Forgotten

Most cannot recall these tales anymore. They used to be passed down from generation to generation. However, as technological advances took hold, these stories are long forgotten. Deemed fantasy, tossed away as witchcraft and wizardry. Placed alongside stories created about schools for those gifted in such a craft, or chalked up as the active imagination of young children.

But I know the truth.

I remember the tales.

I recall the legends.

Long ago, before incandescent light bulbs lit up this world, animagi protected their homes from any who deemed themselves an enemy of the land. Many would call them sorcerers, and they were not far from the truth. With the ability to not only commune with the wildlife around, but to also shift into one of their choosing, they were powerful guardians. Not many dared to turn against one, but even then, some saw it as a challenge.

However, there was one that no one ever ventures to fight. Many names were given to this animagus, and all knew his animal of choice. It was a simple blue-eyed barn owl. If at first glance, you believe the others to be cowardly, you would soon be mistaken. If at first you refuse to heed the warnings of those around you, and you believe yourself strong enough to take down this seemingly puny animagus, then you'd soon find yourself staring at the sky, wondering why you were so, so sore and filled with agonizing pain.

The village that was protected by this mage would bring out food as a gift, leaving it at the edge of the forest every night. By the next morning, all that was left was a singular tawny feather, carefully placed and never touched by the wind. The villagers would take it, and add it to the large owl they were constructing in the middle of the town square. Peace was over the land, and crime was at an all-time low.

But, as we all know, peace cannot exist without chaos.

Suddenly, villages were being attacked, and animagi were being found dead across the world. It seemed like there was no hope, and refugees from the surrounding towns and villages were flocking to Barn Owl's territory. Many prayed that he would be enough, and notes were brought in to begin preparations for an attack in the claws of similar nocturnal birds of prey. No hesitation was found in the villagers, and soon a barrier was built surrounding the city.

Within a few weeks of the wall being completed, the world shook. Bells were ringing, and people were scrambling for their homes in fear. As darkness was overcoming the landscape, torchlight could be seen on the horizon, growing ever closer. Terror was in the hearts of every person within the protection of the city. Despite the silhouette of a man standing atop the wall, gazing out towards his brother's killers, doubt was beginning to flood them.

"What if he isn't strong enough?"

"What if they overpower him?"

"What if the wall falls?"

"What if he, too, is killed? Who will protect us then?"

The man, robed in a tawny cloak, stood silently. His bright blue eyes glared daggers over the landscape, and his heart was heavy. He knew what he had to do, but the cost to the forest would be great.

And it may cost him his life, as well.

He cared not about what happened to him. His only wish was to serve and protect those who put their hope in him, and to avenge his fallen comrades. With a final deep breath, the animagus pushes himself over the edge. Silence rings out, but only for a moment. A blue-eyed barn owl suddenly rises up and flies over the forest towards the would-be attackers. The woods shudder in response, and suddenly a multitude of birds of prey rise from the branches. On the ground, deer prance forward, antlers at the ready. Hundreds of smaller wildlife follow, and the roars of larger beast echo through the night.

Soon, the fighting can be heard. None could see what was truly happening, only that the fighting was growing louder, which most assumed to mean that their worst fear was coming true.

Their beloved guardian was losing.

As explosions begin to rock the foundations of the houses, screams of terror ring out in the night. The deafening noise of battle was right at their doorstep, and all they could do was hide. Hide and pray that somehow a miracle would save them all. Another explosion shakes the ground, and a gaping hole is found in the barrier.

As the battle grows louder, the city loses all hope. They know they have lost, and the terror of death was crawling into each of their hearts. Just as they begin to give into the darkness, a blinding light covers the landscape. All noise seems to be wiped away, and replace with a ringing in the ears. Villagers stumble out of their houses in shock, trying to gaze at the light. Soon, the ringing subsides, and the light begins to fade. As more and more people gather in the street, and people regain their sense of hearing, shock settles on the crowd.

All was quiet.

Too quiet.

Arriving at the hole in the wall, the villagers find nothing left to show that a battle had taken place. The ground was not charred, but fresh grass was swaying in the gentle breeze. Trees were standing tall, not charred, or fallen by battle. No blood flooded the ground, and the stench of death was completely gone. The only evidence that remained was the partially destroyed wall, and a singular tawny feather that seemed unfazed by the light breeze blowing by.

After that fateful day, the animagus never returned. Stories were passed around about the Battle of the Blue-Eyed Barn Owl. It became a legend turned fantasy, all but forgotten by the newer generations. Those few who remember believe the Blue-Eyed Barn Owl will return again, and that he is merely trapped in time. Others deem him gone, having sacrificed himself to destroy and revive the forest around him. Some just believe it an old wives tale, if that is the proper wording for it now.

However, I know what happened to him.

Because I am the Blue-Eyed Barn Owl.