Lost Tales of Ga'Hoole

spoken anymore, only written.
    Old Pan was old, but not old enough to have spoken Kratean. Nor was she a scholar who might have come across it in her studies. Besides, no one really knew what it was supposed to sound like, exactly. She kept repeating those words over and over before she waddled out of the hollow.
    So there I was, thinking Old Pan was mumbling nonsense—I wouldn’t have known Kratean from raven caws. But Clay paid close attention. He memorized what she said, and, just as you would, went to our very limited family library to try to figure it out.
    His search led him to a scroll about our family history—the history of the Hollow of Snarth. Much of it was just a record of who married whom, who fought in which battle, whose chick was born when, that sort of stuff. But he also found in it bits of Kratean, interspersed through the records. He could not figure it out by himself, his tutors wouldn’t have taught him such things. So he took the scroll to the trusty Glauxian Brothers at the retreat. He snuck away for two nights to go to the island in the Bitter Sea. I covered for him, of course. I didn’t think he’d find anything important, but thought he should get away from the old hollow, and from Da and all his demands, for a bit.
    When he returned, he flew into my hollow, puffed up his chest, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, “I best take up an ice sword and battle claws, it seems I must become a warrior.”
    “That’s what you learned, Clay?” I joked. “Isn’t that what Da has been telling you…oh, I don’t know, your entire life?”
    The look on Clay’s face told me he thought it was no joking matter.
    “I’m the big brother. I’m the Prince Who Is Promised,” he said.
    “The what who is what?” I teased.
    Clay rolled his yellow eyes and laid down a scroll.
    “Here, the ‘Prince Who Is Promised.’” He pointed to a passage that I couldn’t begin to read or understand. “According to the brothers, this says, ‘In the age of strife and tyranny, a prince shall emerge, a prince promised to us by the stars themselves. This great warrior shall be a savior of saviors.’”
    I could tell Clay was beside himself with excitement. His eyes always glowed a bright gold when he discovered something new and fascinating in one of his books or in a piece of music.
    Then, he retrieved our family scroll. “And here, right after the record of our hatching, this says, ‘The big brother shall be the Prince Who Is Promised. The prince who shall banish the fire of evil and save the light of wisdom…’ or something like that.”
    “Or something like that?” I asked. I was quite dubious of all this, you see.
    “There aren’t exact translations for some of the words. Like, here.” Clay pointed to a part of one line with his talon. “This word ‘kiista,’ it can either mean strife or illness. The brothers figured it was more likely to be strife. And this, this word could mean either wisdom or fruit.”
    “Or fruit . You’re supposed to, let’s see, save some fruit?” I was becoming more and more convinced that Clay had stumbled upon a lot of nonsense.
    “Well, clearly wisdom would the better definition here. The Glauxian Brothers were quite intrigued by this, Cleve, don’t make light of it! The Northern Prophecies have been revered for generations, and what we have here is an important document. And I, the big brother, am apparently quite important to the future of owlkind!”
    “Listen to yourself, Clay!” I said with a churr. “A few days ago, you were complaining that Da was making you do too many drills. Now you’re out to save owlkind as the Prince Who Is Promised? All because of Old Pan?”
    “Yes. I must do this. These prophecies are important. Just such a prophecy foretold the coming of Hoole. Don’t you believe in them?” he asked.
    “Maybe. But this one came from Da’s old nursemaid, Clay.”
    Honestly, I was at a bit of a loss. I didn’t know why I was arguing with him.
    “Cleve,” Clay continued, “even if you don’t believe in the prophecy, even if you don’t think I am the Prince Who Is Promised, what harm will it do if I prepare for the moment, just in case? Will you just help me to train? Like you said, isn’t that what Da and Mum would want, prophecy or no?”
    He had a point, of course. I didn’t believe in this prophecy business, but I’d be doing good to help Clay train anyway.
    “All right, big brother—Your Princeliness,” I told