Dreams of Eagles

When I was six years old, my father took me and my two siblings for our first raid. My sister had just killed her first wolf and so my father decided it was time for us to start becoming real Blackwoods and head out raiding. My brother, Siegfried, was born the same year as I was and shared my sire, my sister, Brunhild, shared my dam and sire. My father only had two does in his harem, he said it was better to have the trust of two strong, intelligent does such as my mother and aunt, than many silly things that would sell you for a nice rack and the promise of greener grounds to feed on. Glenmore and Silverthorne does were for the fun, but only true Blackwood does were whom you could rely on. I think now, that he was very right about that, but at that time, my brother and I of course had silly bids, who of us would bring back home more Glenmore does and my sister would laugh at us about how neither of us would bring home one.

We were all the pride and joy of our father, two strong, large, dark bucks and a swift, intelligent daughter, the ruby in every blackwood stags personal treasury, yet he always treated us all equally, like it is custom in Blackwood, to make a name, each for oneself. My brother had never shown much talents for magic, but my father didn’t mind, what Siegfried lacked in magical talent, he showed in stamina and strengths, in all our play fights it always had been him to win. Brunhild was intelligent and very interested in herbs and magic, which my mother and aunt gladly taught her, yet she also was a stealthy fighter, known to quickly find out the weakness of those she faught and use it mercilessly against them. My mother often told me I also had great magical talents and that she would wish I would show as much interest as Brunhild did, but I was a young buck and even though I would listen and participate in her lessons, my passion was fighting and growing strong and impressive, for at this point I felt that was the most important thing to be.

Now we were out to add to that name, but my father would also not baby us. He expected much from his children and even though he was always fair to us and never pushed us to far, he still liked to test out our limits and so had us travelling all night and day, up and down the harsh mountains of the Ridgeback, to avoid bumping into the scouts of the Glenmore guard too soon, for he knew we were strong, but against a patrol of skilled guards from Glenmore would still stay no chance, even though we of course would have said different, if asked. Naturally we were not out for a real raid and we all knew that none of us would bring home a doe or win a fight against a guard, it was more of a dare, to go over the border and back again without breaking a leg from exhaustion of the climb and long journey and then come home proud and with puffed out chests telling our friends how we had already been on a raid and they hadn’t.

It was already noon, when my father finally allowed us to rest, while he scouted ahead, to make sure the route he had chosen was safe for his children and we took the opportunity to curl up together, everyone ready to take a nap, even though none of us would of course admit it. We found a nice, sheltered place beside a large rock, surrounded by tightly growing bushes and after nibbling some of the bushes and playfully bickering some, went silent. Nobody wanting to be the first to fall asleep, even though we were all already dead tired.

From where we lay, we saw up high onto a cliff, where a pair of eagles had their huge nest. One of the birds came fling, landing grazefully and feeding its hungry chicks something, after having greeted its mate.

“Flying must be awesome.” Siegfried said, while we all looked up, watching the eagles.

“I dunno, I like to keep on the ground. Fawlings aren’t meant to fly, so why bother imagining if it’d be awesome or not.” Brunhild said, matter-of-factly as always.

“You just got no imagination at all, that’s it.” Siegfried teased.

“Sure I do! I just don’t waste it like you, you silly daydreamer.” The filly huffed.

“I’m not wasting it, I’m using it1 you can’t waste imagination.” Siegfried insisted.

“Awman, you’re just so stupid! Hagen, what do you say?” she shook her head.

I had only listened to their bickering with one ear, which I now twitched with a little ‘hm’.

“Hagen! Are you even listening? Siegfried is being stupid again.” Brunhild huffed.

“Am not!” was Siegfried’s comment.

I just chuckled, having been far to mesmerized by the beautiful birds of prey far above us, to be bothered by their problems.

“Ah, that’s nothing new.” I so just yawned, I’m tired though, you can go ahead and bicker, I’ll take a nap now.” I said and lay my head down, closing my eyes and dozing off, before I even knew what they might have replied.

I closed my eyes as a fawnling and as I fell asleep I reopened them high, high on the cliff. I was sitting on my perch near the nest, where the chicks were sleeping after their meal, yet I knew, they would not sleep for long and I would need to hunt more food soon. I looked down into the abyss below me and for a moment I was scared of the fall, but then I suddenly remembered, that I had wings and did not need fearing the fall, because I was an eagle!

I spread my large wings and felt the wind immediately catch in them, I took a jump off the cliff and I soared high, high up into the sky. The wind was my partner, the sky was my home, I knew that there were no borders of mountains or rivers for me, I was free! More free than any fawnling ever would feel, who has not been an eagle! I cried out my cry of freedom and flew, flew wherever I wanted the wind to take me. I flew over the dark Blackwood and saw three young fawnlings sleeping near my cliff, I flew into the lands of Glenmore, where the meadows were lush and bountiful, I knew I could fly to to Silverthorne, if I wanted to and to Oakfern without any efford, I even could fly to far away Windborne and discover these lands I had heard of in many stories, but knew I probably never would visit, with it being so far away. Now, however, it all didn’t matter to me, because there was nothing stopping me, I could go wherever I wanted to and where my wings would carry me. I playfully soared around the solemn tops of the harsh mountains, where hardly a fawnling would ever set hoof, I even saw my father high on the mountains, looking up at me and I cried out a greeting for him, as I soared on, because I knew I had to hunt for my chicks and there was no more time for playing.

I turned back to the bottom of the mountains on the side of Glenmore, because I knew the does there were not as fierce as the ones of Blackwood and even though they would also protect their young, they were a lot less dangerous and easier prey for me. I knew my children were hungry, I knew I needed to bring big prey, if I wanted to find rest and I knew a fat and proper Glenmore fawn would be just right for my family. My eyes were sharper than they ever had been or would be, I saw mice scatter through the grass, little birds rush through the bushes, when they caught sight of me and in the far distance I saw doe and her fawn. Oh, what a big mistake she had made, coming so near to the mountain with her child, she should have known it was dangerous here, she should have known the mountains were full of hungry mouths, who just waited for a good chance to arise and she was a chance, almost too good to be true. Maybe she had fallen for a Blackwood stag and her fawn was a crossbreed, neither welcome in one nor the other herd, maybe she was ashamed of what she had done, maybe her family had shunned her, when they had found out, maybe that was why she was all by herself. I only wondered about these things for a short moment though, because I was an eagle and no fawnling, I cared little about the matters of fawnlings, for I knew I had to hunt.

I called out again and I saw another eagle appear, silently soar down to fly beside me, it was my mate, who had joined me, once hearing my call of having spotted prey. I knew I could trust him and he knew he could trust me and we both knew what we had to do. There was no need for words between us, we understood each other naturally and needed not to bother about the matters of words. It was time, my mate soared high into the sky again, we both knew the doe had heard my call and panic was starting to rise inside her, for she knew the cry of an eagle meant danger for her fawn. Our plan was clear, my mate would show himself to her, high above, a dark, foreboding shadow and she would fall for it and indeed she did. Concentrated on my mate and herding her fawn to stand behind her, she did not see me coming. I waited for her to turn her back to the fawn, then folded my wings tight to my body and I shot down, straight for the fawn, my deadly talons unfolding, my great wings breaking my mad nosedive and before the fawn could even utter a proper squeal I had its skull crushed between my claws.

The mother turned and went for me with a scream of horror, but my mate was already shooting down, clawing, screaming, pecking at her, before her sharp little hooves could reach me. He did not leave her alone, until I could grab the fawn properly and take flight again. She never stood a chance against us. She screamed after us, but we soon were only shadows in the distance, taking her child to feed ours, like it is the rule of the forest, the rule of Ùir, to give life you need to take life and to take life, you had to give it. That day I learned to understand.

We flew back to our nest, where our chicks were already waiting, screaming in joy at me, when they saw the fawn I had in my claws. We fed them the fawn one by one and ate what they could not eat ourselves. It had been a good hunt and we could rest for a bit now, when our children were full and had huddled up together in their nest, sleeping. I sat perched beside my mate, where we were cleaning each other’s feathers from the blood, before we put our heads under our wings to nap and as I fell asleep as an eagle, I woke up again as a fawnling.

I gasped and gave a little start, causing my siblings to rip out of their sleep as well.

“Hagen! You stupid or what?” Brunhild huffed, always grouchy when woken up.

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” Siegfried asked, still a bit drowsy from sleep.

I caught my breath and just smiled, looking up on the cliff, where the two eagles were sleeping side by side.

“No.” I said, “I had the best dream I ever had.”