Another one-shot I created at the same time as Uninhibited. Nice and dark, as is my style, but the plot isn't completely evil. I will leave it at that.

Read and review, if you wish. Toodles, everypony!

Enjoy!

Reccuring

A very noble and seasoned Barn Owl couple was flying through the forest in which they were born, drifting along as silent as scrooms. They scouted the Forest Kingdom of Tyto intently, their diligent expressions masking the frustration and anger in their churning gizzards.

There had been unverified reports that a rogue Barn Owl of unknown gender was attacking and killing other owls, though for what purpose was still unknown. The monarchs had sent a pair of newly-recognized Guardians from the Tracking Chaw, a female Burrowing Owl and a male Sooty Owl, to locate the murderer and bring it back to the Great Tree for questioning and punishment.

The two Guardians in question had left a week prior, and sadly, they had not returned.

The mated Tytos feared the absolute worst, and had made it their personal mission to put an end to the horror caused by the unknown owl. The Tytos could literally detect the fear laced throughout the air, and it unnerved them.

Nonetheless, they maintained their focus, scanning with their cold black eyes and listening fervently with their sensitive ear slits.

They were well-prepared to battle the aggressor, both sporting a set of nickel-alloy super talons forged by Bubo. In addition to their augmented claws, the male wielded a specially-crafted steel scimitar, while the female carried a duo of medium-sized nickel daggers.

First Black was only a few hours away, and so the faint green glow of the light filtering through the pine and fir trees bore noticeable tinges of orange and pink. They had entered the swath of conifers a full three minutes ago, and had not seen any other flying creatures, let alone the killer they were searching for.

But they could never be too cautious, for he or she could ambush them at any moment and potentially wound one of them beyond repair. And neither Tyto would allow that to happen to the other. Their love was too resilient, and their ferocity was unmatched.

They were certain that an owl was going to die that day, and it was not going to be either of them.

The male was beginning to feel weary from the long flight, and he was in no condition to fight at the moment.

He turned to his mate and whispered, "Pelli, I need to perch on that fir branch and rest for a short while."

"Alright Soren. I need to recover as well."

They flew on for a few more feet, aiming for the spindly bough in question. They braked by flaring their wings, planning how they were to land with their weapons. Their claws were long enough to allow them to wrap their talons around the branch, securely pinning the hilts against the bark. Soren's scimitar, however, protruded into open air, and so he turned it sideways and laid it along the limb.

He breathed lightly but deeply, satiating his overexerted system with plentiful amounts of oxygen.

They raked the surrounding land independently of each other, awaiting the slightest audible or visual signal that they were not alone. There was absolute silence for well over a minute, and then it was rudely broken.

The sound of a twig very near their location being snapped snagged their attention, and they whipped their heads to the right.

Soren gripped his scimitar tighter as he leaned forward, trying to peer around the trunk and see what was on the other side that could have caused the disturbance. Pelli imitated him, extending her right wing and planting it on the trunk for balance.

No wonder the monarchs were completely oblivious to the creature zooming directly at them from behind.

The stranger targeted the female on the right, raising her sword in attack position. Soren felt his perch suddenly shake, and then a heart-wrenching shriek of agony seared the air.

It was Pellimore's.

"AHHH! Soren! My wing… I can't… FLY! HELP!"

An ivory blur of motion raced away from Soren, but he did not pursue it.

He hurled his scimitar at the ground and dove for his plummeting mate. He dreaded to think of what injuries she would sustain if she hit the earth at that speed, and so he folded his wings in to nullify any air resistance.

He rocketed for her like a comet, braking at the last possible seconds and extending his battle claws. He caged her midsection and spiraled to the pine-needle smothered turf, touching down next to her two daggers.

He placed her on her back and rooted himself at her side, utterly confused and panicked at the situation she was in.

"Pellimore, what's the matter? Please tell me!"

She locked her teary ebony eyes on him, her beak trembling as she stuttered a response.

She screamed, "Soren… my wing… it's broken! Oh Glaux… it hurts! IT HURTS, SOREN!"

Her left wing was perfectly normal, but her right was clearly and grievously malformed.

Halfway along its length it was bent upwards, a tiny sliver of bone visible in the center of a scarlet patch of feathers. The stain was spreading slowly and steadily as he watched, and the sight nearly made him go yeep.

Her harsh yell came not a moment too soon, ensuring that he stayed alert: "Go find help… Soren! Please… I'm begging you!"

He shook his head from side to side, unable to contemplate such a course of action.

"I… I can't! I refuse to leave you here while you suffer! A predator could come along and eat you!"

She whimpered, "You'll have to take that risk! I can't… stand this pain!"

Soren was utterly torn in two, his brain ordering him to obey her request and his gizzard demanding that he stay by her side and comfort her. He stroked her heart-shaped face to try and stifle her tears, and on the fourth stroke, a scathing female voice filtered into his ear slits.

"Oh, what a pity. It seems I've rendered her useless now. But it needed to be done, as I do not admire an unfair fight."

Soren spun his entire body and spied a partially-defeathered Barn Owl standing a few feet away, a hefty sword for her size embedded vertically in the soil next to her. She wore dull gray battle claws that also seemed excessively heavy, their upper edges serrated.

His gizzard contorted with limitless rage, and from his beak came a gruff shrill.

"You! How dare you touch my mate! Do you know not who we are, filthy Tyto?"

She tilted her head mockingly, unfazed by his superheated words.

"You possess not a shred of knowledge regarding my identity, and yet you take me for a fool? You will learn shortly that I harbor much more information in my brain than you, pathetic Tyto."

The male hissed at her, but she continued, "You are Soren, the King of Ga'Hoole. And that is Pellimore, the Queen of Ga'Hoole, who I easily defeated with a single strike."

"What is your name? And are you responsible for the murders in this forest?"

"My name is Senka. And yes, I am the source of the despair that is gaining hold here. But I am not a murderer, though you outsiders have a propensity for labeling me as such. No, I am a hunter, an assassin with extreme skill. And what better creatures to hunt than owls? I am always craving a challenge, and the delicious, fresh meat that never fails to come afterwards. It all began with my parents two months ago, and my latest victims happened to be two Guardians of yours."

She motioned to her unattractive body with her wings and added, "These scars are but a reminder of the challenges I have faced and overcome, of the owls I have killed and eaten. I wear them with pride, and I am grateful for every wound I have received thus far."

Soren was stunned into disbelief, a firestorm of loathing scorching him from the inside out. He was overcome with an uncontrollable desire to spill every last drop of her blood and end her life, to rip her scroom right out of her body with no regret.

Soren failed to recall a time in his life when he had been subject to such a level of indignation.

He jerked his head around rapidly and noticed his weapon half-buried behind him, just out of wing-reach. He hopped backwards twice and established a crushing grip in the hilt with his right foot, pointing the honed tip at the spot on her chest where her heart resided.

He narrowed his coal-black eyes and shrieked, "I am going to slaughter you! You shall never witness the darkness of another First Black ever again! I will send you to Hagsmire for all eternity!"

Senka propelled herself into the air and extracted her sword in a smooth motion. She then hovered in place, bearing it in a taunting manner.

"You are sorely mistaken, overconfident king. No one has ever come across me and escaped, and you two monarchs are no different! I will massacre you both, and then dine on your corpses while they are still warm!"

Soren beat his wings and leapt into the air, dashing headlong at Senka.

Their bladed arms met with a loud clang, the shock of the impact coursing through his talons and into his legs. His first priority was to draw her away from Pellimore, and then he would be at liberty to fight her without having to worry about his mate.

He channeled the animosity from his gizzard to his mind and bones, harnessing his hate and using it as fuel rather than letting it overpower him. He drove her further and further away with a series of calculated swipes, though she blocked with little effort.

Her sword must have been at least half her body weight, and Soren was put off by the fact she could swing it without throwing herself off balance. It was obvious she had trained herself to use it well, and so he would have to take utmost caution to avoid being hit.

Nonetheless, with increased offense came decreased defense, and all Soren had to do was outmaneuver her.

He was lighter and faster by comparison, and he was determined to exploit his advantage to the fullest. After having his seventh attack blocked, he forcefully pushed the sword away and streaked past her.

"Ugh! Where are you going, coward? Come back here, pile of racdrops!"

He flew deeper into the stands of trees, but halted before his mate was out of sight. He performed a swift half turn and raised his scimitar just in time to block a downward swing from Senka. He ignored the momentary numbness in his talons and slashed upwards.

Senka back-winged, leaving his scimitar to split the thin air where her face would have been.

He swore under his breath and lunged for her, their blades crossing between them. Neither Tyto was yielding, the two metal objects quaking as their owners applied more and more pressure.

"You… have strength… Soren. I will admit… that much. But you don't… have enough!"

She tilted her sword, and Soren sensed that she was going for a diagonal cut. He let up for an instant, and then heaved downwards as the sword arced off to his lower left.

He used the momentum to spin himself in a circle, tilting his scimitar sideways as he did so. He felt a slight tug a moment before he faced her, and he knew he had cut her.

When his spin was complete, he noticed a horizontal line of blood forming on her upper chest.

Senka hissed, "You were lucky! Try to hit me again!"

"My pleasure!" he replied darkly.

They clashed once more, taking turns slicing and parrying the multitude of blows they exchanged. Soren stabbed at her midsection, only to have his blade knocked upwards roughly.

He faltered as he barely stopped the tip from piercing his skull, and Senka shot up and over him. She opened up a narrow vertical on his lower back as she sailed away, severing one of his tail feathers in the process.

He went yeep momentarily as a stinging spike of pain raced up his spine, landing hard on his talons. He twisted his head backwards and watched as his overheated blood soaked his tail and dripped off the tips of his feathers.

A constant ache moved in as the former agony dissipated, and his damaged tail meant that his in-flight steering would be affected. He groaned and twisted his head back to a normal position.

"How do you like that? Have another!" Senka yelled, rushing at him from between two fir saplings.

Soren was knocked off his feet as he deflected the incoming blow, his laceration rubbing against the smattering of pine needles. He screeched as he ground to an agonizing halt, the tip of Senka's weapon craving to inflict a treacherous puncture as she descended towards him.

He rolled to the left and dodged, struggling to his feet before she could recover. Soren was fatigued by this point, his blood loss compounding his exhaustion. He could not afford to let the sparring session continue for much longer, or his body would give out from the stress.

And when his body gave out, she would not hesitate to kill him.

"This struggle… has only… just begun…" he taunted, his chest heaving in and out.

"Correction. It is almost over!"

Senka ran at him and went for his heart, but it was a feint meant to distract him.

After he parried it, she pinned his armament to the dirt with her left talon and rammed the hilt of her own into his gut. He staggered in reverse a few paces, swaying awkwardly to stay upright.

A chilling ache claimed his entire midsection, but he eventually steadied himself.

"I will not give up… until your lifeless body… is under my talons!"

"Then your steadfastness shall be your undoing. You cannot defeat me, worthless king!"

She sprung at him using a wing-assisted pounce, but she never expected what he did next.

He jumped into the air, transferred his scimitar to his other foot, and clamped his right foot around her right wing. He thus dangerously exposed the right side of his body, but he compensated by slicing her entire left flank from wing to leg.

He flung her away as she cried out in pain, fumbling with her sword and releasing it. He pursued her and planned to finish her while she was down, but she regained her wits as he approached her.

She blinked away the tears in her eyes and opened her battle claws wide, simultaneously parrying and grabbing Soren's scimitar. She tore it away from him and tried to graze his face, but he barrel-rolled to one side.

She then flung it into the trees and got to her feet, now panting as desperately as her adversary was. Her afflicted side was now tinted pink, a sizable amount of her feathers matted by her leaking blood.

"I have had it… with you! You need… to die… now!"

She ascended in a wobbly flight, and Soren gave chase. They climbed nearly three-quarters of the way to the top of a towering pine tree, and then their aerial joust was renewed.

They hacked at each other with their battle claws, creating small bursts of sparks and metal-on-metal screeches.

After ducking to circumvent a slash that would have blinded him, Soren curled his talons in and pounded her in the side of the face. She wavered and fell, losing a fair amount of altitude before she got her wings pumping.

Maddened by his tenacity, she jetted back up to him and locked one of her feet with his.

"Argh! Release me!"

"Never!" she yelled, headbutting him and knocking him dizzy.

He retaliated by flailing his free foot wildly, scoring a trio of parallel fissures in the leading edge of her left wing.

"Ahhhh! What have… you done! Sprink on you!"

She could no longer coerce it to flap, and gravity dragged them to their imminent doom.

She chose self-preservation over revenge and tossed him into the sky, using every ounce of her will to get her wing functioning again. She succeeded after three seconds, making up her mind to terminate her opponent once and for all.

Soren's dizziness faded as his gizzard pleaded for him to flap his wings, but he had only mitigated his fall before Senka locked talons with him a second time.

"Release me! Or I will… tear your… gizzard out!"

She responded by scratching his wing as he had scratched hers, and then she catapulted him towards the peach and violet sky, making sure the impressive fir tree was to the rear of him.

As he dropped, she summoned a zi field with a mystic inhalation, harmonizing with the invisible energy and charging her bones and organs with it.

Soren could not bear to move his wing, and his exhaustion devoured him internally like a void of emptiness. He prayed to Glaux to restore his physical prowess, but his prayer went unanswered.

His gizzard tied itself in knots, a confirmation that his demise was inevitable. He ended up facing his tormentor after five seconds, and what he heard next made his heart skip a beat.

A loud rushing sound hummed in his ear slits, akin to the keening of an advancing thunderstorm.

The hovering form of Senka then tucked in her wings and charged at him with impossible speed, spinning like a top.

"She's using… no… please no…" were the only words he could utter before her skull connected with his breast.

When she collided with him, his skeleton vibrated with such vigor that every bone was on the verge of shattering. He was sent reeling in the opposite direction, feeling as if he had been struck by lightning.

His back then slammed into a jagged, solid surface, and he slid down the mossy bark with a hollow moan.

He ended up in a sitting position, supported by a thick branch. His legs and tail projected out before him, and his wings hung limply at his sides. Soren simply stared blankly ahead, his eyes wide open and his voice unconditionally silenced.

He had been incapacitated by Senka's use of Danyar, her damaging tackle given ancient, unconquerable potency by the Breath of Qui. The blow had rendered him completely senseless, disconnecting him from his body and paralyzing nearly every muscle.

His heart beat at a frantic pace as his breast swelled in and out like the raging sea, the only indications that he was even alive.

The helpless king could not twitch or speak or feel, only think. And the only thoughts that clouded his jarred mind concerned his unredeemable loss in the face of Senka's threat.

Pellimore is going to perish… and so am I… and it's all my bloody fault. I tried so bloody hard… but I failed…

How could he even begin to come to terms with his and Pellimore's grisly fates? How could he even begin to contemplate the sheer disaster of their situation, and the repercussions that would result when a Guardian scouting party found them slain?

Had Soren been able to move, he would have hurled himself from the high limb and destroyed himself on the terrain far below.

He had given up all hope, and he had given up on life itself.

It was then that Senka touched down daintily on the branch, her eyes gleaming despite her pain-wracked and strained system.

"This is the ultimate end, King Soren," she spat, her tone as poisonous as flying snake venom.

Her voice echoed and sounded distant, as if she was talking to him from the other opening of a long tunnel. He could barely understand her words, but understand them he did.

"Your presence on Earth is no longer needed, save for the sustenance I will receive courtesy of your flesh. And the same goes for your queen, who, dare I say, is nearly unconscious. But before she goes under, I shall teach both of you one last lesson about my warranted brutality."

She sucked in a greedy breath and departed the branch, returning after an unquantifiable span of time to Soren. Senka attached one foot to the branch fastidiously, the other clasping Pelli's neck, who Senka was holding in the air.

So many negative emotions swirled in her frightened eyes he wanted to burst into tears, but Senka's Danyar move had denied him access to that form of expression as well.

"Soren… what has she… done to you? I… need… your help…" the female whimpered.

Senka shook her briskly and retorted, "I tested the Breath of Qui on him, with fantastic results. He is nothing but a frozen pile of feather and bone!"

Senka inhaled and added hotly, "There is but one way I can force you to realize that I am not one to be trifled with, Soren, and that is by suffocating your mate in plain sight!"

"No… please… stop this… don't ki-"

Senka's battle claws pinched inwards, and Pellimore began gasping for breath as her airway was sealed shut. She flailed around to try and break loose, but her attempts were futile.

She gurgled and choked tragically, the faraway noises unintelligible to him.

My dear Pellimore… please forgive me… he thought morosely.

He was metaphorically torn to ribbons as Senka constricted the life right out of her. He collapsed internally, retreating endlessly inside his immobilized, battered self.

Why Glaux? Is this how you meant… for us to be extinguished… from the very start of our lives? Casting us into… a chain of events so horrifying... they could only be referred to… as daymares. I don't understand…

There was no answer from Soren's higher being, leading the dethroned king to believe the implied answer was simply "yes."

Pellimore's wild jostling died down in intensity after fifteen seconds, and her eyes began to lose their gleam. Noting this, Senka squeezed even tighter.

"Soren… I… don't… want… to… die…"

Pellimore batted her free wing pitufully against Senka's face, but they registered as harmless taps to the vicious owl.

Ten seconds later, her wing drooped to her side, her head fell forwards, and her talons curled in. She sucked in four shorter, hustled breaths, and then her breast ceased all motion.

Her body sagged in Senka's claws, her murky gray eyes a telltale sign that she was no more.

"And that, fellow Tytos, is how you execute a queen."

In one demeaning act, Senka popped her claws open. The dead female fell out of Soren's line of sight like a feathered stone.

Senka then turned her attention to him and said scathingly, "Do not fret, you shall soon join her in the afterlife. Oh, I almost forgot. There is no afterlife…"

She departed once more, this time returning with his scimitar in her right foot. Its fine edge was chipped here and there, but it was otherwise intact.

"Your death will be swift, but bloody. The residual heat in her will only last so long, and I do not feel like hauling her back to my forge to cook her."

She raised the scimitar and touched the deadly point to his lower midsection.

"How ironic it is that I will be impaling you with your own weapon. But a very fine irony it happens to be!"

She gave a momentous push, and the blade chewed its way straight through him. It went so far as to bury itself in the trunk behind him, preventing him from tumbling off the branch when she decided to strip his skin off.

For some illicit reason, Soren's body exploded with unimaginable agony as the scimitar pierced him and mutilated his organs. It was as if someone had shoved three bonk coals inside him, frying his vital organs.

He wanted to scream his lungs out and thrash until he cracked his own bones, but he could not. He was subject to silent, unbelievable agony, and he welcomed his death, the only way the pain would be quelled.

How he did not lose his life then and there was an absolute mystery and a curse combined.

Soren could feel his ruined organs spewing blood into his inner cavity, and he could also feel that same blood erupting from the slit in his belly, drenching every inch of the feathers beneath it.

Senka walked even closer and suggestively ran her left foot up and down his breast, caressing him as if she was divining the quality of his meat.

"Such a developed, handsome Tyto you are. It is no surprise you caught the eye of someone like your queen, who was quite attractive in her own right. It is a shame to have to dispatch you, but I am very curious to find out if your kingly status adds a special flavor to your flesh."

She inserted her foot into the gash in his gut, gliding it around and further eviscerating the very things that sustained his life force. In a calculated jerk, she disemboweled him and slapped the bloody mass of tissue onto the limb.

"You won't be needing those anymore. And besides, they only lend a foul taste to the rest of you and render you inedible."

She then casually pushed it off with a flick of her claws, fanning away the stench with her wings ostentatiously. She then opened her blood-smeared metal talons wide and slid them up his breast, dyeing his plumage pink as she went.

Upon reaching his neck area, she curled all but one of them in and teased the serrated upper surface against his skin.

"Be grateful that your sacrifice will transfer to me the nutrients I need to continue living. The weak must be eradicated to make room for the strong. And know this: I am the strongest owl to have ever been born!"

She yanked her single claw to the left, slitting his throat with surgical precision. It was as if another fresh coal had been prodded down his airway, the unquenchable agony doubling the fortitude of the already-present miasma.

Thin streams of scarlet spurted out in time with his ailing heartbeat, and that same fluid began to leak from his beak. It gurgled as he inhaled in vain, and bubbled as the air he exhaled passed through it.

The metaphorical and literal emptiness ballooned inside Soren's body as his spirit abandoned him, and he felt himself growing colder and colder. His lungs seized up as their oxygen supply was cut off, and his tiring heart had reached its limit.

As the glacial pit swallowed him up like an icy beast, his heart fluttered feebly, and then it beat no more.

An unassailable darkness oozed over his vision, the lush world surrounding him being smothered by it as he died. He floated away into the blackness, lost in time and space, eaten by the loneliness of his and his mate's demise...

Soren was launched back into the real world with a start, rustling the mossy nest and causing his mate to stir beside him. He spun his head this way and that, the familiar tan walls of his hollow enclosing him.

He was breathing rapidly, hot tears stinging his eyes, and was unable to stifle his emotions.

The haunting daymare had just plagued him for the sixth time that moon, its antagonistic effects no less crippling than before. Trembling like a cold chick without its down, Soren wiped the fluid from the rims of his eyes and wrapped his wigs around himself.

His mate was lifted from her sleep by his movements, and she jumped to her feet upon noting his condition.

She eased closer on his left side and asked worriedly, "What is wrong, dear?"

In her gizzard she sensed that it was well past First Light, and the reason for the rude disruption of his sleep clicked in her skull.

"It was the daymare, wasn't it?"

"Y-yes. Sp-sprink o-on it…" he stuttered, using the worst curse word in the owl language.

She dismissed his sharp tongue without a care in the world. She leaned her head on his left shoulder and rubbed her wing up and down his spine tenderly, as if he was her son rather than her mate.

"There there, my love. It's alright," she cooed sweetly.

Comforted by her angelic touch, he sniffled thickly once, and then dried up his tears. He stowed his wings away at his sides and twisted his head to look at her, the obsidian orbs of his eyes shining like polished glass.

"I am at my wit's end, love. I cannot endure another episode such as that. That blasted daymare keeps recurring, and my mind continues to betray my body. I know not what caused it, nor do I know how to fix it."

The female planted a serene kiss on the border of his heart-shaped face, and a faint smile manifested on his beak.

"I do believe there is a certain owl residing her who has the proper skills to treat your condition, Soren."

"You mean… Aurora?" he asked, blinking away the very last remnants of his tears.

"Precisely, love. I think we should go and have a chat with her right away. You know how much it pains me to see you so distressed."

He returned her favor by kissing her between the eyes, the ridge of feathers in that particular spot brushing against his skin. He extricated himself from the nest and held his wings out to her, assisting her climb from the circle of twigs and moss.

"I hate to wake her at such an hour," Soren said modestly as they walked to the exit of the hollow.

"Oh Soren, she won't mind. After all, you are one of her father's closest companions."

"I suppose you're right. Well, let's get going, shall we?"

They eased their way from their secluded hollow near the crown to the middle of the Great Tree, where the infirmary was located.

Aurora seemed to enjoy sleeping there as much as she relished snoozing in her own hollow, as she was surrounded by a myriad of herbs, spices, medicines, and brews. Granted, there were a number of owls who had lost their lives there during the ongoing war with the Pure Ones, but their scrooms had traveled to Glaumora dozens of moons in the past.

They were the only two conscious denizens of the Tree, and so they walked stealthily down the passages to prevent their footfalls from echoing in the dimly-lit corridors. Once there, they stepped deftly in and peeked around.

A solitary torch burned on the left wall, its flickering orange glow illuminating the carefully placed and made-up beds on the other side of the infirmary. Them being routinely cleaned by Aurora ensured that no cobwebs or dust accumulated, giving no indication that they had sat there, unoccupied, since the aftermath of the War of the Ember.

"She must be napping in the adjoining room," Pelli whispered.

The male Tyto nodded and hopped lightly on, pausing at the natural partition that jutted out from the left wall and separated the two areas. When his mate caught up to him, he slinked around the corner in unison with Pelli.

His gaze instinctively darted to the bed at the rear, a wingspan or so away in distance. Lo and behold, a female Burrowing Owl was resting belly down on the mossy construction, her speckled wings fanned out on either side of it.

Summoning a dash of courage, Soren bounced over to her and brushed his wing across her back.

He then muttered, "Aurora, it's me, Soren. I have a problem that only you can solve."

She ignored him and rolled onto her back, letting out a muted hoot that could be classified as a snore.

The king held a wing over his beak to repress a chortle, but Pellimore laughed briefly. Aurora kicked at an imaginary foe with her talons, spoke a few jumbled words, and then goaded her eyes open.

"S-Soren… it that you? What time… is it? And why… why are you here?"

"It's a few hours after First Light. I am here because I have been suffering from a rather pesky and horrifying daymare, and you have the means to cure my… disease, if you will. Frankly, I am growing extremely irritated by it, and I ask that you do whatever is necessary to stop it."

After hearing his explanation, she stood up briskly, rubbed her eyes, and smoothed her feathers. She then yawned widely and dismounted the bed, beaming vigorously at her king despite her lingering drowsiness.

"Have no fear, Soren. There is a special brew I can concoct that should rid you of your daymare, and merit many other beneficial effects concurrently."

The relatively-short Burrowing Owl made her way over to some shelves on those skinny, bare legs of hers, reading the ingredient names scrawled upon the rows of voleskin pouches.

While she searched for the proper ingredients, the king and queen crouched down side by side, their belly feathers meeting the floor.

The queen then asked, "How has your father been lately?"

Without turning around or pausing in her work, Aurora replied, "Splendid, Pelli. His age has somehow increased his critical thinking and insight skills, as amusing as that sounds. But if it allows him to better instruct his students in the Tracking Chaw, then so be it."

Soren commented, "Hmm, interesting. I haven't noticed a marked change in his personality."

He locked eyes with his lifelong partner and continued amorously, "Perhaps that is because I spend so much time next to you, my love."

She donned a touching smile and nuzzled her cheek against his.

"A valid and appreciable explanation as any, my king," Aurora put in.

She withdrew a pouch from the highest shelf with her beak, set it beside her, and then resumed the search for the others. It was but a minute before she plucked two more pouches from their resting places, sighing as she rotated a quarter of the way around.

She toted the flimsy bags over to a pair of ember bowls, the upper one inverted and stacked upon the lower one. She heaved the makeshift lid off with decent effort, revealing a small pool of water.

Their curiosities piqued, they got up and marched closer to observe, never having witnessed Aurora brew anything thus far in her quaint little larder.

She opened the lid of one container, dug inside to extract a toothy leaf, and submerged it in the bowl. She reclosed the pouch and repeated the process two more times, adding one tiny black seed and another, spikier leaf.

"What, pray tell, will I be consuming?" Soren questioned innocuously.

"A chamomile, valerian, and poppy tea. It will relax you, ease your tension, quiet your disturbed thoughts, and send you into a blissful sleep. It was originally used for wounded Guardians who were not going to… survive, but you will only be drinking a small dose."

"Ah. Thank you for enlightening me."

"Anytime, Soren."

Aurora left the bowl to deal with the pouches, but Pelli stepped forwards.

"Allow me to put them up, Aurora."

"Oh. Go right ahead. Thank you, my queen."

The Tyto nodded her assent and returned the bags to the shelves, and then rooted herself adjacent to the beholder of her heart. Aurora trudged over to a third ember bowl and removed the lid, exposing a tiny pile of rusty red embers that bathed the room with light and heat.

"Blast it, they're almost no good. Oh well, one should provide enough heat to warm the water so that I can steep the ingredients…"

She snatched a set of tongs from the wall and selected the hottest ember, the monarchs stepping back as she ferried it over to the unorthodox cauldron. She slipped the ember into a scorched pit beneath the cauldron, an ingenious feature the owls had not been able to see previously.

The Burrowing Owl let the tongs hit the substrate with a thunk and sealed the ember bowl shut.

When she was done, she faced her superiors and said, "And now, all we have to do… is wait."

The three owls stood there for several minutes, their eyes riveted to the soon-to-be tea.

There were no changes for some time, and then faint tendrils of steam appeared and danced upon the water's surface. Aurora let the wisps conduct their uncoordinated ballet for precisely a minute.

Performing one final temperature check by holding her face over it, she stated, "There! The water is now medicated and ready to drink."

After removing the barely-warm ember and stashing it with its brethren, she skipped over to the corner of the secondary room and nabbed a nut cup. She dipped the cup in the substance-laden water, and then handed t to Soren.

"I have to thank you for this, Aurora."

"It is my pleasure and my duty, Soren. Think nothing of it."

He raised the cup to his beak and poured the liquid in, but immediately scowled and fluffed up his feathers.

"Good Glaux… Aurora… that's bitter! Is a fair warning… too much to ask for?" he retorted, spluttering.

The two females gazed at each other and chuckled heartily.

"I'm sorry, Soren, but I was craving to see your reaction!"

He snorted and squinted accusingly, darting his gaze from one female to the other.

"Here, Soren, I need your nut cup. One sip isn't sufficient for an owl your size."

He ruefully thrust his foot out, and she took it with a teasing manner. She refilled the cup, and he sucked down the contents while stifling a gag.

Aurora was wearing a victorious smile, but it shrank as she said in a serious tone, "I suggest you head on over to one of the beds and lay down, Soren. Your descent into unconsciousness will be delayed if you are moving about or upright."

"Of course, Aurora."

He exited the larder and strode over to the nearest moss-padded rectangle of twigs, easing himself onto it belly up and exhaling a heavy sigh. He interlaced his wings over his breast like a blanket, eyeing the females as they bounded over to him.

"Do both of you promise not to pull any practical jokes on me while I am sleeping?"

"We promise," they responded cheerfully in unison.

The queen hunched over and kissed her king between his eyes.

"I'll see you again at First Black, dear. I want you to report to me what you dreamed about."

"And I will, my love. Oh my, I am already feeling… drowsy."

Soren squirmed and assumed a more comfortable pose, yawning and smacking his beak. His eyelids scooted down of their own accord, his expression juicily quiescent.

"I'm going to miss you… my beautiful Pelli. As I do every day… when I fall into… my slumber."

"I shall miss you too, but you won't be out long."

His eyelids pinched together further, and he murmured, "I love you… Pelli."

"I love you too, Soren."

The sound of her voice speaking his name hung in his ear slits as he lost consciousness, and then he heard nothing more. He sunk into the impenetrable blackness, but unlike in his daymare, it was a benign, protective cloak.

After the substances in his bloodstream were broken down, his mind languidly resumed functioning and receiving stimuli from the outside world. That being said, Soren was buoyed out of the oily sea by a scrumptious scent, an ambrosial fragrance dominated by milkberry sweetness.

It was so tempting and unique; it could only have originated from one owl: Pellimore.

Breathing in her odor tickled his gizzard, and he ordered his eyes to open so that he may behold her. True to form, his mate was napping in very close proximity to him, her nape and back presented to him.

He kissed her nape plumage and mumbled, "Are you awake, my love? First Black has already come to pass."

Without hesitation, she twisted herself backwards to face him, revealing that she had awoken before he.

"I am indeed awake, Soren. Do you remember the report I asked you to give me?"

"Report? What are you… ah yes, I remember."

"Let's hear it, then."

"I dreamed… elated dreams, Pelli. My daymare has been abolished."

She smiled and replied, "I am so glad to hear that."

She stretched her neck and kissed him passionately on the beak.

"As am I, love. Now I am free to dream about the most special owl in my life, which just so happens to be you."

They kissed again, flooding their senses with shared felicity.

When it ended, the male sighed and said, "You will never understand how much I love you."

The female answered in kind, "Nor will you understand how much I adore you."

"I wouldn't prefer it any other way, to be honest."

With that, Pelli clambered from the nest and cast her eyes upon her reclined mate.

"Come, my dear. We wouldn't want to miss tweener and the chance to talk with our children."

He simply donned a dark smile, refusing to comply.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He unfurled his wings and fused them together behind her. With a stern-yet-gentle pull, he retracted them and hauled her in his direction. She tripped and fell forwards, collapsing suggestively on top of him.

"Tweener can wait, my love. There are other personal matters I am eager to attend to first…"

He compressed their bodies together tightly, massaging her spine and kissing her ardently.

It was merely another romantic display of the unbreakable bond that linked them, and they feasted on each other without a hint of shame. It was a common pastime of theirs, a recurrent exhibition of the love a jovial king was determined to profess to his queen.

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