The Flight of the Valkyries

[Clutus]

It is a strange, almost surreal, feeling, walking through a familiar place for last time.  The previously ignored details become nearly overwhelming, and every subtlety seems to take on a life of its own.  Clutus tried desperately to ignore these overwhelming details and living subtleties as he tottered down the dim corridors of Kotir.  Second thoughts and doubts ran rampant through the barn owl's mind.  He had never looked at himself as a coward, yet what he was doing that night had every look of a retreat.  It was not running away, he told himself for the hundredth time that night, he had been running away for seasons.  He was finally turning around, and going back to where he belonged. 

Before he could go back to where he belonged though, he had to go back, or rather away from, or would it just be forward.  Clutus gave up trying to make the analogy work, and tapped hesitantly on Rousseau's door.  It was not that he wanted to speak to or see the rat captain, but there were simply some tasks that birds were not anatomically suited for.  For example, playing musical instruments, although birds had little use for such things due to their incredible vocal abilities.  Music was not his reason for visiting Rousseau at such an hour though.  It was a much more pressing need.

Clutus steeled himself for the encounter as the door opened the slightest crack, a small voice greeted him.  ?What do you want, Clutty??

?I realize we are not on the best of terms at the moment, and that it is quite late.  How-?  Clutus stopped himself in mid-word as he identified the speaker.  ?Mirdros, is that you??

The kit hushed the owl impudently, reminding him.  ?Be very quiet, you'll wake up Rosy.?

?Quite right.?  Clutus agreed.  ?Listen here, Mirdros.  I am in need of some... paws.  Would you be a good little rat, and lend me some assistance??

Mirdros seemed to consider the proposition for a moment, and then asked.  ?Are you gonna eat my paws??

?Don't be ridiculous, that paws are worst part to eat.?  Clutus responded instantly.

?Okay, I'll help.?  The kit agreed trustingly.

After edging silently out of the cracked door, the kit shut it behind him; and followed Clutus down the hallway.  It was largely silent walk back to the owl's chamber, and that was perfectly acceptable to the owl.  He was not in the mood for words, least of all with a ground-dweller.  When they arrived back in his room, Clutus shut the door behind them.  It was not a moment late, as Mirdros released a startled squeak when he saw the other owl standing on the windowsill.

?Clutty!  It's the owl that wants to eat me!?

?So we meet again, my little morsel.?  Licium greeted back.

?Both of you be silent!?  Clutus interrupted.  ?Mirdros, you will not be harmed.  I only need you to tie a couple knots for me.?

?Unless of course you cannot tie a knot, then we will just eat you.?  Licium commented helpfully.

?Course I know how to tie knots.  What do you think I am, stupid??  Mirdros said with a roll of his eyes.

?Perfect!?  Clutus exclaimed, pushing a wingspan length of rope to the kit.  ?Now, just tie the two ends together.?

Clutus watched quietly as the kit did as he was told.  It was more than a little surprising that the kit was being to receptive to his commands.  The owl did not know if it was Licium's threat or his sense of urgency, but the kit seemed to finally be learning some manners.  Perhaps there was some hope for the future generation after all.

?There.?  The kit said as he handed the looped piece of rope back to the owl.  ?All you got to do is make a little rabbit, stick with a spear, throw it in the pot, make a little rat, and then put the rabbit into the rat.  See??

?Ah, what a delightful little reminder of how to tie a knot, albeit a rather disturbing one.?  Clutus commented, before taking the rope in his beak.

Licium looked up from grooming herself long enough to say.  ?Quite clever actually, for a ground-dweller.?

Going to the corner of the room, Clutus took the end of the rope coiled there and stretched it out across the floor.  After some mild difficulty, he ran the loose rope through the loop Mirdros had already formed.  Such tasks were not easy for the bird, and he felt the stares of Licium and Mirdros piercing his form.  There were some things more important than dignity though.  It had taken the better part of the week for Clutus to learn that, but now he had taken the lesson to heart.

?Licium,? Clutus turned to the other owl.  ?You know what must be done.?

She bowed her farewell, and after grabbing one end of the coiled rope in her talons, she flew from the window and into darkness.  The rope began uncoiling hurriedly, nearly as quickly as Clutus's nerves. 

Grabbing the other end of the rope, he pushed it towards the little water rat.  ?Now then, Mirdros.  I need you to do your rabbit killing knot again, and tie this rope to the door knob.?

The kit, who suddenly seemed quite subdued and confused, went about following the owl's instructions.  After he had finished, he turned to Clutus with a pair of troubled eyes.

?Are you going away??  The kit asked point-blankly.

Clutus watched the rope continue to unravel out the window, and answered the kit without turning.  ?Yes, yes I am.  This is not where I belong, this castle, this mission.  I never did belong here.?

?Oh.?  Mirdros kicked his paws absently as he spoke.  ?Wont Rosy be mad??

?I doubt it will bother her overly much, she has more pressing matters to attend to.  Clutus told the kit, though inwardly he wondered how Rousseau would react to his disappearance.

The uncoiling of the rope slowed, but continued to be pulled steadily until there was no more slack on the line.  Clutus looked out the window at the rope disappearing into the night.  The irony of his position was not lost upon the owl.  Here he was trying to return to his kind, but to do so he had to move farther away from his calling than he ever had to before.  Everything about his plan stunk of ground-dweller, from the rope to the knots to the very concept of it.  Clutus would have been ashamed for having thought of it himself, if not for ingenuous use of the door-knob it involved.

Shaking these thoughts from his mind, he turned to Mirdros.  ?I have one last request of you, small one.  When this rope goes slack, you need to go fetch Rousseau, and have her cut it.  Is that clear??

The kit nodded his little head silently but dutifully.

Clutus bowed farewell to the little creature, and before turning away said.  ?My thanks for all your assistance.  If not for a few personality flaws due to your upbringing, I imagine you might have made a good owl.?

?Okay.?  The kit said noncommittally.

Without another word, Clutus turned his back on Kotir and its inhabitants, and took his first step on his journey home.  After which he took a couple more, considerably less dramatic steps.  He stood on the windowsill, and wrapped the loop of rope around himself.  He tested his weight on the rope, and pushed himself out into the nothingness.

At first, the plan worked perfectly.  The loop that supported him slid down the line smoothly, and Clutus almost felt as though he were flying again.  It did not take long though, for the friction of the rope to slow and then stop him altogether.  He sat suspended in darkness, his only security a suddenly very thin rope around his torso and between his legs.  The first glow of the morning was beginning to show on the horizon, and no matter the comfort that the sun would lend, Clutus knew that far less desirable things would come to follow the dawn.  Swinging himself on the line, the owl managed to propel himself forward, albeit at a slow pace.  Clutus did not know if it was the noises of exertion he made, the sound of the slipping rope, or else the first rays of early morning.  Whichever it was, as he neared the outer wall, the yell of a sentry sounded from below. 

As Clutus attempted to hurry his progress, he received extra motivation in the form of an arrow just a wing's length ahead of him.  He envied the arrow for its swift, graceful shape, and easy flight.  Up until the point that it turned downward, and fell just as swiftly back to earth.  Panic rose in the bird's throat in the form of an adrenaline surge, of a kind he had not felt for many seasons.  Clearing the wall gave little comfort, as he watched water rats rush onto the ramparts.  From their new vantage point, the ground-dwellers would have an easy shot at the bird's tailfeathers.  Looking down the line, Clutus could see the lone oak tree that his lifeline was wrapped around.  In its branches sat Licium, who would be hanging onto the line to it keep from slipping.  The tree could have just as well been a league away though, as it sat far out of reach.  Pivoting his head around, Clutus caught sight of the archers on the wall not twenty wingspans away.  They loosed their arrows.  Entrusting his life to Vulpez, Clutus let himself slip from the loop, and opened his wings wide.

The exhilaration of flight was unmatched, and after years without it, the owl was reunited with its gratifying embrace.  The wing whistled through his feathers like an old friend saying hello.  Clutus released a triumphant screech that rent the morning sky, but the moment was spoiled by the quickly approaching earth.  Twin cracks heralded his landing, as Clutus collapsed on the frost covered grass.  Thanking Vulpez for his survival, Clutus made as to stand before collapsing a second time.  A small, calm voice in his head informed Clutus that both of his legs were shattered.  He dragged himself through the waist-high grass, until a familiar voice stopped him.  He looked upwards through his red hazed vision, to see the soft features of a beautiful female owl.

?Mirum.?  Clutus said reverently.

?It is I, Licium.  Clutus, can you still walk?  We must move now!?  The downy feathered figure urged.

Clutus was oblivious of the warning, as he tried to explain.  ?My most humble apologies Mirum.  I was trying to come back to you.  It should not of taken so long, but I was finally returning.?

?Clutus, the ground-dwellers are coming.  You must move!?

?Do you remember our first spring together, Mirum?  When our nest fell from the tree?  It was my fault, Mirum.  I didn't reenforce the binding enough.  It was my fault, I should never of blamed you.  I'm sorry for blaming you, Dearest.?  Clutus's voice turned hoarse, as numbness slowly spread from his legs upwards.

?My apologies, Scourge.  I must fly.?  The femme said before taking flight, and easily outpacing the arrows that pursued her.

Clutus studied the grass directly in front of his face, as heavy pawsteps approached.  It is a strange, almost surreal, feeling, seeing a familiar place for last time.  The previously ignored details become nearly overwhelming, and every subtlety seems to take on a life of its own.  The world danced for Clutus, as the red haze in his vision turned to darkness.  His last thought was of remembrance, of only moments before when he had done the impossible.  He, Clutus, Scourge of the Sky, Great Philosopher of Mossflower, Jewel of the Forest, Exposer of Secrets, and Master of the Mind had flown once again.