The Path Not Chosen

[Clutus]

Clutus had lived his entire life amidst death.  He remembered his first kill as a fledgling.  It had been a magical moment.  He had glided silently towards the mouse and snatched the it up without warning.  It had been a good, honorable kill, and tasted better than anything he had eaten since.  Ground-dwellers though, killed without reason or honor.  They did not kill for food or survival; instead, they killed for abstract, invented ideas, such as religion, greed, or hate.  Owls usually targeted the small and weak.  While ground-dwellers destroyed themselves by killing the strongest, and saving the weak and sick until last.  Clutus felt his assessment was proven, as he looked scornfully down at Captain Blacktip's comatose sibling.  The creature was more skin and bone than meat, and would be worthless under duress.  Despite this, Blacktip had deemed it reasonable to risk his own life, and that of Rousseau's, to save this barely living sack of bones. 

Disregarding the comatose mink, Clutus approached the makeshift command post of Kotir.  It was little more than a few tables pushed together in the main hall, covered in blueprints and maps and surrounded by every beast who was anyone in the castle.  Clutus found it rather insulting that he had not been invited.

?Have you seen Captain Blacktip??  Clutus asked a distraught looking weasel who was standing by the wayside of the activity.

The weasel nodded, and pointed towards the group of tables.  ?Aye, he's... Well he was somewhere in that cluster.?

Clutus navigated his way through the crowd of nervous officers, before catching sight of Blacktip.  The mink was escorting the tiny water rat hostage out of the bustle  as Clutus caught him.

?Blacktip, I have words for you.?  Clutus called menacingly from behind.

The mink turned slowly, his tired eyes show little surprise at the owl.  ?Really?  That's nice.  Too bad I don't want to hear them.?

?I wish to discuss your actions of earlier tonight.  Not only did you make a disaster out of the castle's defense, but you lost a good deal of beasts while you doing it.?

Blacktip rubbed his eyes despairingly.  ?You would think that I was the one in charge around here.  May I remind you that Lord Tirian and Lady Kovari were also outside ordering the soldiers about?  Now go away I don't have time for this.?

?You will make time.  I will not be ignored at a time like this!?  Clutus persisted, as he straightened himself to his full stature.

?No, I won't.  Not for you, or anyone else I don't like.?  Blacktip punctuated his outburst with a stomp of his footpaw.  ?Now go make yourself useful and take this little monster somewhere out of harms way.  I dare say there are a good many here who wouldn't mind killing him simply to get back at the rats for those they lost.?

He shoved Mirdros towards Clutus.  The little water rat looked scared and tired, and when he saw Clutus, he took a nervous step backwards.

?If you eat him, I'll kill you.?  Blacktip said, before walking back to the command post without another word.

The owl and water rat were left alone.  They stared at each unhappily at each other for a moment, before Mirdros spoke up.  ?Where's Rallytandy?  I liked her more than you.?

Clutus was not the sort to hold to back the truth.  ?Beleive me, the feeling is mutual.  Unfortunately, your friends killed the rabbit.  How does that make you feel??

Mirdros said nothing.  He only sniffed slightly, and wiped his nose in Clutus's feathers.  Despite being slightly disgusted, the owl was glad to have silenced to the young one at last.  He took the rat under his wing, and began walking him towards the stairs that led to the sleeping quarters.

* * * 

His temporary sleeping quarters were shrouded in darkness when they arrived.  Mirdros finally spoke again as they entered the small, mostly empty room.  ?Why you bring me here?  Are you going to eat me up??

?No, I am not going to eat you.  You are here to take a nap.?  Clutus said, gesturing to the loose pile of straw that had served as his nest for the duration of his visit.

?I'm not sleepy!?  Mirdros assured his care-taker.

?Well, that is a shame.  Now I suppose I will just have to eat you.?

Mirdros stuck his tongue out at Clutus, before jumping into the nest.  ?You're a terrible sitter.  Rosy was better than you, even though she caught me.?

Clutus tongue caught in his throat at the mention of Rousseau, he managed.  ?She is dead too.  Was horrible waste of potential, killing that one.  She was able to transform blank pieces of canvas into entire worlds, and your tribe killed her without a second thought.  In one moment, all her talent was washed away with blood.  That is the trouble with your kind, you never consider the consequences of your actions.  Your completely impulsive, barely even-?

Clutus cut himself off as he heard the kit's soft snoring.  Satisfied, he walk to the room's single window, and looked out over Mossflower's bleak landscape.  The rain and clouds had given way to pale starlight.  The moon had long since given up hope for that Vulpez forsaken night, and retreated to its sanctuary below the horizon.  Neither wind nor breeze stirred the atmosphere, leaving the scent of death hanging limply in the air.  Clutus had smelled the scent countless times before, but never before had it struck him so powerfully.  It was a tangy, sweet smell.  Sharp and overwhelming if one allowed themselves to become lost in it.  Clutus felt tingles running the length of his body, from his tail feathers all the way to his salivating beak.  The owl yearned to feast on the wasting flesh that littered the parade grounds below, but something stronger than hunger churned his stomach.  It was fear, or perhaps it was anger.  It was his fear for his own life, and his anger at Vulpez for allowing this situation to develop.  It had only been a few days earlier, that the Master of the Afterlife had sent eight creatures to do his bidding.  Now, only four remained, and amongst his fellow survivors, Clutus was alone.  Everything he touched seemed to die.  First, the cook had been lost, and with him the taste of his excellent cuisine.  Then the beaver had perished, and so died the only creature who had known of Clutus in the days before Kotir.  Shortly thereafter, the water rats had attacked, killing the delightful little rabbit who had fetched him snacks.  Worst of all though, the intruders had killed Rousseau, thus ending Clutus's only chance at immortality.  The painting he had gazed upon in three days' time would never exist.  The legacy that had once been within his talons, would be lost to him.  He would die and be forgotten, like any other mortal; and if events continued on their current trend, then he would not need to wait long to be forgotten. 

Raising his flat face towards the sky, Clutus took a long drought of the blood-tainted air.  He savored the smell, before releasing his lungs with a long, mournful cry.  He was moving to close the window-shutters when he heard an echo.  Which struck the owl as odd, as there were no cliff faces nearby, and the window was far above the walls and forest.  It took Clutus a moment to realize what he had heard, was not an echo but a reply.  It had been an owl's reply.

Clutus hopped onto the windowsill, and leaned out of the window precariously.  Even the owl's eyes were useless in the dark, moonless skies; and no matter how sensitive, no ear could sense the beating of an owl's silent wings.  The stranger was out here somewhere though, there was no doubt.  He screeched a polite greeting, and waited a moment for the response.  With a long, wailing cry, the intruding owl returned the courtesy, and asked for permission to approach.  Clutus extended an invitation to hunter, and backed away from the window.  Clutus's heart beat rapidly, as if he himself were flying through the cold winter air.  For a moment, he forgot his troubles, as he readied himself for his first meeting with another owl for longer then he cared to remember. 

The stranger burst into the room with gale of feathers and avian curses.  The sight of another barn owl startled Clutus more than he had expected it to.  His was certainly a majestic species.  Sleek cream, speckled feathers covered the newcomer's underbelly, while the back of its wings and body were dark brown.  Long legs strode cautiously around the room, as its beautifully curved talons dug into the wooden floors.  With a blink, Clutus realized that the intruder was a female.  She was a young, neatly groomed individual.  Clutus cleared his throat, and sent the owl leaping back onto the windowsill.  Clutus stepped out of the shadows, showing himself in pale starlight.

Upon seeing him, her black, yet bright eyes softened slightly, and she greeted him with a friendly head bob.  ?Good evening, Sir.  I presume you are the one with the glorious voice, declaring your sorrow on the chorus.?

Clutus bobbed his head in return, and shamelessly replied.  ?Indeed, that wondrous call belonged to me.  Your response was so heavenly that I mistook as my echo, upon first hearing it.?

She hissed with amusement.  Dismounting the sill and advancing on Clutus, she spread his wings wide.  It was a gesture and good faith and friendship, and no matter how humiliating it was for Clutus to do so, he returned the gesture.  With his burnt breast feathers and pinioned wings in full sight, he bowed his head with embarrassment.

The female crossed her long legs, excusing Clutus of his appearance.  ?You look as if you have flown through Hellgates, pardon my honesty.?

Clutus crossed his legs, pardoning her for her honesty.  ?You may be surprised how close to the truth you have come.?  He stretched out his neck, as he ventured.  ?May I be so forward as to ask the name of one so bold as to visit Kotir, only at the sound of her grieving brethren's voice??

?Licium is my name.  What may I call you, one who makes his nest in the home of ground-dwellers??  She asked, cocking her head curiously.

Expanding his burnt chest without shame, he introduced himself.  ?I am Clutus, though the ground-dwellers have many other titles for me.  The Great Philosphoher, The Jewel of Mossflower, The Exposer of Secrets-?

?The Scourge of the Sky??  Licium asked curiously, bowing her head in apology for her interruption.

The question caught Clutus off-guard, and after blundering for a moment, he answered.  ?Indeed, I was once called by that title.?

?So tell me, how did one such as you come to this place, scared and crippled in the mountain of the wolves??  Licium now ventured, with a stretch of her neck.

Clutus shuffled sideways, as he said.  ?Many things have befallen me since my days in the air, and I would hardly wish to bore you with such tales.?

The young female shuffled with him, and persisted.  ?Perhaps, but at least tell me how you came to lose your flight??

Clutus bowed his head deeply as he answered.  ?I was taken by the river-dwellers.?

?You were made as prey??  Licium exclaimed as she stepped back from Clutus, as if he hosted some sickness.

?Hardly, I made a foolish mistake, but I never allowed myself to be made as prey.?

Licium seemed unconvinced, but admitted with a cross of her legs.  ?No matter your past, it seems you have caught the updraft.  Why, even now you have come to hunt the ground-dwellers in their home.  Such daring!?

Mirdros choose that moment to unburrow himself from Clutus's nest, and shout at the two conversing birds.  ?Both of you shuttup!  Trying to sleep!?

Licium leapt back to the windowsill, waving her heart-shaped face back-and-forth as she honed in on the little rat's location.

She urgently hissed at Clutus.  ?A ground-dweller is among us!?

?Indeed.?  The older owl confirmed.  ?The little one poses no danger to us though, you may stand down.?

?A kit!? Licium cried happily, and began making for Mirdros in a slow weaving pattern. ?Come, let us take the young one.?

Clutus stepped into her path, halting the prowling owl.  ?The ground-dweller is not to eat.  He must be protected.?

Licium tried to circumvent Clutus, but he continued to sidestep into her path.  ?You speak nonsense.  The hunt is on, let us eat our fill!?

?We cannot eat this water rat.  He is a hostage, and must be kept alive for now.?  Clutus tried to explain.

The younger owl backed away from Clutus, climbing back onto the windowsill once again.  ?What are these strange ground-dweller words you use?  You look, sound, and smell like an owl; but you speak like prey.  What are you??

Clutus's feathers stood on end as he advanced on Licium.  ?How dare you speak to me in such a fashion!  I am more of an owl than you could hope to be, no matter how many kits you kill.?

?If you were an owl, then you would have hunted with me.?  Licium hissed, her beak clicking accusingly.

?If you were smart, then you would leave now, broodling.?

?Such shame your mate must feel for you, Earth-Crawler.?  Licium screeched, before leaping from the windowsill, and disappearing into the pre-dawn glow.

?She feels no shame for the dead.?  Clutus said softly, as he watched her departing figure.  He yearned to fly after her, to eat Mirdros, to return to his mate and brood, and to do all things owlish.  Licium was right though, he was an Earth-Crawler.  Not by choice, but it made little difference.  Clutus was, and always would be a captive of the ground.  Fate had chosen him to walk among the ground-dwellers, and Vulpez had chosen him be the savior of the ground-dwellers.  His path had been laid out under his talons, and he could only follow it now.