a/n: Book tag: The War of the Ember (book #15). Spoilers for ending. Alternate Ending. Words taken from chapter 29 "The Last Glow" pg. 220-223. And The Centipede Song from "The Capture". Enjoy!

A Wolf's Eyes Are Green

Soren was not an owl who lusted for blood and death, but it was at desperate times when as a Guardian that he had to fight for the Owl Kingdom, and not just that, but the Animal Kingdom as a whole—but even still he did not wish for blood and death. But in this moment, he lusted towards both.

Nyra was dead and it was as if some shadow had lifted from his gizzard and heart now that the deformed Barn Owl hagsfiend had perished, but he preferred the shadow to the reality of the moment. Nyra's deserving death was not worth the life of Coryn, his dear nephew and king. And that was what he was seeing before his dark eyes; blood streamed from Coryn's port wing. It hung at an odd angle. His flight pattern was unbalanced. The Striga wheeled about and started his advance on the injured owl.

"No!" Soren screeched. He would not allow this. He would see this blue owl dead before allowing the owl to touch a tail feather on his nephew.

He roared in, his talons, enclosed in ancient battle claws, formally worn by his mentor Ezylryb, extended. Blood sprayed the hot air inside the volcano, evaporating into the steam as a blue head flew in the opposite direction of a blue body, swallowed by jumping lava. But then there was something else, something most terrible that gave Soren's gizzard one of the most harshest shocks—as harsh a shock as when he had discovered that his little Bell had gone missing—the tawny bloodstained wing of a Barn Owl floated almost lazily down, where it was consumed instantly by hungry flames.

"Coryn! Coryn!" Soren watched, his gizzard quaking as Coryn plummeted. Soren flew to him, and, with battle claws still extended, caught his nephew and cradled him in those claws as if he were a chick just out of the shell.

Soren flew him from the volcano and set down on the base below. Nothing else mattered, not the battle around him that seemed to have hushed. All that mattered was the owl at his talons.

"Uncle, I am dying." Coryn chocked.

"No!" Soren whispered. "No! Coryn, no! Cleve can fix you." He wasn't sure how the Spotted owl could, but in that moment it didn't matter, he had to live. He had to!

"I am fine. I don't need wings where I am going."

Soren was helpless as the young owl's eyelids fluttered closed as he lost consciousness. Coryn wanted to tell his dear Uncle, don't worry, but his breath was gone. Before he left for Glaumora, he heard howling—the howling of dire wolves.

The Band arrived, surrounding the two Barn Owls, in complete different states. "The king is dead!" It was to late, the king was dead, his wounds to grievous. Soren felt his gizzard clench painfully inside of him, even worse then when he realized that it was Kludd who had pushed him from the nest when he was a hatchling.

Soren stood vigil over his nephew's body as he surveyed the battlefield. While Coryn lay dying and he was helpless, the enemy had been routed and defeated. He wanted to believe that the deaths that they had suffered was worth the termination of all the Pure Ones and Hagsfiends, but this single death was different from all the rest. Tears leaked from his black eyes and dropped onto the still feathers of the Barn Owl hugged to him. Things would never be the same.

Suddenly, there was roar and ground started to shake beneath him. The wolves started howling. Owls took flight. But Soren stayed where he was, not budging a feather. Something was happening, he didn't know what, all he knew was that he felt it in his gizzard and his gizzard was never wrong.

A misty configuration came to be before the Barn Owl's eyes, and Soren knew that this was his nephew going to Glaumora. But then it started to glow, glow brighter than anything he had ever seen—brighter than the sun, bright as the stars. He blinked rapidly, lifting a wing to block out some of the luminosity that threatened to blind him. Wind gusted around him, threatening to blow him over, but he dug his talons in, staying firm as the light burst, and then there was darkness.

Soren was dazed. All he could see was dark, no stars, no moon. It felt like it was crushing him, he could hardly breathe. What had happened? Did Coryn make it to Glaumora? Did that explosion of light kill him? But suddenly the weight was gone and he could breath again. So maybe he was just blind after all. He lay on his back, and started when he felt something warm and wet run across his face. He picked up the panting, a dire wolf, right in front of his beak. His second eyelid ran multiple times over his eye and he started to see again, not blind after all.

He flapped his wings and lofted back onto his feet and blinked at the small, tawny coloured wolf in front of him.

"Uncle, you will never believe what just happened!"

"Uncle? What did you—"

"Soren, it's me!"

"Me?"

"Coryn."

Soren jumped back in shock. This wolf had the nerve to do this to him when he'd just lost his nephew? To play this harsh joke on him? He was sickened. These wolves were supposed to be warriors of honour.

"How dare you!" Soren screeched at the wolf, swiping at him with a battle claw.

The wolf yelped and jumped back, barely dodging the attack. Soren lofted into the air, readying for another swing, when he came to the realization that Coryn's body was no longer there. Anger drowned out all his gizzard was trying to tell him, as he swooped in for another blow.

The wolf's eyes were wide in shock as Soren kept coming at him, like he didn't understand what had angered this Barn Owl so. He needed to solve this quickly, before he got injured or even killed—he wasn't sure what would happen this time around.

"What gives you a wriggle
And makes you giggle
When you eat 'em?
Whose weensy little feet
Make my heart really beat?
Why, it's those little creepy crawlies
That make me feel so jolly.
For the darling centipede
My favorite buggy feed
I always want some more..."

The small verse stilled the battle claw. This was the song that he always used to sing to Eglantine when they were still in the nest, and it was the song that he had song to Coryn one night when they were sharing stories. This wolf had no way of knowing this song, it was one that he had made up himself. He looked closely at the wolf, stared into his green eyes.

Soren suddenly wilfed. His wings froze, he was going yeep. But the fall didn't matter any, he was only five feet from the ground. What he saw in those eyes had shocked him so. He was Coryn, as he was, and as he was now.

"Coryn?" Soren whispered, climbing back to his feet.

The wolf nodded, and nosed his Uncle gently. "I tried to tell you, Uncle."

"Well, this—this is very unexpected." Soren replied, ruffling his feathers as he looked up at his nephew—who seemed to have transformed into a dire wolf. "How is this possible?"

"I suppose that it is like the wolves who are in the service of the ember, when it is retrieved they have the choice to become whatever they wish. I always said that I would come back a wolf if I ever had to choice." Coryn said.

Soren looked at him in wonder. When Coryn had hatched on the lunar eclipse, it was really the opposite of what happened to his mother, Nyra. She was cursed, while Coryn had truly been blessed. On the surface, looking back on his life, one might not thinks so, but Soren knew differently. Glaux was truly looking out for his nephew.

"What do you suppose is going to happened now?" Soren wondered.

"I'm staying in the Beyond, and you will go back to the Great Ga'Hoole Tree and become it's new King."

Soren didn't look so sure about that plan. Howling of the wolves reached them. Coryn's ears flickered, and he gazed at Soren, pleased with what he seemed to hear, though Soren couldn't make heads or tails of it. Coryn had always found the sound beautiful, even when he didn't understand it, but now that he did, the sound rivalled that of Madame Plonk's voice.

"It is the song of the Monarch." Coryn clarified for his Uncle. Soren looked at him in confusion. "There will be a new king, unembered but Glaux blessed."

"No!" Soren gasped at him.

"Yes," Coryn told him. "Now is your time, your time, Soren."

"But why?"

"You were chosen, just as I was, just as Hoole was."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"You no longer have a gizzard anymore," Soren pointed out stubbornly.

Coryn huffed in exasperation at his Uncle. "I was in Glaumora, I was in the presence of Glaux, trust me, I know."

"Alright." Soren said reluctantly. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Of course!" Coryn pawed at him playfully, already at home in his new body. "Nothing's changed between us."

Soren gave him wry look.

"Okay! But not much, just wings turning into paws. I know I'll miss the wind in my feathers, but I feel this was who I was truly meant to be." Coryn explained with passion.

Soren nodded. He could see the truth in his nephew's words through the happy, green shine of his eyes. He was unburdened, truly. And that made Soren more happy than his gizzard could handle. All he ever wanted was for his dear nephew to be himself, and it seemed Glaux answered his prayers.

After great tragedy, there is always great relief.

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I hoped that you liked it, and I hope that you review!

I watched the movie and found out about the books. It took me a few weeks to read all fifteen, but I finally did it—as you can see—but I just couldn't believe how it ended—Coryn dead!? So I thought this up, bringing back the young king, and giving him his wish; if he could come back as any animal, it would be a wolf!

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