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Coryn wasn’t quite sure where he was.
He had done the unthinkable. The sight of the volcano below him turning to glass, only moments before now, was still clear in his mind. When he laid eyes on the unmistakable green glow deep within the crashing waves of lava, it called to him with an overwhelming pull. He hardly even realized what he was doing when he folded his wings and dropped beneath the rim, almost as if he had lost control of his own body.
The moment his beak touched the Ember of Hoole, everything went white.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a mysterious place. Churning plumes of white smoke raged as far as the eye could see, but aside from that, there was nothing. He glanced down towards his talons, not even sure if he was standing on solid ground.
Looking around desperately, he turned his head this way and that in search of an opening in the smoky clouds, somewhere he could fly to escape this place. But the more he searched, the more he started to feel like the smoke was closing in on him, holding him in place as if it were a solid barrier.
And now, he could only wonder if this is what death was like, if touching the Ember had ended his life and sent him to a place between realms. Had he not been worthy after all? Had it condemned him, led him to his own doom?
Coryn felt a pang in his gizzard as the faces of those who helped him find himself flashed through his mind. Phillip, Gwyndor, Rabbit, Mist, Hamish, Otulissa… they all believed that he had some greater destiny, that he was more, much more than the circumstances which led him to exist. They must have been wrong about him. He must have been one of those evil owls, graymalkins, that the wolves of the watch protected the Ember from. How had no one realized? How had he been so foolish as to think otherwise? He began to wilf, shutting his eyes tightly and hoping that the smoke would whisk him away into hagsmire, or wherever he belonged.
In his panic, he failed to notice a shimmering light appearing before him, and his eyes shot open as a clear voice rang through the empty space, snapping him away from his thoughts.
“Greetings, young king.”
Before his eyes, the light began to take form into that of an owl. His plumage was dark brown, scattered with a flurry of white spots. A tuft of feathers rested above his beak and brow, and as Coryn looked on in clear amazement, it furrowed into a smile. Something felt familiar about him, but he wasn’t sure what. Then it hit him—Otulissa, and the scroom! He looked just like them, Coryn realized. A spotted owl.
“Who are you?” he asked, intently studying the now solid form of the newcomer.
“I believe you already know me.” There was a twinkle in the other owl’s eyes. “I performed the very same feat as you, after all.”
“King Hoole,” Coryn gasped, his response hardly above a whisper.
The spotted owl nodded. “That is correct. Though I would prefer you not address me as king—just ‘Hoole’ is fine.”
“...Are you a scroom too, Hoole?” Coryn asked, voice wavering. His feathers quivered over the newfound knowledge that the owl who shaped every legend he had heard stood before him.
Hoole gave a soft churr. “You could say that, but the reason I appear before you is much more. It was the visions you see in flames that guided you to this moment, yes?”
Coryn shakily nodded, and Hoole continued.
“Firesight comes from the Ember, young Coryn,” he explained. “It is the power that converges past, present and future into a single state of being, though it cannot be sustained as anything more than fleeting images.”
“...Except for right now, the moment when you first reach out and grab hold of your destiny. We speak in a place that transcends the boundaries of space and time. It is not unlike that where you speak to scrooms, but likewise, it is not quite the same. What you see here is unique to you and I alone. An experience that only owls who can bear the Ember will have.”
“Am… am I still alive? What did it do to me?” Coryn’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered as he spoke.
“Oh, yes! Rest assured, you still live. Your physical body has entered a trance, of sorts, while your consciousness temporarily resides here.”
“And that means… I will be able to return?”
“Yes, lad. You have an important mission to fulfill, and it would not serve you well to remain here. You were chosen to hold the power of the Ember, to be a king.”
“To be a king…” Coryn repeated, his voice trailing off. “But I’m not anything like you. You are noble and wise and kind, revered since the day of your hatching. I am an outcast, born from the most horrid owls in the world, and their tyranny follows me wherever I go. How could I be worthy of this?”
“You are like me, Coryn, in more ways than you might think, and that makes you beyond worthy. I have known this since the time I lived. And soon, all who meet you will know as well.”
“But how do you know? How can you be so sure that they will accept me as king?”
“By Glaux, you ask a lot of questions! Never let go of that curiosity.” Hoole looked towards him fondly, smiling again. “I know because I saw you, in the future. And soon, you will reach back into the past and see that which makes us similar.”
Coryn opened his beak, about to ask the spotted owl another question, to which he swiftly held up a wing and cut off the topic.
“But I digress. You will learn the secrets of the Ember in time, and I am only here because I must inform you of something much more dire.”
Folding his wing back at his side, Hoole’s voice took on a somber tone.
“There is a storm brewing on the horizon. With the return of the Ember, a great threat from my time is once again rising to endanger yours—one that slipped my grasp, and now returns in a way I never could have expected. I consider myself responsible, for not understanding what I had seen until it was too late. Thus, I truly wish I could help you, but this will be the only time that we are able to speak.”
He gave a sad smile, and continued on.
“However, there are yet others that will be able to guide you in my stead, help you to understand what you are up against. The first is your uncle Soren, a Guardian. He will be your gateway to the Great Tree, where you will learn to defend all that is noble.”
Coryn’s heart raced at the mention of his uncle and the Guardians.
“But the destiny that you face is steeped in legends, legends that not even Soren himself knows. With him, you must learn the truth of the past, and it is only then that you will meet your second guide.”
A moment passed before Coryn replied, as he struggled to take in all that the other owl had told him.
“I know I have to seek out my uncle… I’ve heard much about him, and all I want is to meet him. But the only legends of the past I ever heard were about you and Grank, and you’re here now. So who is the second guide? Is it Grank?” he finally asked, a twinge of excitement slipping into his voice.
“Oh Glaux, no, it’s not Grank!” Hoole’s amusement was evident as he grinned in response. “As much as I cherish him, I would never wish him on you. He’s quite a lot to handle, you see.”
The young barn owl’s look of dismay was lost on Hoole. The feathers around his beak had relaxed into a soft expression, as if he were fondly remembering something.
“There is no way that you could know the one I speak of, as her origins are much different from my own. She is… someone whose path once crossed with mine. While, like I, she no longer lives, she remains locked away, hidden, still bound to the world that I have left.”
Coryn blinked, his confusion growing by the second.
“...How will I know where to find her?”
“Much like you are connected to me, you are connected to her as well, albeit in a different way. She is part of who you are, and sleeps within you. Once you discover who she is, she will awaken to become the key that you need, and together you can end what I could not.”
Coryn was stunned into complete, overwhelmed silence as he pondered what this could possibly mean, and Hoole once again gave a churr to lighten the mood.
“Apologies, my child. I understand that this is much to learn, much to bear. The fate you have been chosen for is not an easy one, and you have inherited an age old legacy I wish you did not have to be part of.”
As he spoke, he raised a reassuring wing and gently touched the boy’s shoulder. Coryn felt a warmth course through him that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before, and all tension seemed to melt away from his body.
“This will all become clearer in time. Otulissa, who is of my own flesh and blood, will continue to assist you. It is she who will take you to the first step of your new journey, your uncle Soren.”
Coryn’s eyes widened at this revelation, before quickly realizing how much sense it made.
He certainly talks as much as her, he mused, but kept the observation to himself.
Hoole briefly closed his eyes, once again reflecting on a fond memory.
“And I do say, I am pleased that you have him. May he be both uncle and father to you, just as Grank was to me.”
Before Coryn had a chance to respond, he suddenly paused and looked away, as if peering far off into the distance. Coryn followed his gaze, yet saw nothing but the swirling plumes of white smoke. As he squinted, Hoole spoke again.
“Soren waits for you now, young one. You must go. Our time to speak draws to an abrupt end.”
As if to accentuate his words, the shimmering spirit of Hoole began to flicker and fade. Coryn felt himself being whisked from the transient space, his form melding back into the smoke from whence he came. His body called for him, longing to break from the trance Hoole had told him he was in, and he somehow knew that when he opened his eyes it would feel as if not a second had passed. And yet their time had been so short! He still had so many questions, so much he wanted to hear, so much he needed to know about the role he had been given. Hoole gave him one last knowing glance, as if seeing straight through the turmoil in his gizzard.
“You will not see me again, but I will be here. I may not be able to speak to you, or guide you, but you and I share the same legacy- and through that, I am alive. By the light of the Ember, I am with you, Coryn. Remember that.”
He hesitated. “...And do watch yourself. There is immediate trouble to follow when you return to the physical realm.”
With his final words, Hoole gave a curt nod, and before Coryn had a chance to even think the world around him went white. In an instant, his eyes snapped open, and he was met again with the blazing roar of the volcanoes and the overwhelming orange glow they cast across the ashen lands of the Beyond. As he raised himself up and out of the crater, the heat of the ember in his beak seemed to envelop his entire body, pulsating as if it were a living creature with a beating heart. Hoole’s words came back to him— I am alive. Could this be what he had meant? Was his spirit contained within the Ember itself?
Before he could ponder the possibility, his thoughts were cut short by the array of onlookers below blinking away from their stunned, transfixed silence and realizing what they had just witnessed. A chorus of hoots, shrees, howls, brays, and all manner of sounds swept through the Beyond as the animals below joyously heralded the arrival of their new king.
Yet Coryn felt anything but joyous. His gizzard wrenched as he began a downward spiral, recalling the warning Hoole had given him.
The trouble is neverending, he thought to himself. I have just performed an impossible feat, inherited an ancient legacy, and yet I must still be on guard, in fear of what awaits me.
Ember still burning in his beak, he could think of nothing but the foretold doom that was now, apparently, his destiny to prevent. Why did it have to be him? He wanted to screech, to grab the accursed thing in his talons and toss it back into the volcano where it belonged. Surely there was someone else who could bear its burden in his stead. He never asked for this, to be thrust from one hell directly into another. He never wanted a legacy, in fact, he never wanted anything but a happy, peaceful, normal life. Was that really too much to ask?
He felt himself start to go yeep, his wings locking up as the overwhelming weight of what he had learned crashed down upon him. The rocky ledges of the volcano below quickly grew closer, and as he plummeted he felt powerless to stop it, powerless to do anything at all.
All of a sudden, the glimmering spirit of Hoole, radiant as if he had descended from Glaumora itself, returned to his mind. He remembered the chime of his voice, the warmth he had felt when the tip of Hoole’s wing brushed against him, and courage began to seep back into his body.
Yes… I did not ask for this. But right now, everyone down there believes in me. Hoole himself believes in me. And he is right, I have something I must do. I must meet my uncle Soren, so that he may believe in me as well. Then I must find the key and stop this unknown threat that looms above us all. Perhaps then I can finally have what I dreamed of. This may be the only way that I can.
With a powerful wingbeat, Coryn thrust himself back upward and displayed the Ember, which, as if in response to his gesture, released a dazzling array of glowing sparks to trail behind him. He could have never noticed it himself, but above his head a crown of flames reflected in its radiance.
He was ready. He had to be. ...Right?