hunting, but he didn’t want Leyoht to starve as a result. He was stuck between a starving child and an engorged child. It seemed as if there was only one reasonable solution to this problem.

  “Alright; fine!” Xemson huffed. “Biaulae, give him the rest of the lemming.” Rather than give Leyoht any food, however, Biaulae dragged her heavy body back up inside the tree while Leyoht carried the weight of his frail body over to the carcass.

  Food now in his presence, Leyoht buried his beak into the richness of the meat in front of him. Never before had he felt so happy to eat such a stale rodent.

  A sigh surpassed Xemson’s beak as he flew back up into his home. Upon making his way inside, a grimace upon his face was enough for Aphost to give off a look of sympathy for him. “Sad that you couldn’t teach Leyoht to hunt?” asked she.

  “You know it,” sighed her mate. “It’s because of two things: his impatience and his black feathers.”

  Not a single word missed Leyoht’s ear. Secretly was he listening in on the parents’ conversation—each word given the power of lightning bolts to his heart.

  “Are you sure he’s really a snowy owl?” Aphost wondered. “Are you sure he’s not something else?”

  “I don’t know, but Biaulae swears he’s a snowy owl.”

  “But I also could have sworn I saw him out there last night, white and all! I don’t understand it! You sure he’s not dirty?”

  “Uhm,” Xemson stammered. “Well—I’m pretty sure if he were dirty, all the black would have gone away by now; especially since he’s dove into the snow about how many times now? It’s just getting ridiculous.”

  Every single word was a hammer-swing to Leyoht’s heart. Were they right? Was Leyoht destined to lead a failure of a life in his black coat? Hoping to find out, he sat down, grabbed a hold of his own black feathers with his talons, and tugged away.

  “Ow! Ow!” he screeched. It was at this moment when he released his grip on his pelt, realizing there was no way out of his fate.

  Leyoht sighed, wondering how today would have gone had he been in Biaulae’s body. Either way they were both crippled—Biaulae by her shoulders and Leyoht by the coat on his skin.

  These thoughts in mind, it was evening after all. A yawn escaping from his beak, he ceased all thought and pulled in his feet as sleep overwhelmed him.

  --

  Through the course of the night did Leyoht sleep in heavenly peace. This night, however, proved him to be quite the heavy sleeper. A half of the moon was raised up high in the sky as sounds of the wind and sounds of screeching and howling filled the air.

  To add to Leyoht’s inability to be awoken by sound, not even the feel of Xemson carrying him back up into the tree proved enough to wake him up. If that didn’t wake him up, nothing would—or so it had seemed for the time being.

  The wind beneath his wings and about in his ears, Xemson pulled and pulled Leyoht to his rightful resting place. Such a process nearly put a crack in his spine. Regardless of the strain put into the effort of carrying Leyoht, Xemson finally made it up to the hollow’s rim.

  Slowly but surely did he float Leyoht down to a nice spot to sleep next to Aphost—and there it was Leyoht remain for the night.

  The sight of seeing such a small child fast asleep in his own home caused the sands of dreams to whither about in his head. Said sands led up to his beak: where—finally—they sprouted up from a yawn.

  Guess I better join the others, he proposed with a slightly delayed shrug. This thought in mind, he settled himself over to Aphost, closed his eyes, and let his dream roll past his eyes.

  --

  Of all the visions Xemson’s mind has picked up that night, none would shock him more than the thoughts he held about Leyoht.

  Befitting to his physical situation, Xemson’s dream began with him waking up from a deep slumber. With a quick stretch of his legs, he looked around his hollow room and realized something was missing. Or someone.

  At the moment of this realization, he called out to his mate, “Aphost? Where’s Leyoht?” But much to his disappointment and confusion, not a single word returned back to his ears. Now that he’d thought about it, not even the sound of snoring retracted into his ears. Nothing was heard except fo
r the sound of still silence.

  Are they outside? wondered Xemson. Did I oversleep and now Aphost is teaching Leyoht and Biaulae how to hunt? He could only wish.

  Eager to answer all the questions hidden beneath his skull, he rushed out through the hollow’s opening, spread out his wings, and glided out into the open, free land.

  At first Xemson intended to simply scan the area for his missing family—but his impatience got the better of him. “Leyoht?” he shouted into the air. “Aphost? Biaulae?” From the distant mountains did the father’s deep, loving voice bounce across the winter wonderland that was his home.

  Even with this thought in mind, not even the stirring of a squirrel was heard. Did everybody run away? thought Xemson. Did something happen and I missed all the excitement?

  After scanning some of the snowy plains, Xemson decided to take a dive into the small, dying forest he’d earlier taken the children. With a quick swoop down, the baffled Xemson found himself in the midst of this collection of trees. Such a collection almost made him feel as if he were truly unfamiliar with his surroundings.

  “Leyoht?” wondered he out loud. “Is anybody here?”

  “I am here.”

  An ignition of fright spreading about in his heart, Xemson hesitantly responded, “Leyoht?”

  “Leyoht is no more,” the voice sneered, “There is only Neionmt! I am the one for whom you shared your nest—and also the one for whom you have shared your nightmares with.”

  “Who are you?” screeched Xemson, more afraid than anybody had ever heard him.

  At that moment, Xemson’s faceless opponent finally came out from the shadows—chuckling all the while.

  From what Xemson was able to tell, the shadows hid behind them what was once the owl he had known as Leyoht. Yes—Leyoht’s pelt still remained black—but now he had acquired the horns of a great-horned owl, the teeth of a canine, the claws of a feline. Such an unnatural look upon somebody he thought he’d come to know caused his blood to come still, his spine to chill, his heart struck ill! But—is this really Leyoht?

  “The time of Leyoht has come and passed, just as has your time on this Earth!”

  With these words, the menacing, black owl lurched toward Xemson in the blink of an eye. Xemson hadn’t prepared for this; he wasn’t even sure if he was prepared for the moment in which he would find his family!

  No time to think about what could have been—for Xemson now felt a strange, consuming feeling wrapping around him. Only a heartbeat had come to pass when he took a look back at the spoiled excuse for what was once an innocent child. It was then when Xemson realized a black puddle of goop clinging to his feathers.

  He bit and kicked and slapped at this goop—but to no avail. This colony of black matter seemed to rise up on top of each other until all that was left of Xemson were a few shredded feathers.

  --

  With a flick of his eyes, Xemson found himself in the midst of his own home. The children slept peacefully by Aphost’s side and did not seem to hold a care in their weary minds.

  With a sigh, Xemson furtively swept out through the hollow and out into nature’s fingers. The only thing lighting the way was a blanket of stars accompanying the black sky. Littering this blanket were multiple patches of exposed clouds.

  With the intention of resting h is mind in absolute solitude, Xemson glided down to a side of his home—nearly crashing into the tree in the process. Regardless of how he’d nearly messed up his flight, Xemson ended up victorious in the end. As a result, he thought of what had just happened while leaning up against his home.

  Leyoht? Was that Leyoht? If so, what did he do to everybody? And why would he want to drive everybody away?

  At that moment Xemson took hearing of a little moan coming from above.

  “Huh?” wondered Xemson while taking a look up. It was then when his eyes took in the sight of Leyoht gripping onto the hollow’s edge with his feet.

  With a sudden flap of his wings, Leyoht fell off this edge and came down to the ground—screaming all the while. Fortunately for him, he was able to receive balance in his wings at the last moment. It was, however, a moment too late to keep him from lightly crashing into the ground.

  “Leyoht!” Xemson hissed, paying no heed to whatever pains plagued Leyoht. “You could’ve woken somebody up!”

  A chuckle sprouted from Leyoht’s beak when he apologized. “Sorry; but forget about that!”

  “What do you mean?”

  With a small grumble, Leyoht wrapped his wings around his stomach. “My stomach’s hurting me.”

  It was at this point when Leyoht released a dry cough from the back of his throat. Gradually did a fit of coughing go from dry to wet, from faint to cacophonous. While this series of hacking seemed severe in the eyes of an untrained person, Xemson simply sat back as Leyoht continued to cough. There it is! he silently exclaimed as the sound of vomiting emerged from Leyoht’s beak.

  What resulted from this fit of coughing and vomiting was the appearance of a pellet sitting upon the ground. Upon opening his eyes, Leyoht looked down at the owlet pellet with disgust clinging onto his stomach.

  “Wh-what is that?” he stammered.

  “What?” Xemson chuckled, “You’ve never seen a pellet before?”

  “No!” snapped Leyoht, peering ever-closer to the pellet.

  “Since you ate some fur and bones along with that lemming,” began Xemson, “you’re going to have to get rid of them through your beak.” A moment of silence commenced between the adult and the child.

  “That can’t be right!” sneered Leyoht.

  “Well—it is.” With these words, Xemson released a sigh just before flying back up to the tree.

  With a pout forming upon his shoulders, Leyoht took a sea while still staring at the furry, slightly glutinous pellet in front of his face. If that will come out of me every time I eat something, I may as well not eat!

  Stupid Xemson. Why haven’t I ever seen this thing come out of anybody else’s beak? Let’s see him explain that! These thoughts in mind, Leyoht suddenly loosened up enough to lean closer and closer to the pellet. With time he came to the point where two of his razor-sharp talons started digging into this waste.

  It doesn’t feel anything like I thought it would! silently the hooked owlet cooed. The components of this pellet made him believe a ball of fluff had been compressed long enough to make up this stable log-shaped group of fur and bone.

  Leyoht found nothing but fur until his fingers ran into what felt like a pebble. Huh? wondered he, curious to find out what this hard bump was. With a little more excavation, his eyes led him to what appeared to be a skull.

  I—ate that? he asked of himself, dumbfounded. Now that he’d thought about it, it would have caused him a great deal of pain had these bones not come out through his beak.

  This thought delving further and further into his head, he realized that the action of the pellet coming through his beak hadn’t hurt him much at all.

  A sigh surpassed him when he continued to dig through the cluster of fur and bone. Through excavation was he able to decipher what was fur and what was bone; such actions made him feel the curiosity and willpower of a human child.

  Before too long Leyoht ran into the vertebrae of the lemming he’d earlier eaten. I can’t believe I ate that! The bone hung onto his claw as this thought and many more aroused his head.

  It wasn’t too long when a yawn surpassed his beak. At the same time did his vision start to fade. In an attempt to save himself from falling asleep in the mist of the dangerous outside world, Leyoht flapped his way back up to the hole in the tree. It was then and there when he slept peacefully.

  --

  Even when asleep, Leyoht’s mind continued to stir.

  Leyoht’s mother was dead.

  Leyoht’s father was dead.

  Leyoht’s old neighbors and friends were dead.

  Leyoht’s only sibling was dead.

  Only he was left.

  Chapter X
IV

  A Familiar Setup

  It was another regular night for the two little owls—a night of prosperity for Pesstian and Leyai. Not a single problem had come to pass upon them. No blizzards, no death, no starvation; what could have possibly gone wrong today? The answer to such a question was: boredom.

  For the past few days had Pesstian taken notice of the human’s progress to make their selves at home. Or—at least I think that’s what they’re doing. If anything else but insanity-inducing boredom was notoriously ever-present on this day, it was the amount of confusion placed into Pesstian’s head—all concerning the humans. Over and over again did he loop the images he’d seen last night—all the images of the cylindrical compounds making up the human nests.

  What was it about the compounds making up the nests that perplexed Pesstian? The very textures and shapes of these compounds looked as if the humans found them in an unfamiliar place to owls. Even with this fact in mind, Pesstian felt as if he knew who or what these objects were; he almost felt sorry for them.

  In Pesstian’s mind, the humans’ nests were unfamiliar, yet made within the familiar. Pesstian was wrong. Boredom wasn’t insanity-inducing; this series of unanswered questions was insanity-inducing! Only answering these questions could resolve the problems on the minds of anybody involved.

  There he was, sitting next to Leyai—who had just awoken from a deep sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced over to Pesstian when she took notice of the worried look on his face. Such a look caused a hammer to swing down at her heart. While she wanted to ask what was troubling him, she was afraid of disturbing his thoughts.

  I’m going to investigate. Pesstian decided. With these few silent words, he raised his wings into the air and lifted off toward the humans’ homes. What are those humans doing? Never before had he felt so intrigued by their works, so confused by their actions.

  Pesstian’s flight came to a halt at the sight of a cart made of the same material as the humans’ homes. What are they going to do with that? wondered he. Before the answer could have come to his head, a few words of the human language started the cart off.