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How to use owls when reclaiming a lost soul

A short story about a talking owl

By Tristan PalmerPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
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How to use owls when reclaiming a lost soul
Photo by pure julia on Unsplash

I didn't see the owl before I heard it's call of,

"Who?" in the dark.

Stopping where I was I reached back to grip the hilt of the sword on my back. Then I wondered why exactly I did that. Reflex, if nothing else.

It was almost pitch black as I walked, the moon hiding in it's new moon form high above the sky. The clouds were scarce, but the stars danced and shone as I walked over the snow covered ground.

The owl in question was sitting in the hay loft of a barn, which I could barely make out.

I squinted, however, and a white owl seemed to shine through the dark, making itself know. Was that what I had been sent out here to find? Hundreds of miles away from Ireland, I was trudging through snow covered forests of Siberia, looking for an owl. I could have been hunting monsters, but alas, I was not.

Standing still though, I looked at the owl as best I could. It had small, beady orange eyes and a sharp little beak. It ruffled it's wings some, hoping around inside the barns top floor. The barn itself wasn't in very good shape, but the owl didn't seem to mind.

I took a step forward then, and the owl turned it's head all the way around, looking at me with those orange eyes. They seemed to look right through me, maybe at the ground behind me. My black coat blew in a gust of wind that came through, and I took another step forward.

"Whooo?" said the owl again.

I stopped, remembering something my friend Donahue had told me a while back.

"Owl's are good luck charms, or bad omens. No in between to them really. It's all about how you approach them. Course if you stand there talking to a non-magical owl, then folks'll just think you crazy."

Keeping his advice to mind I took yet another step forward. This elected another,

"Whooo!" from the owl, a bit more instigating this time.

So I stopped, and held up my hands. Not above my head or anything to ridiculous, but out to my sides.

"Are you magic?" I asked the aviary animal.

That sounded more than foolish, talking to an owl. But I looked at where it was in the dark, and then heard a low, but audible,

"Yes," come from where the owl stood.

My mouth almost fell into the snow covered ground, but I clicked my teeth together instead.

"And you talk, that's wonderful," I lowered my hands down to my sides, "then if that's the case, where can I find Svitlana Deminiski. She's a woman who lives in Russia, but I told you are the only thing here that knows where she is."

I was still talking to an owl, it just didn't seem logical. But with magic, monsters and everything else I'd seen the last six years, I wasn't counting anything out.

The owl moved it's head to nip at it's body, then turned it's whole body around, cocking it's head off to the side.

"Russian woman?" it spoke again.

Again I didn't believe it, at least not all the way.

"Yes," I nodded, assuming the owl had better eyesight than I did, "I was told she can unlock a special door that I have found in the wood, " I turned to point behind me, "and I need to find her. I'm on a quest from Ireland."

"A quest?" the owl spoke with a hint of enthusiasm now.

"Yes," I nodded again, risking to take a step forward.

The owl stayed where it was, and didn't hoot at me again. Maybe it was starting to trust me.

"I know of your woman," the owl said.

It's mouth didn't move, but I heard the words as clear as day. I'd never had an animal talk to me that wasn't my cat, and her meows didn't even come close to this experience.

"You know where to find her?" I asked.

I started walking forward now, hoping the wind would die down a little. I reached back to pull up my coat hood, sheltering my cold face.

"I do," the owl spoke, "but now will you think, that you have found her already?"

That was when I paused, looking at the barn entrance. Already found the woman? I was a man, and the only other thing here was...

I lightbulb went out in my mind then, and I looked up at the owl. But as I did I heard the flutter of wings, and it was gone.

I spun around, and saw, in the dark and nearby trees, the flapping of white wings. I started to follow the owl, and heard a,

"Whooo!" of a call. It was close.

I picked up my feet, following the motions in the air. I watched the owl settle on a nearby tree branch, it's head seeming to never have looked away from me.

"Are you the woman?" I called out, coming to messy stop of booted feet.

The owl took flight again at my question, and I made up my mind that I was right. I followed back into the woods where I had just come from, watching the owl fly skillfully through the branches.

"Don't make me chase you, Svitlana!" I called out, "I need the tonic that you posses!"

The animal heard me, but didn't immediately head my warning. In reality I had no why to hunt down or disable the animal, because I had to guns. I could have hurled my sword, but that would surely kill the animal out right. If it was a shapeshifter, like I was thinking, I needed it to change into it's human form. This was another entry for my journal, I was certain.

The owl began to stop, and settled on another tree branch, this one lower to the ground. Another one of me could have stood on my shoulders and touched the owl, if I so desired. I was only one man, however, and this owl could fucking fly.

I came to another pounding stop, huffing. My side hurt, and I cursed myself for smoking so much.

"Stop!" I huffed it out, my breath fogging the chilly air, "I mean you no harm!"

I held up my hands, then puffed out,

"The tonic you posses, shapeshifter, is the only one that will allow me access to a different plane of existence. Please, that is all that I ask!" I groaned the last word out.

As I started to catch my breath the owl shuffled it's wings. It gazed at me, then I watched it hop along the branch, turning it's head one way, then the other.

"What plane?" the animal asked.

I looked up from my boots, at the owl.

"Only the realm of the dead," I said, "I understand there are many ways to access this place, but the tonic you have will allow me to travel to Regasanka, a city in the underworld where I need to speak to someone."

The owl made a quiet,

"Who?" and then hoped on the branch again.

"You seek Death," said the owl.

I looked at it, my face cold.

"You seek Death," the owl repeated, "you seek a favor. Sent here by another. But will you succeed, or will Death simply add you to his collection?"

"I will not fail," I shook my head, standing up straight, "I will find Death, and I will ask him to give back what is rightfully mine."

"A lover?" asked the owl without hesitation.

"Yes!" I shouted then, stepping forward, "now give me what I want!"

I reached back to draw my sword, and pointed it at the animal. It opened it's beak to hiss at me, then leapt from the branch, spreading it's wings.

It came for me but I stepped to the side and swung my blade one handed. I felt the owl strike my sword, but at the same time the only thing that I passed through was air.

The animal flew away, unharmed, and landed on another branch. I stepped to the side again, twirling my sword, watching it. My boot passed over a spill of blood in the snow, and drops of crimson decorated the white ground.

The owl hissed at me again, but with a flap of it's wings it rose into the air, then vanished.

I blinked. Then, I blinked again. I let out a hard breath, but didn't let my anger get the better of me. There was, sitting where the owl had been, a little glass bottle with a cork in it's top.

Letting out an irritated huff, I wiped my sword on my pants leg, then angled it up and back into my sheath with a snug slide. I walked over the snow, it was well past my ankles, and came to stand in front of the tree branch. I thought for a second the bottle was an illusion.

As I reached out, however, I took the bottle in my hand, and felt the glass on my cold bare fingers. It was real alright. I looked the bottle over, it was a deep green color from it's look, and had a black, rotting cork as it's stopper.

I gripped the bottle in my hand, then ran a thumb over the cork. Turning around I stood in the small clearing I had wound up in, and looked at the bottle again.

"Ok," I whispered to the bottle.

I uncorked the bottle, casting the top away into the snow. The cork itself fizzled away into black smoke, and from the open bottle, a quiet scream escaped into the night. It was a potion of travel alright, but one that came at a cost. Traveling to Regesanka would grant me access to the Underworld, but if the conditions I was offered while there were not met, then I was staying. In other words, I die and come back, or I die and stay dead.

With a shake of my head I muttered,

"Okay Shay. I'm coming baby," before tipping the bottle to my lips.

Anyone else standing around would have seen my drink the liquid, which tasted more foul than anything I had ever drank, and a swirl of black escaped the bottom of the bottle.

The smoke wrapped around me like ice cold fingers, and then my vision went black. Physically, I vanished with the smoke, the bottle in my hand the only thing to hit the snowy ground.

No one in the world knew I had just traveled to a separate plane of existence, but sitting nearby on a tree branch, was a white owl. It cocked it's head, looking at where I had been standing, then let out a soft whisper of,

"Good luck, young fool."

fantasy
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About the Creator

Tristan Palmer

Hi all. All I am is a humble writer who works a full time job, just to afford to live so I can have time to write. I love science fiction with a passion, but all works and walks of writing are important to me.

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