Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (35 page)

Not waiting for an answer to his question,
the young owl walked out of the cave, allowing the outside air to
envelop his entire body. Although the temperature of the morning
proved uncomfortable and biting, the sight of the landscape in
front of the young owl’s eyes held what a very lustrous view.

The sight of this landscape caused a spark of
freedom to light up in Leyoht’s stomach. This spark, however, would
cease to exist when his stomach replaced it with a ravenous growl.
Ow!
he silently exclaimed while moaning.
Be
quiet!

Holding onto his stomach with his wings,
Leyoht started to walk further away from the cave. Every single
step he took brought forth a painful stretch of hunger to spread
within his stomach. Added to this was the sensation of fierce,
biting snowflakes pushing up against his face—obscuring his
vision.

Thanks to these two weaknesses, Leyoht was
forced to clutch his growling stomach while rapidly blinking his
eyes. However, by looking down at his two moving feet, Leyoht found
a solution to both his problems.

It was while watching his feet when Leyoht
caught sight of a deceased rodent—the likes of which was a
lemming—lying directly in his path. Just by staring at the carcass,
he was able to tell this creature hadn’t been lying there for very
long.

Even with that being the case, the animal
looked like it had been killed by a fiery tornado over a decade
before. The poor creature’s jaw stuck open in a locked position;
the same was the case with its limbs. In addition to stiff joints,
the eyes on the rodent seemed hollow in appearance.

It’s all I have,
Leyoht reminded
himself as he continued to look down at the corpse. He didn’t want
to admit it, but it was true. If he didn’t eat now, he would surely
starve to death.

Feeling desperate and powerless, Leyoht
repeated this statement within his head while drawing his beak
closer to the lemming’s corpse. Only a few heartbeats had come to
pass when he snapped his beak around the carrion.

It didn’t take long for Leyoht to start
gulping the lemming down into his stomach. Resisting the urge to
vomit, Leyoht took sensation of the rodent’s slightly prickly fur
as it scratched along the edges of his throat.

Because many of the lemming’s parts were
locked in place, it had proven incredibly difficult for Leyoht to
swallow the whole thing into his stomach. This was an especially
hard chore for him to accomplish—being that he had never gulped
anything whole before.

Stiff, scrawny hind legs finally hit Leyoht’s
stomach—causing him to shudder as the rodent’s body slipped through
his esophagus. Leyoht let go of his stomach while sticking a
tainted tongue out.
I hope I never have to do that again,
a
silent voice cried within him as he continued his great
migration.

Once again, the white crystals of winter
flurried around Leyoht. Was it the sky to blame—or was it the
temperature? Was there a higher power causing all of this? Somebody
Leyoht hadn’t known?

I hate the cold.
Although Leyoht was
well-aware of snowy owls’ naturally adaptabilities to cold weather,
he personally hated the current more than anything else. Without a
doubt, the young owl hated the frigidity of the world more than he
hated hunger.

I probably wouldn’t be so cold if I could
just
fly
!
The very thought echoed in Leyoht’s head as he
pushed himself further and further away from the cave.
If I
could, I would fly up to the sun and get warmer.
To Leyoht,
that was the idea of paradise.

An abrupt stop drew upon Leyoht’s feet as
this thought came to mind. Once stopped, he took a look up at the
sky and caught sight of a sea of dark-gray clouds—watching as they
swept through the sky high above his head.

A moment of silence swept into Leyoht’s mind
before he asked himself through a murmur, “But—where is the
sun?”

Before the answer to any such question could
have appeared, a series of pebble-sized chunks of hail started
raining down on the little snowy owl. In response to the hail, he
cried out, “Ouch! What is this?”

Almost every single heartbeat brought a new
block of ice to come crashing down against Leyoht’s head. Feeling
as the ice damaged him more and more without mercy, he released a
sharp cry of pain. Before long, he was forced to hold his wings up
above his head.

It was at that point when Leyoht resented his
flightless nature more than ever before. At the same time, he began
to regret having ever left the humans’ home—even though the idea of
an owl becoming dependent on another creature was unheard of.

Through a sea of horrid emotions and weather,
Leyoht continued to walk through the snow.

Rapidly blinking his eyes, the freezing owl
took a look up. The first thing he had come to notice was a dark
landscape with snow and hail blowing in almost every direction. Two
more blinks showed him a silhouette sitting directly in his
path.

By simply widening his eyes, he discovered
how the silhouette before him belonged to another snowy owl. At
this point in his conflict, such a sight seemed miraculous enough
to have only existed in his dreams. “Are—you there?” wondered
Leyoht.

The owl’s response first came in the form of
a somewhat sinister snicker.

“What?” Leyoht whispered, his caution
growing. The silhouette’s image became even more apparent—and
before long, Leyoht was staring into the eyes of a perverted
beast.

“I’ll take care of you,” the stranger
promised through a grunt-like murmur.

Only a split-second of silence came between
the two owls when the stranger took a step forward. At the same
time did he sweep a claw at Leyoht—missing him by only a feather’s
length.

As he dodged away from the swinging claw,
Leyoht found himself falling backwards. In only a heartbeat, his
back hit the snowy floor—the likes of which sent a chilling
sensation beneath his skin. Leyoht panicked as he struggled to pick
himself back up.

Fortunately for Leyoht, a large gust of wind
came running out of nowhere—blowing the horrific owl off his feet.
Seeing his chance, Leyoht stumbled up back on his feet and began to
run away from the perverted owl.

Once on his feet, Leyoht started running away
from the stranger—summoning as much speed as possible.

Even his fastest running pace was not good
enough. The speed in which he had moved made him look no quicker
than a turtle. He wasn’t sure what it was that was slowed him down
the most; was it the high snow, the piercing winds, or the high
fatigue?

Because of his laughably slow pace, Leyoht
soon felt the perverted owls’ talons wrap around his stomach. He
wanted to pretend it was his father who had grabbed him—but he knew
better.

First the sharp talons clutched onto him—then
Leyoht realized he was being carried away from the ground. It
hadn’t taken long for the owlet to find himself being carried into
the dark, cloudy sky. Only a small white sickle of light appeared
behind the clouds, struggling to blossom.

“Let me go!” Leyoht shouted at his new enemy.
He didn’t care what it took; he would get this creature to drop
him.

It was at that moment when Leyoht realized
his current experienced seemed very familiar. It was almost as if
he had undergone the experience before. Why was that the case?

As Leyoht awaited the strange owl’s response,
he took notice of an enormous tree sitting below him.
A tree!
Just what I’ve been looking for!
He took a look up at the
perverted owl before he thought with a snarl,
And
he
is
going to take that chance from me!

“Let me go!” repeated the helpless owlet
through a screech.

“Shut up!” the perverted owl snapped. “I’ll
let you go when I take you back home.”

Hearing the sound of the owls’ anger, a group
of passerby humans took a look over at the furious birds. Each one
stood on the edge of a mountain, ready for whatever passed their
eyes.

Leyoht caught sight of these creatures and
wondered,
What’s wrong with them?
While the creatures’
bodies were shaped like that of a human’s, the outer skin appeared
gray and furry—as if a human and a wolf had just interbred.

Even though they were humans—the kinds of
creatures all owls feared—Leyoht knew they were his one chance for
salvation. Just as quickly as he had come to realize t his, Leyoht
noticed every single one of the creatures seemed to have fainted
into the snowy, mountainous landslide. “No!” Leyoht cried out at
them.

“What did I tell you just now?” screeched the
other owl. “Do you want me to
drop
you from right here?
Because I w—”

Before he could have finished his sentence,
the owl felt as one of the humans’ tools lodged into his spine.
Taking notice of such a sharp pain, he suddenly released his grip
on Leyoht’s chest while falling to the ground.

Leyoht—a youthful owl in his early days—fell
to and collided with the ground with a thud. An immense amount of
pain spread through Leyoht’s body as he and closed his eyes. Not
another single other owl was to be seen as the wind brought a
sweeping sheet of snow over his body.

--

Vaguely familiar feelings, sounds, and smells
surrounded the confused owl. Opening his eyes, he realized that he
was staring into what seemed to be an oval of light. Taking a
closer look at this light, he was able to see a sheet of snow
resting outside—without a single person standing on it.

What happened to me?
thought Leyoht,
unable to comprehend just where he was and why. Before any such
answer could have come forth, however, Leyoht took sensation of
someone else’s feathers brushing against the feathers on his
back.

In complete surprise, the young owl twisted
his gaze over his shoulder and took sight of his sleeping mother.
Sitting behind her was his father.

It was all a dream?
A sense of relief
and happiness swept over his heart as he struggled to keep a shout
of his emotions from escaping through his beak.

It was while his parents were still sleeping
when Leyoht slowly crept his way over to his home’s shining hole.
It was such a heavenly sight to witness. Never before had Leyoht
been so happy to witness snow.

He cared not for his dream now; the owlet
poked his head out of the hollow and allowed an icy, cool breeze to
sweep by and carry a wave of snowflakes to his face. Little
flurries wisped by him—and that was just how he liked it.

Just when Leyoht was about to pull his head
back into the hollow, he took notice of his father sweeping his way
directly above Leyoht’s head. Only a heartbeat had passed when a
thud echoed through the hollow—the likes of which was loud enough
to wake Sahemawia from her peaceful sleep.

Taking realization of where the loud noise
was coming from, the awakened mother took a look up at her beloved,
witnessing as he stood against the wall. Switching a slightly
annoyed glance toward her mate, Sahemawia watched as Ulpheir placed
a nervous look on his face while simultaneously setting a lemming’s
carcass down by his feet.

But—I thought he was—
Leyoht silently
stammered as he switched his gaze over to where he’d first
thought
his father had been sleeping.
I could’ve—

Bringing his personal argument to an end,
Leyoht sighed just before murmuring to himself, “Never mind.”

“Never mind what?” asked Ulpheir, the lemming
in his talon.

It was after flinching when Leyoht nervously
turned himself toward his father. “Um—I didn’t say anything,” the
young owl nervously lied.

Although he was completely aware of his son’s
lie, Ulpheir paid no heed toward it. He allowed a moment of silence
to through before he shoved the lemming corpse directly under
Leyoht’s beak.

Taking notice of the lemming’s rich protein,
the suddenly hungry owlet opened a wide beak and used it to snap
his way toward the cure for his hunger.

“Are you excited about learning how to fly
soon?” Ulpheir chuckled as his son dug through the lemming.

In response to his father’s question, Leyoht
almost immediately replied with a quick nod.

It was at that moment when images of himself
in flight showed before his eyes. The very thought of flying made
him wonder how he could have ever lived a moment of his life
without such an ability. It certainly would have made his dream a
much less traumatic experience.

Once finished with his meal—which meant he
had only finished the lemming halfway—Leyoht found himself without
the ability to wait for the outdoor excitement ahead of him.

After wiping his bloody beak, Leyoht turned
toward Ulpheir and asked, “Can I go outside?”

“Sure.” Without another word, Ulpheir took
Leyoht through their drill. Even though they hadn’t gone through
the process very often, Leyoht already felt used to having his
father take him down to the ground.

Within a few heartbeats, Ulpheir stopped what
he was doing and wrapped his talons around Leyoht. Upon doing so,
he rushed down to the outside ground, dropped Leyoht off, and flew
back inside.

Now standing on the cold, soft ground, Leyoht
started himself on his way over to his friends’ nests—hoping to
greet them. Deciding to first meet up with Roseti, he placed
himself on a path to her home.

It hadn’t taken long for Leyoht to take sight
of Roseti’s home. The little nest sat in the snow, protected by the
small hills of ice surrounding it.

Upon walking up to Roseti’s nest, Leyoht
realized she was still sleeping, her parents right by her side.
Feeling as anxiety boiled up within him, Leyoht decided to walk
over to another one of his friends.

Maybe Plenot isn’t busy,
he decided.
Such a decision, however, came to an end when the sound of moaning
penetrated his ears. Curious, Leyoht rushed back to the nest.