Guardians of Ga'Hoole 07 - The Hatchling

might include the word Tyto, but it seemed to count for nothing. With no father and a lineage considered less pure, less noble than those Tytos who ranked above him, he hadbeen given all of the worst jobs. They would not even allow him to be called by his real name, which he had forgotten although he was certain it had been something quite distinguished. The Pure Ones had renamed him Dustytuft. All Sooties had similar dirty-sounding names, such as Muddy Wings or Ash Beak. Even now there was a Lesser Sooty named Smutty being held prisoner for supposed cowardice in the face of the enemy. Theirs was not an enviable lot. And if Dusty had said “it ain’t fair” once, he had said it a thousand times.
    But all that had changed when the hatchling was born. It had seemed just short of miraculous at the time, how Dustytuft had been summoned to attend the hatching. And then ever since that momentous occasion when the earth slid between the moon and the sun, it was as if Dustytuft himself had slipped into a new, more exalted orbit within the solar system that was known as the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones. His fortunes had definitely changed. He was asked to attend to the young hatchling at every important ceremony. Indeed, he and Nyroc had become the best of friends.
    So while other young owls wilfed at Nyroc’s flawless performances in every task required to prove himself a fearless and worthy member of the Tytonic Union, Dustytuft rejoiced in his companion’s accomplishments.He himself would never be tested in this way. He would never be permitted to even dream of being a member of the most elite forces like the scouts or the Fire Talons. He would never be measured for a pair of battle claws to be made by a Rogue smith. But now it didn’t matter. He was the companion and best friend to Nyroc, future leader of the Pure Ones, heir to the most feared title in the owl kingdom—High Tyto!

CHAPTER TWO
A Reprimand
    Y ou what?” Nyra screeched.
    Uh-oh! thought Nyroc.
    “You dare question me about why that Lesser Sooty is a prisoner?”
    “I’m sorry, General Mam. I…I…thought…”
    “You didn’t think. When I say someone is a coward, he is a coward. And that is exactly what Smutty is—a coward. Not only that, he violated the code of spronk.”
    “You mean he said something about the Great Ga’Hoole Tree?”
    Nyra flinched as Nyroc said the words. “Yes,” she hissed.
    “That’s awful, Mum.”
    Ever since Nyroc remembered, talk of the Great Tree, except in the most scathing and derogatory terms, was absolutely forbidden. His mother had drummed this lesson into him so completely that whenever the word “Ga’Hoole” was mentioned Nyroc’s ear slits automatically sealed.
    This blistering reprimand occurred minutes after Nyroc completed his flawless First Flight ceremony when mother and son were alone in the stone hollow they shared in the cleft of a high cliff. It had been stupid of him to question her. He was never supposed to question his mum.
    Although he was barely two months old, Nyroc the hatchling knew that his mother’s moods were unpredictable. One minute he could be basking in the warm glow of her pride and the next minute he was scorched by her anger. Dustytuft had tried to explain it to him many times. “It’s because she loves you so much, Nyroc. And there are things about you that remind her so much of your dear dead da. It must be hard for her. She has great expectations and you know, well…sometimes she just gets a little intense.”
    “What’s intense?” Nyroc asked. Dustytuft was older than Nyroc and knew a lot more.
    “Well, it just means she gets kind of desperate. She’s proud of you. She really is.”
    Dustytuft always made Nyroc feel better. Nyroc didn’t know what he would do without him. For one thing, his life would be very lonely, for none of the other young owls who had been recruited into the Pure Ones seemed to like Nyroc. He sensed their resentment. For the most part he didn’t care. He just wanted to be the best Pure One hecould be. He wanted to be exactly like his da. Even though his da had been killed before he was born, after all the wonderful stories his mother had told him of his father’s greatness, he felt as if he knew him. His only real desire in life was to be as great a leader as Kludd. He felt it was his destiny, although he was not quite sure exactly what that strange word—destiny—meant.
    Nyroc was not only an expert flier for such a young owl but he